Here I am … one woman responsible for 3 lives. It sucks the very wind out of me. It is hard enough to be responsible for my life—but compound that with the lives of wee ones is overwhelming.
Then add dangers to their lives and there you have it.
A mommy in paranoia.
If you don’t know Max’s backstory, he never was easy. After 10 years of marriage, my husband and I discovered we were pregnant with our 2nd child. Our rejoicing after years of infertility turned to sorrow as we lost our baby near the end of Trimester 1. Max came 2 years after that—in our 12th year of marriage. Just hours outside of his 34th week.
After spending a couple weeks in the NICU, we brought him home only to deliver him to death through RSV turned pneumonia—blood transfusion, coma, congestive heart failure and a stint of being bagged before our eyes.
Saying we miraculously made it through this is truly saying miraculously we made it through it.
Only to discover his life-threatening allergies.
I kind-of feel as if Max has handed me enough—but he threw this on the barbecue anyway.
And now it is my every breath helicopter mommy moment of my waking day.
Keeping him safe. Alive. And yet letting him live.
This young girl’s death is but another reminder to me that paranoia and triple checking to make sure items are safe IS NOT nuts.
And that’s exactly what I want Max to have.
Here is the article of sorrow.
My heart aches for this family: https://medium.com/@Weresquirrel/progress-or-backlash-the-dilemma-of-allergy-advocacy-8046d658502a