When Hannah was four, I came home from teaching a night class at Jackson State Community College to see my limp daughter in Robert’s arms. We took her to the emergency room, and she spent four days in the hospital. She was given almost non stop breathing treatments. When I was able to go home to gather some clothes and necessary items, I crumbled in the elevator into a sobbing mess. She was diagnosed with allergy
induced asthma. This was the beginning of her lifelong battle of fighting allergies and other issues,
constantly having the inhaler ready. Mama tried not to panic every time I saw that chest start heaving, gradually getting heavier and heavier until we could get the meds in her.
As she has gotten older, I had to let her handle it as many times I watched her on a soccer field begin to breathe heavy, knowing what this was but trying to stay calm.
“Let me suffer, not my child, God,” I have said many times, but this is not God’s choice. My oldest daughter Rachel has been spared health issues, as of today, but I still
remember her running around a hospital room in the tiniest hospital gown I have ever seen, waiting to have a minor surgery. Nothing prepares a mama for surgery on her child, major or minor.
As I saw my friend Glenna Marshal’s post, I knew this might touch mamas’ hearts this morning. She is such an excellent writer.
Here is her article, and you should follow her blog. Also, check out her music.
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