Charlotte's Journey

Google. It’s a friend and an enemy. Who hasn’t googled this or that and often been disturbed by what they find, especially if it’s a medical question. I still don’t know what search path led me to Melissa Wiggins and her foundation CKc Cannonball Kids Cancer Foundation, but I am damn well sure it started with the omnipotent google. Shortly after diagnosis, we let Charlotte’s Preschool know that we needed to rescind her registration for the 2016-2017 school year and we also out right asked for prayers. The director Wendy, who is also a member of our church, was processing our refund and wanted to let me know she had a contact to introduce us to whenever we were ready. This contact was a mom of twin girls at preschool and was the CEO of a foundation for pediatric cancer. Turns out the mother who started this very foundation is the mother of Cannon,  also battling Stage IV Neuroblastoma. I thanked Wendy, but I was not ready to contact anyone. We were still in shock and processing and very

2 weeks ago Riley Rose passed away. She died surrounded by her loving parents on April 13 at 3am, while in a Texas hospital. She never made it back home. I’m sorry I didn’t update. I think I needed some time and a break. Witnessing what we are, I guess it takes it toll.  There have been so many heartbreaking stories of children fighting this disease that we’ve come to care about recently. And to tell you the truth, I have only just recently been able to put a name to something I have truly been feeling: survivor guilt. I don’t understand it in its entirety and I cannot really even describe its relevance but I do believe it is a real feeling and perhaps part of the recovery from trauma. And for me, it has partially explained my incessant pull towards following and praying for children and families who are in the thick of the fight, and are losing. The other morning morning at church, we listened to a sermon on one of the hardest questions that could be asked: “Why does God allow Pain

With tears in my eyes but also the widest smile, I answered a strangers question by pointing at my children and identifying Charlotte. “My littlest. Charlotte”, was my answer. The question was “Which one of your children went through bone marrow transplant?” We were at a fun outpatient Easter event thanks to Dukes PBMT family support services and one of the volunteers couldn’t tell. You all, she couldn’t tell just by looking at a glance which of our children had gone through that. Charlotte looks just like any kid right now. She acts like any other 4 year old, or 10 or 16 or 40 or 2 year old depending on her mood 😆. (She can be such a tender old soul). But that question, which made me BEAM , took me by surprise. It seemed at first like this huge victory. Charlotte looks and acts so healthy. No outward evidence of any disease nor physical marks at a glance that could show what she’s been through just to be here. That is simply a God given gift and we know this. But, we can walk the wa

Charlotte wasn’t planned. We hoped and prayed for a baby after we were married. At just shy of a year married, we had an early miscarriage at about 6 weeks along. We knew those things could happen early on but it was very hard. We knew God must of had another plan for us, but back then my faith wasn’t at all like it is now. So, we tried again and in that next year, beautiful Taylor was born. Two years after Taylor, came sweet Parker. Life was perfect. It felt complete, our little family of 4 (or 5 if we count our furry baby Lucy). A couple years later, Brian and I discussed whether or not we wanted more children. We loved our little family and in many ways it did feel complete, but something inside wasn’t ready to make that official. I wasn’t ready to close that bridge and make a permanent decision. So, we pushed it off and carried on in our lives. The topic came up from time to time and I remember very clearly what Brian would say. “We have 2 healthy and amazing children.” He was ri