“If Tomorrow Never Comes…”

“If my time on Earth were through, and [they] must face this world without me; is the love I gave [them] in the past, gonna be enough to last; If tomorrow never comes”.

We are at the commencement of a global pandemic.  When the dust settles and the sun begins to rise on a new world created not by bombs and military brigades, but by microbes and mutations, there is a strong chance that I may not rise with it.  Covid-19 is respiratory virus that for the majority of people will cause mild-moderate respiratory flu-like symptoms. For the elderly and individuals with preexisting respiratory diseases, such as myself, the outcomes are far less positive. As of March 21^st, 2020, 304,217 people have contracted Covid-19 world-wide. 12,983 people have died. That is a mortality rate of 4.26%. To put it into perspective, the seasonal flu has a mortality rate of 0.1%. As we begin this new quarantine journey, the Garth Brooks lyrics above have been running through my head. And I find myself remembering this article and asking myself, “Have I loved them enough today?” 

As a person who is at high risk for a negative outcome from this novel virus, I am oddly at peace with what may come in the next few months. Don’t for a second, however, take my sense of peace for surrender. I will fight like hell against that which I cannot see. But at work we talk a lot about our sphere of influence. What it is that I can directly control? I cannot control what is happening in our world. I cannot control how my body will react when it comes into contact with Covid-19. The one thing I can control is whether or not I loved them enough today.

Did I love my boys enough today? They are five and seven years old now. For those who know our journey with both of them, you know how terrifying it has been at times. We finally got Matt medically stable after several years of uncertainty. He has faced his challenges with a bravery far greater than his years. He has developed into the most strong-willed, resilient, and infuriatingly lovable child I have ever met. He is so incredibly bright. I truly believe he will change our world one day.  He looks at the universe differently. This world needs more of that, even if it drives me crazy half the time. He knows what he wants in life and is not afraid to go out and get it – much to his kindergarten teacher’s dismay. At five and a half years old, have I loved him enough? Will the love I have given him last him the rest of his life? Does he know, deep in his soul, how much I truly love every part of him and how much his existence has made my heart whole? Did I love him enough today?

Jayden, at seven and a half years old, is the most perceptive, compassionate, thoughtful, and soulfully beautiful child I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He loves with his entire being. He, like his mother, wears his heart on his sleeve. He doesn’t understand hatred or why some people act with such cruelty. I often tell him that “kindness is his super power”. While, yes, I want my children to be as successful as they can be in school and in their lives, I want more than anything for them to grow up to be kind, considerate individuals. Jayden came out of the womb – 8.5 weeks early might I add- with this inherent quality. Yes, kindness can be taught, but more often than not, he is the one teaching me. At seven and a half years old, have I loved him enough to last him the rest of his life? Does he know, with every fiber of his being, that he is loved unconditionally by me? Does he understand that his life has given mine the meaning I never knew was missing? Did I love him enough today?

At 36 years old, I have loved my husband for half my life. He is an incredibly hardworking man who tries to protect his family from any type of harm. He is an engineer to the core. Like most engineers, he sees the world in mostly black and white. He struggles to cope with problems he cannot fix with his engineering mind, and our current situation is damn near breaking him. Like our 5 year old, he is extremely stubborn, but is also incredibly thoughtful and loves us without measure. There is no one else on earth with whom I would want to walk this path. We have created a life together that for some is only a dream. Yes, we have been through difficult times, but have faced them head on, together.  We have been to hell and back, but along the way we found our own little piece of heaven on earth. And yet I still wonder, have I loved him enough? Is the love I have given him enough to last him the rest of his life? Does he understand with every piece of his heart just how much I love him? Did I love him enough today?

All I ever wanted to be growing up was a teacher. After taking time off while the boys were very little, I returned to the classroom almost 2 years ago. As demanding as the transition from stay at home mom to full time working mom has been, I know I am where I am supposed to be. Being a mom to children with special needs has made me a better teacher. While I work daily to improve my instructional practices, I don’t have to try to care for my students. But do they know that? Did I love them enough in the short time I had them in my class that they were able to feel that love? Do they know that I have never, and I will never, give up on any of them? Do they know this doesn’t just apply to the “easy” students, but it is especially true for even the most infuriatingly difficult of students (Here’s looking at you – JFK*, Miles*, Ross*, Yoshi*, and others).  Do they know that I want nothing more than for them to be successful at whatever path they choose to take in life? Did I love them enough today?

Last weekend I became sick with influenza B, and like nearly every other time I get the flu, I developed pneumonia. As a severe, yet mostly well-controlled asthmatic, this is par for the course. As Covid-19 sweeps across my adopted state, it isn’t a matter of if I will contract it. It is a matter of when. Three years ago Jason found me unresponsive on the floor due to a massive asthma attack. It took an hour of bagging me and 2 epis to bring me back. I know the up-hill battle I will face with this new virus. And yet, at the end of the day, I am not afraid to die. I know I have my parents and a child I’ve never met on earth waiting patiently for me when my time is through. I am, however, afraid I will be forgotten in the eyes of my living children.  I am afraid I haven’t loved my boys enough for their memories with me to last the rest of their beautiful lives. Have I loved them enough today?

Have I loved you enough? Have I loved you enough for you to do your part to flatten the curve? If the curve doesn’t flatten, there will not be enough life support machines for all the people who need them at one time. There may not be a machine for me to fight my way back to my boys.  Italy didn’t flatten the curve in time. Doctors over there are currently forced to make horrifying decisions as to who gets to live and who must die. If we don’t flatten the curve here, our doctors will have to make this choice too.  Have I loved you enough for you to take social distancing seriously? Have I loved you enough today?  

*names have been changed to protect the infuriating. 

Ready or Not....

Three days from today, my oldest will turn 5. Six days later he will enter his elementary school, not as a preschooler, but as a kindergartner.  I wish this transition was nothing but happiness and excitement for what will come. For him it is, but for me, as we get closer to the start of school, my apprehension only grows.

Don't get me wrong, academically he is above par. He is reading and can do basic addition in his head. His creativity and problem solving skills are exceptional and despite an articulation disorder, his intelligence shines through. So why I am so nervous?

I am anxious because he was forced into this world 8.5 weeks before his due date. Had he been born on time, he would have missed the kindergarten cutoff in our district by 7 days. In addition, our state only requires children to be enrolled in a formal education by August 1st of the year in which they turn six. Because my son's birthday is 10 days past that, my husband and I are not in violation of our state's compulsory education laws until 10 days before he turns 7. So why is it he is starting kindergarten so early? Especially when evidence shows that delaying kindergarten results in students having better attention and less behavior issues than the younger kids in the class? Two words: "Early Intervention". As a result of his prematurity, my son has both an articulation disorder as well as sensory processing disorder. He receives speech services through part B of the Individuals with Disabilities Act. As such, his preschool tuition was covered by our state. His school would have had to petition the state for a waiver in order to give him an extra year of preschool. My husband and I met with his teacher and the school's administration in January to discuss our desire to give him another year to mature. While the school was sympathetic to our concerns, they didn't believe he needed an extra year of preschool. Yes, as his parents we could have really pushed back and forced the issue, but we chose not to at that time. A second option was to decline services and put him in a private preschool for this upcoming school year and then enroll him in kindergarten at 6. He would then have to re-qualify for services at that time. In our minds, his need for services and continuity of schools is more important.  And honestly, if kindergarten was still play based and not the new first grade, we wouldn't have as much of a concern.  

My son has such a sweet and wonderful personality. He has never, ever met a stranger, despite me trying to teach him about "tricky people". He will give a complete stranger a hug when he senses they need one. His laughter is contagious and random people at the store will stop us to comment on his laugh. 

 On top of his sensory issues, he is a very empathetic child. Just like his mom, he feels the mood of the room when he enters. He struggles with articulating his feelings and frustrations which can cause him to act out at times. I mostly worry that his young age combined with his sensory issues will cause him to be labeled a behavior problem, when in reality if it had been easier to give him an extra year of preschool while maintaining services,  those issues may not be present.
As of right now wherever we go, he makes friends. At this age, other kids see the light that shines within him.  I am terrified as he gets older that his light will be snuffed out by bullies and it will be too much for his sensitive heart to bear. 

As a mother, I am constantly questioning whether or not I am doing the right thing. Five years from now, will I be regretting this decision? 10 years? Will his young age affect him greatly in school? Or will he exceed all exceptions and conquer all challenges that lie ahead, just like he has done every day since the day he was born? Only time will tell.  But ready or not, kindergarten here he comes. 

A Leap of Faith

On Tuesday we will be taking our first family vacation out of state (that isn’t back home to Chicago). We are headed to Legoland in California. It will be the first time Matthew flies on an airplane since his peanut allergy diagnosis shortly after he turned one. He is now 2.5 and has some limited understanding of his food allergies. He knows when we tell him something has peanuts he cannot touch it. He does not yet understand that peanuts will kill him. Thankfully we are flying Southwest and I have already notified the airline of his allergy. They will not serve peanuts on our flight. We should also be allowed to pre-board and wipe our area down to limit the contamination from previous flights that day. We are taking his car seat and will strap him in for the flight to hopefully limit his contact with peanut products. I bought disposable place mats for the tray tables and will have snacks for both boys for on the plane. If only I could find disposable nitrile gloves in toddler sizes. We have absolutely no idea whether his allergy is airborne. This will be the first time he will be exposed to airborne peanut particles in a small area. I will also have two sets of his epipens and 4 Auvi-q auto injectors with us for the flight. In the event of an anaphylactic reaction, each auto injector only lasts about 15 minutes before the effects wear off. They are designed to bridge the gap between first responder and emergency room care. Due the nature of a flight, it recommended to carry enough auto injectors to last the duration of the flight. His allergist also told us to give him Benadryl prior to boarding.

I made both boys these shirts to wear at the airport and on the plane. It is my hope that they are seen as a cute way to create awareness and advocate for my 2.5 year old when he cannot yet do it himself. It is not my intention to create conflict or tension among other travelers. With that being said, as a parent I am taking a leap of faith. I will have prepared the best I can and I will do everything in my part to limit exposure in the airport and on the plane.  But there is the X factor: the things I cannot control. I am taking a leap of faith with regards to the airline personal and hope they will see my son for the crazy, lovable, inquisitive toddler he is and not as a liability.  I am taking a leap of faith in my fellow travelers. I pray that they may be blessed with compassion and understanding when they are informed they will not receive peanuts on our 2 hour flight, but an alternative snack. I hope they will look at my child and see just that: a child. A small child who has no control over the way his body reacts to peanuts as if they were poison. A child who, along with his big brother, is extremely excited to go to Legoland and see the ocean for the first time.

Like I said, I am going to control what I can and take a leap of faith with that which I can’t and pray all we encounter greet my child with tolerance and compassion.