Twisted Sense

February 10, 2012 10:47pm

Dear Miss Lauren,

4 years ago my life and yours were about to change dramatically. You were incredibly, incredibly sick, and I thought it was just the flu. You were so pale and lethargic with a cough and cold that seemed to have lasted forever. You had just turned 3, and your wonderful spirit shone through all the yuck and ick, and my beautiful girl was such a bright spot in my life.

Let's go back a bit to June 1, 2004. That was the day I knew for sure you were on your way. I'd known even before that, though, but this was the day I finally felt confident enough to believe it!! I was thrilled yet scared. I was excited yet terrified. I was always, always happy. I felt such a connection to you immediately, and I was thrilled you were going to be a part of my life.

Before February 12, 2008, we never worried much about your health. You were healthy and developed quickly. You were speaking very clearly by 2, and physically right on track. Though very shy and terribly difficult to get to bed, you were engaging and fun. Everyone was so lucky to know you. That night changed nothing of our feelings for you, nor for our commitment to keep you healthy. It's consumed our lives for a long time with the medicines timed just-so, and the frequent clinic visits... The spinal taps and going bald in the middle of the summer (08). Through it all, you've been cheerful and sweet, and such a thoughtful, caring, wonderful human being.

As your mom, I think a lot about the time leading up to your diagnosis of leukemia. I look back at the pictures from a month or two before, and I hate myself for not seeing what was so plainly there. I just thought it was the flu (which you were also sick with, concurrently alongside leukemia), and nearly everybody in our lives were concerned, but didn't see reason to think anything more was going on. You don't remember much of your time in the clinic and hospital now, so I don't suspect you remember how terrible you felt in those days, weeks, months preceding the diagnosis, but I'm sorry. I am sorry I didn't know. I am sorry i snapped at you that you weren't being friendly to people. God, your little body was wrecked with cancer, and I was mad you weren't friendly enough. It's an ugly monster, that guilt. She would eat me alive if I let it go on too long. I'm not sure there's anything I will be able to do to overcome the regret of not being more aware.

But here we are, looking at the nose of the diagnosaversary, and you're in first grade in the advanced spelling group and the highest reading level group in your class! You are artistic and creative - more so than I have ever been all throughout my life. You are ridiculously intuitive and aware of your effect on other people. As a result of that, you are very sensitive to others' feelings and sometimes take things personally when they're not intended to be. You care an awful lot what I think, and you really really like to sleep close to me. However, you are a crazy turn-sideways kick you in the head type of sleeper, so we sleep close, but not in the same bed.

I love you, and I admire who you are. I am lucky to know you and have you love me.

Mommy