Every family with a sick child has a saviour.

Usually the mother.

She researches the diagnosis at midnight. She coordinates the appointments. She translates the child to the father.

She holds the whole system together and she burns out quietly, while everyone calls her strong.

The saviour role looks like love and it is, but it also keeps everyone else from having to show up fully.

Dad doesn't need to learn the language.

The sibling doesn't need to ask hard questions and learn to live next to suffering.

The child doesn't need to develop their own coping.