And then there were three…

On October 3, our first born turned 31.  Again I debated back and forth about posting things about my grown children.  You know the ones that still live at home are kinda at my mercy 😉 But I am going to take my chances again.  If he doesn’t like it…well…I hate that for him!  Zach if you read this, and I know you do stop by every now and then, I love you.  Thanks for living though what was a huge learning experience for all  of us.  I look back at pictures of when he was first born and I am asking myself “Who let those children bring a baby home from the hospital?”  Husband and I were both 19 when he was born.  Me for only 2 months. It makes me shudder a little to think about how we just jumped in with both feet like we had a clue.

The first born is always pretty much a science experiment and this one was no exception.  When Zach was 8 months old he was diagnosed with asthma.  We had already had some pretty harrowing experiences but the fun was just beginning.  From that moment own I didn’t really sleep.  I listened for him to breathe and by the time he was three epinephrine was part of our daily routine. Yep, I was 21 and thought nothing of sticking a needle in my child’s arm on a daily basis.  His asthma was so severe that he was on a theophylline capsule by mouth, along with an albuterol filled nebulizer every 4 hours.  But sometimes those 4 hours were too far apart and I would have to give him an injection.  I am sure now there are other methods of keeping an asthmatic child breathing but we did the best we could.  At 5 he was diagnosed with allergies that rival mine, though his were all environmental at the time.  So we added allergy shots to our list.  Long about the time he turned 10, we weaned him off his theophylline by mouth, the shots were few and far between, though the nebulizer was a back up we were never far from.  These days he carries an inhaler in his pocket and an epi-pen in his car and one at home.


I have often thought it was probably a good thing I had him when I was too young to really know any better. I mean if I had him at say, 39 instead of 19, I think I would have probably had several nervous breakdowns. As it was, I had no experience, therefore didn’t bring any preconceived notions about what was normal.  This was normal for us. So to say that Zach and I are close, well that is probably quite the understatement.  We grew up together, why wouldn’t we be close?

Now he has grown up and has a little boy of his own, Samuel.  Who I am happy to report shows no sign of inheriting his dad’s penchant for near death experiences.  Here is one of my favorite pictures of Zach and Sam (April 2009).


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