it's in his genes

Deep down we always knew this day would come.

Still, it's scary, because you are never quite prepared for that moment. When you are walking in the parking lot, holding your son's hand, suppressing the panic and fear as you make your way to the doctors office, and his little voice, gasping for air, pleads for you to slow down even though you are already walking slow.

I've only known asthma as an outsider, observing those in my life who suffer from the disease. So when I reached down and picked up my son, carrying him into the building as fast as I could, I bit my lip hard, in order to fight back the tears. Step after step, I listened to the horrible wheezing and short, shallow breaths and thanked the lord that Fred was home to recognize the symptoms and know to call the doctor. Thankful that our pediatrician made time to see Mason.

This was yet another one of those most painful moments I've had to face over the last four years on this adventure called motherhood. Sitting in Walgreens, waiting for the albuterol, prednisolone and to become the owner of our very own nebulizer, I wondered how different his life would be from this day forward. Would I be paranoid every time he goes to school or my moms or anywhere I am not? Would I sit up all night listening to him breathe when he gets a simple cold? Will I worry about putting him in sports? Then I am reminded that Fred developed asthma around the age of 5 and he played soccer well into his adulthood. Now, I can't remember the last time he had an attack or I really worried about his breathing, thanks to Advair. This and the many, many friends who have children who are on nebulizers and they are living extremely active lives, playing t-ball and other sports.

Mason, having suffered through sitting still for the nebulizer treatments was non-stop at Taco Night. Running, jumping in the bounce house for hours, only sitting down long enough to eat some mac n cheese and cake before he was off again. You would have had no idea he was rushed to the doctors 24 hours before and almost passed out during the treatment because of the adult dose he needed.

I must remind myself that he is going to be fine. At this point, it is believed to be allergy related and since being on the prednisolone and claritin he hasn't needed to use the nebulizer in days. Which should make Sophie happy. She is terrified of the whole thing. The noise, the mask on Mason's face, she's concerned about her brother, which I find so endearing. We'll see how he does once off the steroid, come Wednesday. If he has another one, then we put him on preventative medicine. Seeing as Fred has asthma, as do his brothers, and that Mason had eczema as a baby and suffers from allergies it almost seems inevitable.

He will be able to live a normal life. I must keep repeating that to myself. Still I can't help but see him through different eyes. Life just feels totally different somehow. But as always in true Mason style, you'd never suspect a thing.