It’s a myth that the grass would be greener without hemophilia

My family gathered to take pictures. We drove to the Bosque, the cottonwood forest that borders the Rio Grande and runs through New Mexico. It’s a beautiful place with running water and trees. The photographer took numerous action shots, one of which brought a reality check.

The photographer had us sit by the water. I crouched down, and my youngest son, Caeleb, sat on a rock. Sitting on a rock doesn’t sound like a task that requires significant effort, but Caeleb had to get on the ground to reach the rock.

I saw him struggle to get into position. He immediately said, “Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” His determination in the face of difficulty was inspiring. After the pictures, his struggle to get up was even more significant. Later that day, he told me that sitting at the water’s edge “did a number on my leg.”

Recommended Reading

May 16, 2025 News by Margarida Maia, PhD

More preventive treatment options needed, researchers say

Both of my sons have severe hemophilia, a genetic disorder that impairs the body’s ability to control blood clotting. Caeleb is 19 years old and has endured more than his fair share of complications. His right knee and ankle are severely damaged from repeated bleeding into the joints. This damage causes chronic pain.

Would I prefer that Caeleb didn’t have hemophilia? Most would think yes, but I pause before answering. Hemophilia has undoubtedly brought pain and heartache, altering my family’s lives. I’ve faced fear in a way I never dreamed. Yet this bleeding disorder has also brought unexpected gifts. We have a community of dedicated, compassionate people we call family. They understand our journey. And as for perseverance and empathy, Caeleb gained these traits in a way most adults never will. Our family can fight through difficulties and find joy and strength.

These experiences have not only shaped how we live day to day, but they’ve also challenged and deepened my faith. I do my best to live a life that pleases God, but I’m not always successful. I often forget a particular commandment: “Thou shalt not covet.”

This call to live a faithful life means that I shouldn’t envy the lives of others. Many think this direction means we shouldn’t be envious, wanting a bigger house like our friends have, or having nice clothes and cars like the neighbors. In the context of my sons’ health, does it also mean I shouldn’t want my sons to be healthy like the young men next door?

I’ve experienced grace in ways too personal and profound to doubt that God walks with me. And still, I compare. And still, I covet.

Is the grass really greener?

This process of comparing reminds me of the saying “the grass is always greener on the other side.” I’ve often thought about what life would be like if my sons didn’t have hemophilia. I see others whose lives seem smoother, whose families don’t live in and out of hospitals, whose children leap and run without pain. I remember the missed vacations and outings brought on by sudden bleeds. It’d be amazing if my sons never had bleeds that led to joint damage, surgeries, ports, or weeks in the hospital to control pain. Their health would be better, and Caeleb’s limitations would be nonexistent.

I see people with simpler stories, fewer complications, and fewer scars. And somewhere deep inside, the whisper comes: “Why not my sons?”

But I realize that all yards have weeds. Some people fertilize their grass with quiet resilience. This strength isn’t always visible, but it sustains them through their struggles. Others have been through a drought you never saw. And some are standing in their own version of struggle, wishing they had your shade of green.

Comparison steals more than joy; it distorts reality. It makes us believe we’re alone in our suffering when, in truth, pain is a universal thread. We each carry invisible burdens, and no one gets through life unscathed.

I look at my patch of grass differently. It might be faded or scorched in spots, but it’s mine. It’s known healing rains, survived storms, bloomed with surprising beauty, and taught me how to nurture what I’ve been given. Health struggles may shape my landscape, but they don’t define its worth.

So the next time the grass looks greener on the other side, remember that every lawn needs care. And your grass? It may grow in ways you never imagined, but it’s worthy of tending. Your personal growth and resilience in the face of challenges truly define the value of your “lawn.”

Note: Hemophilia News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or another qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Hemophilia News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to hemophilia.