Whew. We just got back from our holiday visits and I don’t know about you, but I could use a rest. Actually, I must admit that I am feeling especially drained this year. I don’t know if I have mentioned it here before, but both of my children have food allergies. Henry, 4, is allergic to egg, peanut, and multiple tree nuts. Hannah, 2, is allergic to cows milk. Any parent of a food allergic child will tell you that holidays can be a little extra hard. Most of the time, I feel like I am pretty positive about the whole situation. I try to stay upbeat and not get down about it. After all, I am incredibly fortunate that my children are, otherwise, incredibly healthy.
And so tomorrow? Tomorrow I’ll rally and be brave and positive and keep fighting. But tonight? Tonight, I just wanna cry a little. I need to take just a minute and acknowledge that in an incredibly food centered society that this is really hard. Having nobody really get how serious it is, is hard. And sometimes it hurts a little. Sometimes I am so incredibly tired of thinking about it all the time. I am tired of never being ever to relax at any get together, because I am constantly watching to make sure my children don’t reach for or are not given food that could harm them.
Tonight I am mad and frustrated. Tonight I don’t understand why this happened to us. I wonder (again) what I did wrong that caused my children to have to deal with this. I know. People will say that it isn’t my fault. That I didn’t do anything wrong. And they may be right. But in a weird way, I almost wish it were my fault. Because at least then I would know the reason and perhaps I could deal with it and move on. But the not knowing eats me up inside. And the not being able to fix it is almost more than I can bear. I won’t stop trying. Nope. Not gonna stop trying to find the answer no matter what anyone says. I’m going to keep going and keep learning and keep fighting for my kids. I will keep fighting for my kids.
I know there are other mother’s out there who are fighting much worse than this. I refuse to act like a victim and I know that my children will absorb my own attitude about it and I do not want them to ever feel sorry for themselves over this. That’s not who I am. That’s not who I want my children to grow up to be.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll rally. Tonight? I just wanna cry.