THE ALLERGY DIARIES: Living the Life

We just days away from our trip to Hershey Park, courtesy of GM and my heart is already aching.  Why?  Because my son, nicknamed the “walking time-bomb” — the allergist’s words, not mine — can not go.  Yes, his attendance to this magical place would go against doctor’s orders. I was stupidly, more than optimistic reading their website and my husband was completely on board with him coming with us.  We were going to be watching him like a hawk.  We rejoiced in all the dairy-free meal options provided and the extraordinary measures Hershey takes to accommodate food allergies.  Hershey’s seemed totally doable even with the severity of my son’s allergies.

That was until his last anaphylactic attack which has turned my husband into the most over protective and overbearing father I never thought I’d see him be.  I can understand and be sympathetic.  A part of me even wanted to cancel the entire trip if I couldn’t have all my children with me.  I mourned that my littlest one would have to miss out.  It just didn’t seem fair at all.  That said, J & A were so over the moon about the trip and we had also found out several of our friends were going that very same weekend.  The kids were so looking forward to running into all their friends at Hershey.  There has been skyping and phone calls between them all.  It was decided that it was an opportunity not to be missed and the only trip we’d be taking this summer and we made the decision that M would stay behind with his grandparents.  Luckily he adores them and probably won’t miss us at all.

Already tears well up in my eyes at the thought.  I have never left him for more than a few hours and while I know you must let go at some point, I marveled that I have never been apart from them for more than a few hours.  It will be at minimal 60 hours away and at most 72 hours.  Waterworks.

Waterworks because I will miss him.  Waterworks because this is the life my son must live.  Deprived of family vacation experience because it is deemed dangerous to his health.  The air he breathes threatens constantly to be his last and I cry.  I cry because even at home he’s not as safe as he is with me.