Not a day goes by that I don’t think about it. Most days it is a quick thought, something that doesn’t take root in my heart or my mind. But not always. And when I let that fear begin to take root, when I don’t leave it at God’s feet, I spiral.

It has come with us to nearly every single clinic visit and hospital stay. It has carried as few girls as one, and as many as seven. It has also held food, stuffed animals, toys, and water bottles. People know Brynna is coming before she even gets around the corner, because they hear the sound of the little stroller wheels on the tile floor. It has brought smiles to dozens and dozens of people. Brynna’s stroller.

Lighthouse

Posted 11.21.2019 in Leukemia Journey

That first summer after Brynna’s diagnosis, we did nothing. She was at such a low point, she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. We were so fearful and careful and exhausted, we had no choice but to stay isolated. We did tiny things here and there, but the majority of our summer trips were between home and clinic, filled with chemo, blood transfusions, sleepless nights, and as much “good” and “joy” as we could cram in the cracks. I remember having to stay away from social media a lot because it was so painful watching all our friends take family vacations, go to the beach, or even just have cookouts. It was painful because it was such a reminder of what we lost…such a reminder of the battle our daughter was fighting.

September is Pediatric Cancer Awareness Month, and I wanted to make sure I spent some time, over the next few Continue Reading