Me too. First that my son had leukemia and we were going directly from the pedi to Children’s downtown. She was watching our older son, she came totally unglued, screaming and wailing. in retrospect I should have sent hubby by the house on the way home from work to get the oldest (he was 6 at the time) and bring him to the hospital with us. I asked him about it a year or so ago and he said he doesn’t remember her screaming and coming unglued, only that she made him go to bed immediately after the call (which was about 5pm).
Second, that the doctor’s weren’t going to continue chemo and that we had about four weeks and were going to take him home from the above hospital stay.
Third, “Mom you might want to come over this evening earlier than you were planning, the nurse says he might not last until 7:30.” She did come and quickly, but he had already stopped breathing.
and the fourth was on an unrelated matter. “Mom stop telling me this now and don’t tell me anything else or I will report it to CPS.” (On my brothers wife.)
Other than the death of my child, calling CPS to report abuse is the hardest most emotionally wrenching thing I’ve ever experienced.
It was very difficult to work up the courage to tell my parents that I’m gay. I told my mom in February and my dad in October of 1997.
It was less difficult for me to decide to tell them that I’m Wiccan, but I got more fallout over that one. They are very gay-positive but deeply religious (Christian faith is very important to my dad in particular). I was seventeen at the time and starting to pull away from them in a major way, and we had a lot more conflicts.
It was hard to finally yell at my dad when he was yelling at me, but it finally made him back down. Had to do it a few times before it stuck.
It was hard to tell them that I was going to move out.
It was very hard to tell my mom last year that I was in bad financial trouble and had already participated in a medical experiment for money. She disapproved of that so much that I’m not planning on telling her about the other three times.
Finally, I have no idea how I’m going to tell them that I’m in love with a 29 year old in England who I met over the internet.
Hands down: that I’d been diagnosed with cancer. This was only a few weeks ago. I prefaced it with “Mom, before I tell you this, I need you to promise me 2 things: that you will respect my decisions, and that you won’t give me unsolicited advice, because I’ve done my homework and I know what I’m talking about.”
She agreed, but managed to hold to it for about 90 seconds, and spent the next few weeks driving me insane.
I had surgery on Nov. 20, and am now officially cancer-free. (It was diagnosed very early, and was therefore very localized.) If you’re going to get cancer, apparently cervical cancer is the way to go.
Moral of the story: 1. Get Pap smears EVERY year! 2. Mom doesn’t need to know everything the instant you find out.
That I was breaking off my engagement. I told my mother the real reason (he had hit me) but I still haven’t told my father the truth.
Why not? Trust me, don’t tell a old fashioned Southern man who hunts (ergo many rifles) that someone hurt his princess. The ugliness potential is high.
That my (then) 21 year old sister was pregnant. I was 24, and it was the weekend after my birthday. Well, I didn’t really tell so much as point and say “NOT ME!”
She had been dating a guy off and on for 2 years, and she got pregnant in January. By March, she wanted me to go shopping with her for baby clothes. I adamantly refused to go until she told my parents (who were supporting her lazy butt at the time). She was terrified, and told me that I had to tell them, because she thought my father would kill her.
So, my mom came home from grocery shopping, and I said, “I think you need to sit down.” She gasped, and I knew it was all over. “Which one of you is pregnant?” Hence the pointing and the “NOT ME!” For the record, both parents flipped out for about an hour, then came to their senses. (After my sister had run crying to her room.)
Either that, or when I told my mom I literally hadn’t slept for 6 months because I had nightmares that my ex was in my room talking to me after he died. I thought she was going to have me committed.
Telling my parents I was gay was a cakewalk. I mean, it was pretty obvious: I had a boyfriend in high school, we were inseparable, and had frequent weekend sleepovers. :rolleyes:
Me: “I’m gay.”
Mom: “Oh, sweetheart, we know.”
Me: “Don’t you have any questions?”
Mom: “Umm, no, not really.”
That was about it.
I’ll tell you what was hard: telling my parents that I was an alcoholic, even though my father is too (sober now 8 years). This was when I first got sober. I had about three months when I told them. Man, that was hard.
It was also hard when they put two and two and two together and realized that I had gone back out and was drinking again. I really couldn’t hide it anymore. Finally, at (Canadian) Thanksgiving dinner, I just thought, “Screw it” and drank in front of them for the first time in six years.
I still haven’t told them that I’m sober again and am back in AA, but that will no doubt be as obvious as it was that I had gone out.
I don’t know if I’m going to bring up my new boyfriend, whom I met in the rooms, that he’s a few years older than me (my parents still see me as the baby of the family), that he really doesn’t do anything as he’s waiting to get his citizenship, and so on. (There’s more to the equation but I’m not going to bring it up here lest I get piled upon.)
Also hard to tell my parents that I was on antidepressants (the first time).
Then, after having gotten sober and gone off them, I had a work burnout, had to leave my job, and spent a year doing nothing, living off unemployment. I didn’t tell them that, either, or the fact that I was now on even more meds. When I got my current job a few years ago, I made it seem like I had never left my last one (I know, very immature).
Then my $20,000+ in student loan and credit card debt came to their attention. ::ahem:: They helped bail me out and get a consolidation loan, which I’m halfway through paying off. Things were tense between us for a bit, but a couple of weeks later I had to have this emergency operation and they obviously re-assessed their priorities (as did I). Our relationship has been fantastic ever since.
I’ve always been able to talk to my parents, and they hardly ever blow up about anything. I told my Mom I rolled my car and she freaked out, but not in a yelling sort of way, more of the “Are you hurt, are you in the hospital” thing (I wasn’t hurt at all).
When I thought my girlfriend (at the time) was pregnant, I shit my pants far more than my parents did. But if they were pissed off, they never showed it. She wasn’t pregnant, which was like having a two ton weight lifted off my shoulders. (I was 15 at the time.)
Otherwise, everything’s cool.
Telling mom that I was gay was really rough. I did it in anger when I was 13, in retrospect there were a million ways for both of us to handle it better.
Dad was much more nonchalant about it, but it was just as hard.
And then a few months ago they asked me if I was ever planning on living at home again.
This is one tough thread to read on a lonely Sunday night.
I had to tell my parents that I was in a mental institution…something somewhat exacerbated by their being in Pennsylvania, and me being in England. Compared to that, telling them I was getting divorced was easy, as I think they were pleased by that.
Yes they did speak to me again, and were very civil about it, in fact they were much worse a year or so later when I told them they were going to be grandparents (and my GF was a catholic girl to make it worse). They didn’t bail me out but 3 days later after the trial they did pick me up. I got off scott free which was amazing considering the charges, Public Intoxication with a Controlled Substance (or something like that), Aggravated Disturbing the Peace, Aggravated Resisting Arrest, and Fleeing the Scene of a Crime (or whatever). I am not a fundy but I was raised extremly fundy Baptist. Thats probably why I halucinated what I did.
Telling my parents that my boyfriend and I were going to live together. They didn’t like it, and I don’t remember them ever visiting us there for the next year. Once we got married, everything was OK again.
Telling them that I’d had a second seizure in a short period of time, and was being referred to a neurologist.
Telling them that my doctor was putting me on antidepressants.
I don’t know why it’s so hard to tell them about the medical stuff. I kind of feel like I’m letting them down by no longer working perfectly. I’m sure they don’t see it that way, but both times I felt like I had failed them somehow.
Ah JayLa, I understand the letdown on not being perfect. I’m getting over those feelings, but it can be difficult. I’m going to be having a discussion w/my dad about those feelings this weekend, just to let him know where I stand, and to clear the air. I have something else I need to tell them, and I believe that I have the strength to do it now…there might be a new thread to follow this, or perhaps I’ll post directly here.
