Fall 2013: We all display our sadness and disappointment differently. For Nathan, he was able to weep and show sadness at the appropriate times. It broke my heart to witness him but in some ways, I was jealous because physically I couldn’t cry anymore. The anti-depressant I was on somehow wouldn’t let me. I know that the medication was necessary for me to function. I had responsibilities as a mother, wife, employee and I needed to remain strong. But there were days I wished I could just cry it all out! That fall, our family was quickly thrown into a new normal after the diagnosis of both Anders and Carson.
Our fridge and counters became filled with medications. Expensive medical equipment was overnighted to our home and a respiratory therapist came to train us in on daily treatments. We took measures to have a hypoallergenic home as suggested by a doctor. New foods were added to the boys’ diet and an attempt to be germ free and anti-bacterial was made. When the full brunt of the diagnosis hit Carson, it sent him into a depression and weekly counseling sessions were added to our routine. I’ll never forget Carson’s response after he had just been trained in on how to use his new Vest airway clearance system. This was a machine that compressed his lungs vigorously for 30 minutes every morning and every night. It was noisy, uncomfortable, and time consuming. He didn’t like it one bit, and frankly, neither did I.
Carson asked me, “Mom, do I have to do this for the rest of my life?” His hurt-filled face cut my heart in two. Because I knew the answer was yes. But I didn’t have the strength to tell him so. Thankfully, my very wise husband who was listening interrupted with the very best answer. “Carson, we don’t know. It’s possible that someday a new medication might be discovered and you won’t have to do the vest therapy. But until that day, you need to do what your doctors tell you and stay as healthy as possible.” Carson listened and even nodded with understanding.
As time went on, the stress made it's presence known and my hair began to fall out in clumps. I took to sleeping with my childhood blanket in hopes of finding some sort of tangible comfort at night. It was hard to get out of bed sometimes in the morning as depression wasn’t far away, like a low hanging cloud.
But through it all, God never left us. And in the pain I truly felt Him close by. The realization that God knew exactly what I was experiencing brought me comfort. He understood! After all, His son suffered and died as a young man. And over and over again in scripture we are shown how God can take awful, horrible, tragic situations and use them for good. All of these things gave me hope. And I prayed. But not as you might think. Honestly, I did not and have not prayed for my sons to be healed. But instead, I have asked God to give us the strength to get through this so that we might be a witness and bring glory back to Him. And He has been faithful in answering those prayers!