Today we received confirmation that Ester is still allergic to soy and egg. We had her blood tested a couple weeks ago, hoping that she would be in the 80% to grow out of these things. We expected her nut allergy to stay but were hopeful to be rid of the other two. Egg and soy may not seem like difficult things to avoid, but start reading the ingredients on everything you buy and you will quickly see that these are in EVERYTHING. Especially soy.
When we found out about her allergies, she was 2. Over half of her life ago... so my hope for her growing out of these really had very little to do with how I cook or changing her diet in a big way. We have adapted and I think we are all healthier for it. When you eliminate soy, you eliminate a LOT of processed foods.
My hope for her growing out of this allergy was to help prevent exclusion. Ester will start Kindergarten next week. Up until this point, she has been in very accommodating places: church and a small daycare/preschool. All of these places have bent over backwards to make sure that Ester is not only safe (my first priority) but also included. I am grateful for that. But in one week she will start Kindergarten at a public school (gasp! I know - another blog that will come bc I'm pretty damn passionate about supporting public schools... but, I digress). And her school will have around 700 children. It is not nut-free and there is no way they can accommodate for her allergies all the time (trust me, I've already asked and tried to find ways bc I am SO that mom).
Often times at birthday parties or events, Ester has missed out on the cake and treats - but always like a champ because I always brought something that she enjoyed to have when everyone else has cake. But more and more, she wants to be like her friends. She wants to enjoy things with them. She wants to blend in and doesn't want to be different.
And when I'm really honest, I want that for her too. The older she gets, the more she recognizes her allergies and how they set her apart. How they leave her out.
Trust me, I AM AWARE that in the grand scheme of things, this is such a small struggle. Ester is so healthy compared to many children and I by no means am trying to get pity for my child or say that "we hurt more than..." or "poor little girl" or any of that nonsense. I am simply explaining OUR journey, and how I am trying to process it.
Ester knew that this blood test would tell us if she had grown out of these allergies and I think the hope of that gave her the will to go trough with it in the first place. So when I heard the results today, I debated on when and how I would tell her. I knew she would be upset so I decided to wait until the end of the day, right before bed.
When I gave her the news she just stared at me. Tears started to well up in her eyes and I could tell she was trying to fight crying. I was doing the same thing and then I thought to myself - NO! We are not ignoring this. I asked her if she was sad. She shook her head yes and started to cry. I started to cry. And then we held each other and wept.
I told her I was sad too and that it was okay to be sad. It was okay to be disappointed and that it wasn't wrong to feel that way. We cried some more. Then we talked about all the good things she CAN eat and CAN enjoy with her friends.
She didn't cry long. She wiped her own tears off her face, asked for her stuffed owl and said she was ready for bed. Let me pause for a moment and say that my daughter is a pretty remarkable little lady and often times is much stronger than I am.
We proceeded with the night per usual. Other than, I hugged her a little longer and laid in her bed a little longer than normal.
I walked out and started to think about all of this. How this is a "5 year old's" problem and how I know, Lord willing, we will have many more problems to walk through together. Harder ones.
I remember when Ester was a newborn and I was struggling to nurse her. It felt like the biggest thing to me. I was crying to my mom about it and saying how being a mother was so hard and I didn't know what to do. She agreed and said, "Yeah, hija. It is hard. But that doesn't change with time. It just gets harder." I knew she meant that. And not in a condescending way. In a way that a mother of adult children would say - with wisdom. My mom has walked with my sisters and me through some REALLY HARD SHIT. I watched her do it with love, patience, and grace. I'm in awe of it, actually. And she keeps doing it... meanwhile, I feel like I'm flailing about. (Confession: I am)
Life. Is. Hard. But it is also beautiful.
Each night I pray for my girls. That they will KNOW God and LOVE God. That they will KNOW that they are LOVED by God.
And then, each night, I pray really selfish things like: That they live long, healthy lives. That they have husbands who love the Lord. That the Lord will bless their wombs and the wombs of their offspring. That their families will live to bring glory and honor to God's kingdom... and I hope that all of these things coincide.
But if I'm being 100% transparent - my heart wants them to have EASY lives. Without pain. I know God knows this is my heart. And I'm not ashamed of it. I think it's normal for a mother to hope that her children avoid pain, avoid hardship... but I think it's naïve to think they really will... because I also pray a really hard prayer, almost in spite of my other prayers: That my daughters would recognize their need for JESUS. That God would use my children for HIS kingdom and bring them to be an active part of HIS plan... and I pray this, knowing that often times, that requires pain and hardship. (Side note: I don't know why we are surprised when it does considering all that JESUS, the friggin Son of God, had to go through!) ;)
Watching your child have a broken heart or be in pain is hard - No matter how small the reason. I will always cry alongside Ester and I know myself enough to know that I will be a bear at times... I'll want to kick and scream "It's not fair" and demand it be different. I'll be childish. I'll want to rip off the head of the first dumb teenager to break her heart. I'll want to smack the mean girls... I'm petty. I'll want to do all of that.
But I will also let her feel the weight of it, cry with her, and walk with her. I won't dismiss it, but I won't let it define her. I'll remind her of all the blessings we do have and remind her that she is loved. And that life really is beautiful and big and great and full of wonder. That life has a purpose that is incredible - and thank God for His grace that we get to be a small part of it! And that we get to do it together, for whatever amount of time God chooses.
I don't really have a good ending for this. I guess because it's not over. I don't have a profound answer. I just know that being a parent is tough and glorious all at the same time. And pain is a part of that. As much as I fight it... but I trust that it is necessary, even if and when I don't understand it.
