Fear grips me at the most untimely of times. Like sitting at a funeral, when I find myself considering the idea that I could be planning one for my daughter instead of she planning one for me...the way it should be. Like when Abby is kicking a soccer ball around with the other toddlers while the big kids have soccer practice, and I gasp as she gets knocked down. Just how strong are those ribs now? Like waking at the sound of every single cough on the monitor, wondering if it is going to turn into something more. Like seeing her gag on some food, praying that she doesn't aspirate on it. What is "going down the wrong pipe" for most kids is a constant threat of pneumonia for mine. Like being asked what Abby's prognosis is, and having to say that I really don't know. Then having to explain that her syndrome is so rare that there really isn't a prognosis. She is pretty much making her own path here. Like singing "You Are My Sunshine" ...
Choosing joy and trusting God!