A Different Kind Of Grateful

Ben had an appointment with his Allergy specialist last week to get an immunization. Because this particular one can have egg in it it must be done in the hospital in the specialist unit. I am, shall we say, a little nervous to the days leading up (by this of course I mean heart palpitations and cold sweats...). My nerves kick in the moment we pull into view of the monstrous building. This is a facility we are so blessed to have available to us and is one of the largest children hospitals in the province. I try to remember that as I loath being there. As we walked into the building this time my senses were peaked, perhaps out of nerves, pregancy hormones or simple intuition. I could sense the suffering in the walls. Heartbreak, anguish and despair radiated from the thick brightly painted brick. Miniature cots, stretchers and IV pols lining the halls serving as tragic reminders of why this building is here. Tragic in the worst of ways. We walked past an empty courtyard with toys scattered about. I willed my eyes not to well as I considered the two options; there were no children to play or they were two sick to do so. I wished badly on the first but feared the latter. My own busy boy, an example of robust health squealed at the miniature ride ons. "TOYS TOYS!" I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude then. We would be leaving with our precious child in a few short hours. Many Parents within heartache sensing distance would not be. They would be leaving their babies on one of those little beds and forced to walk past the empty courtyard with empty arms. I can't imagine anything worse, even if I let my mind travel in the dark rooms of fear, of watching your child suffer. That degree of helplessness and sadness is made for one stronger then I.

As we entered the Allergy wing I breathed deeply. Even as we left with a diagnosis of two newly developed allergies (dairy and dogs) and an explanation that he could continue to grow into more I felt....grateful. So profoundly grateful that this is our challenge. I would not trade it as I know what alternatives are available.

I had previously felt as though we had been sentences to this life with allergies. It dictates when, where and what we can do. Ben cannot touch a dog now or eat an ice cream cone...but he can run and play and laugh and thank God, we get to bring him home.