Y'all.  I need to write about my February.  I need to write about watching my baby boy grasping for air twice in two weeks and placing him in the literal hands of medical staff and God.  Twice.  I need to talk about how that affects me and my husband differently and at different times.  And how it affects our daughter who's just six and said baby boy who's just turned five and knows what's going on.  I need to fill you in on my PTSD and how my anxiety feels more like a strong under-toe pulling me down and less like waves I can ride out.
 I need to share our experience with asthma and status asthmaticus.  I need to write about our story with life-threatening food allergies and how it doesn't always end with a shot of epinephrine and fours hours in the ER but it also doesn't always end in death.  I need to tell you about his guardian angel Oakley Debbs who was there with us in the parking lot of Wegman's as I grabbed the epi-pen and again in a hospital room at St. Mary's when my son's body was failing and I told the nursing staff that one epi-pen may not have been enough and his body could still shut down completely and they listened and agreed and quickly transferred him down to ICU.


 I want to tell you about my friends who prayed for us.  They prayed so hard.  And I want to tell you about the ones who showed up with coffee and little gifts and treats for our son and with wine and an amazing dinner for me and my husband.  I can't even begin to explain how good non-hospital coffee tastes.  It taught me how important it is to be the person who just shows up.


And I want to talk about shoes and clothes and spring break plans and recipes I've pinned that I'll probably never make. because I've realized that's my measure of me.  It's not deep and it's not life-changing and there are a million better uses of my time and brain power but it's how I know that I'm getting myself back.  Man, I want myself back.  I want to go online today and waste an hour looking at swimsuits and dresses on Nordstrom and coffee tables on Wayfair and art prints on Minted.  I love that shit.  I want so badly to care about that again.

Our boy is being seen at the Asthma, Allergy, and Immunology Clinic at Boston Children's Hospital in a few weeks.  It's terrifying to know that we might open up pandora's box but it also scares me to know that they'll probably have no more answers than our doctors here in Richmond have for us.  I know in a few days I'll care more about planning cute outfits to pack for our upcoming trip to Boston and less about why we need to fly there in the first place.  I'll focus on my travel day outfit and less on the actual first flight I'll take alone with my allergy kid.  I'll download movies to the ipad and action plans for my wallet.  Then I'll order us both a new outfit so we'll be the best dressed pair on the flight.  That's how I cope :)