Yes, it would have been more appropriate to celebrate Mother’s Day with this post, but ironically (or is it coincidentally) the job of being a mom has really prevented me from preparing this post before now.

On this Mother’s Day, I found myself thinking back to all those times during Emma’s illness, subsequent celiac diagnosis and eventual permanent lifestyle change where the Mom really came out in me, both quietly and ferociously.

Here’s my list starting with before diagnosis and goes chronologically from there - maybe you can relate:

I remember...
  1. Before diagnosis, wondering why my daughter, celebrating her first birthday, refused to eat cake and threw a tantrum.
  2. Looking at my 1-year-old daughter with skinny legs, bloated tummy, and crabby disposition and wondering - is this the way the next 17 years will be.
  3. Questioning doctors about why my daughter throws up so much and has such a big belly - I was treated like I was an overprotective mom who knew nothing.
  4. Cleaning up vomit on the carpet, on clothes, in the kitchen, in bed, on the wall, on stuffed animals, etc.
  5. Leaving work early and in tears because something was wrong with my daughter and no one knew what it was.
  6. Feeling the best relief ever when a gastroenterologist confirmed our doctor’s eventual diagnosis of celiac disase - just by looking at her. Solidifying the fact that we weren’t crazy!
  7. Getting up at 4:30 a.m. to fix 16-month-old Emma breakfast at the latest acceptable moment because she couldn’t eat for 8 hours before her endoscopy and biopsy.
  8. My eyes welling up in tears as the anesthesiologist put the mask on my daughter to put her “under” for the