Saturday, March 16, 2013

Continued Fear and Unparalleled Love

*I apologize in advance for some missing photos - I used Photobucket for free as a means to store my photos and they are now holding a few hundred pics of mine for hostage unless I pay for an expensive plan and I also managed to lose half my photos from my computer*

Ever since Ellie's ENT appointment last week, I keep going back to an old post of mine--Overwhelming Fear Over a Little Girl in a Pink Dress.  In the past 3 months, both of Ellie's ear tubes have fallen out and the right ear is already full of mucoid fluid.  Her hearing is affected.  She has suffered from chronic adenoiditis since January and they are obstructing her airway.  As are her tonsils. This means that next month, my little Ellie Bear will under go the trifecta of ENT surgeries--Tonsil removal, adenoid removal, and the insertion of ear tubes (her 4th set of tubes).

Oh you mean, these tonsils????
This photo was taken 1.5 years ago.  Those little bad boys have nearly doubled in size.  

I know that a T & A and ear tubes are minor surgeries, but they are still surgeries and this is my daughter!  Those old feelings of fear creep into my mind.  Paralyzing me.  I just want to hold my little girl close and protect her.

Overwhelming Fear Over a Little Girl in a Pink Dress
*a re-worked post from June 2012 with some new photos*

The Little Girl in the Pink Dress. . . Ellie Bear. . . My Love, My Life

My daughter is so beautiful that it hurts.  She is so amazing, so precious, and just down right sassy that my heart is over flowing with love for her.  How is it possible that she is my daughter?  She is a gift.  A priceless gift.  And I fear that I will lose her.  That she will be taken from me all to soon.

Is this something that all mothers feel?  Is this why mama bears are so ferociously protective of their cubs that they will kill a human or another animal that trespasses too close to their family den?

When Ellie was a little over 6 months old, when she went into anaphylaxis due to eating a small amount of infant oat cereal.  A surprisingly rare allergy.  I drove so fast to the nearest hospital and by the time I arrived, her little lip was swollen and she was gasping.  A high pitched squeak was released with each breathe.  I fear for her life.  I later on felt a chest crushing fear every time a little child walked by with a Cheerio.  A cheerio could kill her.  Those infant puffs could kill her.  Thankfully, she has outgrown this allergy.

When I watch my precocious little adventurer climb that 2-story playscape, I have moments of mommy panic.  What if she falls and breaks her neck?  Yet, I know I need to let Ellie develop her independence, test her boundaries, and practice her gross motor skills.

Every time I am in the car and I look back to see an empty car seat, I have a brief moment of fear. Oh right, the car seat is empty because I have a babysitter or she is home with Andrew.

Then there are those scarier times when Ellie has her routine blood draw.  Her complete blood count [CBC] is routinely measured to look for signs of leukemia.  A cancer that could ravish her body and could take her from this world, from me and Andrew.  A cancer, that while rare, is more common in children with Down syndrome.  Oh how my stomach drops and my heart freezes as I hear the nurse on the other line calling with the results.  Oh how my huge sigh of relief could be heard across Texas when I hear that "everything is normal".

Then in June, when I rushed Ellie to the ER at the recommendation of her pediatrician to rule out meningitis.  Again, adrenaline seized me and fortunately it all turned out okay.

Or just this past Valentine's Day, when my little spider monkey decided to sky-dive off the side of a chair, bonked her head, cried, stopped breathing, and then seized.  It was Ellie's (and my) first ambulance ride.  I stared in horror as I witness my baby continue to have absence seizures the entire way to the hospital.  Yet, again, her guardian angel worked over time for her.

Facebook and the internet are dangerous places.  Facebook and internet forums can be excellent avenues for support and yet, they are also where I learned about another little girl Ellie's age diagnosed with leukemia.  They are where I learned that a little cousin was in a horrendous car accident required multiple surgeries to realign her shattered bones.  It is where I saw my friend's little boy miraculously survive Steven-Johnson's Syndrome after having a rare reaction to an antibiotic.

I have seen too much.  It is my own fault for opting to work early on in my career as a pediatric intensive care unit nurse.  Many of the accidents and illnesses that I have encountered during my years as a nurse were rare incidents. They were unlikely and yet, they serve to remind me just how fragile life is.

This is my absolute most favorite photo of me and The Bear.  

I never knew it was possible to love someone so much, with every ounce of my being until I became pregnant. In those first few moments when I saw Ellie before the nurses whisked her away, I knew that life would never be the same.  Yes, I have a fear of losing my little girl and yet, it has made me forever grateful for each moment that I spend with her.  Tell me, am I the only one who has this fear?  Hold you little ones close and whisper those sweet words of I love you.


Yes, The Chunky Chicken does own quite a few pink dresses.


  1. every time Stella gets sick I worry just that little bit more that she will not get better and that it will get worse and that it's infact not a cold but cancer and that will loose her. I have read too much too. Even with Olivia and Sophie I have moments of worry, but with Stella that worry and fear is just a little more intense. And then I think of all those beautiful little children in those institutions left all alone with no one to comfort them and love them, and I hold Stella just a little tighter and thank God for blessing her to us.

    1. Good to know I am not the only one! When I hear hoof beats, I always hear those zebras (ie cancer) instead of horse beats (the more likely cold or virus). I guess this worrying comes with being a parent in general.

  2. I loved the post and yes, it is a surgery on your matter how major or minor the surgery is. The internet can be such a dangerous place. We will be praying for the ever-climbing, extremely independent chunky chicken when she has her procedures! I laughed when you commented that she had a lot of pink dresses, because I was just thinking that :-)

    1. Yeah, a lot of pink in this household. Not my fault! My MIL buys all of these pink things and then Ellie chooses them to wear!

  3. You are not the only momma who has these fears. I feel like I could have written the exact words you wrote here. But, even speaking the words of my fears out loud scares me. If that makes sense. I understand this love you are speaking of. It's crazy how much we love our children. Crazy and so incredibly overwhelming. My goodness.

    1. Thank you! It is good to know that I am not alone.

  4. Beautiful post. Knowledge can be a double edged sword. We know what could happen but at the same time we are grateful when it doesn't. Beautiful pictures of a beautiful girl.

  5. We are walking the same path along that cliff. On the one hand, divine views but on the other, it seems so much easier to fall. A friend of mine just called this catastrophizing. True, but also makes me laugh.


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