During a family trip to Disney World, I was diagnosed with sepsis

• Two days after a family outing, I developed a fever of 103 and wasn’t feeling great.
• At the hospital, I was diagnosed with sepsis and felt guilty for ruining my family’s trip.
• I learned that I have no control over what happens and that I need to let go of my mother’s guilt.

Two days into a Disney World vacation with my husband Anthony, our two daughters, and my in-laws, I became very ill. With a fever of 103, I was shaking with chills, aching all over and becoming dry repeatedly.

We were excited about this trip. Every day before we left, I drew a Disney-themed picture on my 8-year-old daughter’s snack bag. I counted the days, with the number eight hidden in Cinderella’s castle, Mickey’s four-fingered glove, and a glittering two next to Tinkerbell.

And then I sat in the room feeling guilty while my family explored Magic Kingdom. I am no stranger to illness. I was born with heart disease and recovered from four open-heart surgeries, but I rolled around in the bed groaning in pain. I cried to Anthony on the phone, delirious from the fever, the lorazepam I’d taken, or both.

I didn’t think anything serious was going on, but I called my cardiology nurse after a few days. She said I probably had a virus, but because my mechanical valve and pacemaker are breeding grounds for bacteria, we have to rule out a blood infection. She sent me to the emergency room for blood cultures.

Things were worse than I thought

“She’s septic,” the triage nurse said.

Maybe I couldn’t register her words because of the pain; maybe Anthony gave me a blanket at that point, because once I got into an exam room, neither of us understood why the doctors seemed so serious. This was a virus; I was only here as a precaution.

But my pressure was 70/40, my white blood cell count was elevated and I had an infection somewhere. The culture results would take days, but they treated my symptoms and started antibiotics. Once I could think clearly, the guilt returned.

This was not how I imagined this holiday. I was supposed to see my daughters spinning around in oversized teacups, not the room spinning around me. Instead of putting on a hospital gown, I should have helped my 8 year old put on her princess dress. I wanted to push my four-year-old in her stroller, not be pushed around the hospital on a stretcher.

The culture came back positive. I was moved to an inpatient floor and the guilt persisted. I was in the hospital for about a week, but it felt like forever. I cried often – when my children flew home without me, before each medical test, I was terrified that the results would keep me away from them longer, and each time my in-laws would send me a photo of their faces.

If I had been paying attention, I would have noticed those smiling faces. While I wallowed in guilt, they were having the time of their lives.

We went through it together

I was left guilty when I returned home and had to take antibiotics for four months, which destroyed my stomach and left me on the couch for half of that time. I was fortunate to have my husband home temporarily, my mother, who moved in with me while I recovered, and a host of family and friends willing to help. I struggled with barely being able to care for my girls, but we found a way. We cuddled while watching TV and playing games. They decorated my IV pole for my birthday.

In the end, I didn’t have to feel so guilty. My children are fine. It wasn’t easy. My oldest daughter later admitted that she cried herself to sleep while I was in the hospital. My youngest at that time cried so much before kindergarten that we took her out. It was hard, but so is life. They got through it and discovered that they had parents who loved them and an entire village willing to care for them when their mother couldn’t.

I’ve learned that this ever-pressing guilt that we mothers carry is pointless. I have no control over what happens to me. It is inevitable that I will have more medical problems in the future. Maybe my kids are better prepared for that. At least now I know we can get through it together. And not only do I know that I love them, sometimes painfully so, but that they love me too, even when things are hard and even when I sometimes ruin their good time.