Searching for a Preschool, Nut Allergy in Tow--the prelude

Daddy: "Kadyn, you must have your mommy's genes."
Kadyn: "No, mommy has her own jeans, they wouldn't fit me. Mine are just right."

Of course, we knew the humor behind the dialog. However, it wasn't until after the conversation that I really stopped to think about what he said. Our eldest, Kadyn, in a way, was right...my genes won't fit him...his are just right. He is his own person, unique and wonderfully made. He may have our "genes" but he also has his own genes that fit perfectly.

According to the pediatrician, Kadyn, is the most severely allergic kid in the clinic right now...and it's a big clinic. Research is proving that allergies seem to be linked to your genes. Although his genes seem a bit too big for him, (anaphylaxis seems so severe for such a little boy), I have to remind myself that God created him. God's eyes saw Kadyn's unformed body. And all the days ordained for him were written in His book before one of them came to be (Psalm 139:16). To God, Kadyn's genes have the perfect fit...nothing too big, nothing too small.

Now that Kadyn is 3 I would love to enroll him in a preschool (this was written several months ago and posted on my personal family blog). However, something is holding me back from sending him. Only in the past few days have I realized that it's because I'm scared to hand his life over to someone else...someone that I don't know, and don't trust. Questions flood my mind..."will he eat something he isn't supposed to have?" "Will the staff forget to read the labels on snack foods?" "Will the staff know how to properly administer an epipen?" "Will they know when to and not to give the epipen?" "Will another allergy present itself unknowingly?" (A few weeks ago he had another allergy scare...with walnuts...a nut we thought was on the "safe" list. He complained of his throat feeling funny, then threw up 3 times, then his face got puffy and his nose got so stuffy I couldn't even understand what he was trying to tell me when he spoke...scary.) It's frustrating as a parent knowing that these "genes" most probably came from me/us. However, as his jeans continue to get bigger, and he, older, I realize I need to keep things in perspective. God created him, God will protect him, God has a plan for him. That doesn't mean that I won't be prayerful the entire time, that doesn't mean that I won't ask 100 thousand questions of each preschool I interview to make sure I'm sending him to a safe one, but it does mean that it's time to let go. God is in control.

Kadyn, you are right, your genes are perfect little man. I thank God that he chose YOU for us and I can't wait to further watch as your "jeans" continue to grow.

Trying on a pair of mommy's jeans

Transparent Mommies--it can be hard to relinquish control to someone else, can't it? After all, our kids are our most cherished possessions. Whether your fear for your kids is allergies, shyness, a handicap, inability to hear, to see, or something else entirely, and whether your preschool is actually preschool, or daycare, or grade school, a new babysitter, high school...or college, it's important to acknowledge that your fear is real. It's your truth. It can be scary that first go around. It can be scary to even admit out loud. But go ahead...we're all about being transparent! What is your truth?


© Transparencies of Motherhood 2010

Transparent Moment--Am I cut out for this?

Parenting is hard. Parenting is scary. Oftentimes you only read about the happy, joyous moments on a blog. Or you only see pictures of smiley kids. Don't get my wrong, the happy, joyous, smiley times far outweigh the hard times--if they didn't, I can't imagine so many people going through parenthood...and I certainly wouldn't be entertaining the thought of a 3rd baby. But in all honesty, it's days like today where I wonder if I'm cut out to be a parent. I mean really, truly.

There aren't instructions that can truly prepare you for birth, postpartum depression, food allergies, hospital visits. In fact, there really aren't instructions for any part of parenting. Sure, you can read all kinds of books with advice, tips, etc, but the fact of the matter is, every child is different. Every parent is different too. So, what works for one, may not work for another. I remember with my first son I read EVERY SINGLE book on sleep trying to get him to sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time. I never thought I would sleep again.

But for me, that pales in comparison to today. Today my son couldn't breathe. Literally. Spiders? Sure. Snakes? Absolutely. Other creepy, slithery things? BRING. IT. ON. Cockroaches? Okay, maybe I'm pushing my luck with that one, but you get the idea. We each have areas in parenting that really challenge us; that make us stop and wonder if we're really cut out for this. Chart topper for me? My son's inability to breathe.

Almost 2 years ago (the day I brought my youngest son home from the hospital!) we found out my eldest son is HIGHLY allergic to cashews, pistachios, and walnuts. He had an anaphylactic reaction to a bite, yes a BITE, of ONE cashew and ended up in the urgent care with an O2 level of 64 percent. Anyone knowing O2 levels knows that below a 90 percent is cause for considerable concern. We now carry an epi-pen everywhere we go. We have one in the car. We have one in the house. We have one in the diaper bag. We have one at each of the grandparent's houses. We have one at preschool. If I could, I would make sure the whole world had one just to protect this little guy...

One of the lovely side effects of the anaphylaxis is asthma. This is a new development for us. Now, every time he gets a cough and a stuffy nose it turns in to a big ordeal. It shuts his system down. We've gone in twice now for emergency oxygen after the inhaler has failed to provide relief. Today was one of those days. I laid awake all night listening to his labored breathing, thick, mucous filled cough, and sniffles. My husband and I took turns taking him in to the bathroom to try to get relief via a steamy shower. (Quite a picture I wish I had; my husband holding my son, both fully clothed in jammies, standing on the edge of the shower, bodies placed directly above the water to try to get as close to the steam as possible.) As I lay there I wanted to cry out...Where's my instruction manual damn it?! Nothing can prepare you. No book can describe the emotion. No book can make you feel the fear. No book can make your every fiber of being react in a split second. A book might describe it to you, but nothing can truly prepare you. The world stops, yet it spins faster and faster.

What was the scariest part of today was that if/when he has another anaphylactic reaction, it will be oh so much worse. To hold my son's life in an epipen is scary. To have everyone involved in his life know how to use one is expected.  To hope everyone around me knows how to use one too? Unrealistic. Questions are always flooding my mind, wondering if I'm doing this parenting thing correctly. Fear is sometimes all consuming, hoping this doesn't attack him again, but knowing it will. It really isn't a question of if, rather, when.

What keeps me going? Knowing that God won't put more on my plate than He knows I can swallow. I just sometimes wish that plate wasn't so big...or that my bites might be a bit smaller.


Transparent moment for other mommies: What do you struggle with? What have you found that works? How can we support each other?


© Transparencies of Motherhood