Yesterday, I was telling Kayla that she would be seeing her doctor on Saturday. She remembers him as the one who "took her itchies" away when she had the viral hives. I told her that he was going to test her to see if she could eat dairy. I also told her that he may want her to drink some cow's milk. This resulted in this exchange:

Kayla: Does Cow's milk have dairy?

Me: Yes honey it does.

Kayla: Then I can't drink cow's milk.

Me: I know honey, but that is what Dr. Wach's is going to tell us.

Kayla: Pointing to her cup of soy milk. My milk doesn't have dairy.

Me: No honey, it doesn't.

There are so many unknowns hanging over my head. The future beyond Saturday is a huge unknown. And in these days leading up to find out what Kayla's future holds, I can't help but see the parallels to my battle with infertility. In infertility, the time between ovulation and the day you take that pregnancy test is called the "2ww" (2 week wait). It's infamous among us infertiles. It's that time where you try oh so hard to convince yourself that you are indeed NOT pregnant b/c in some warped way you think it will make the negative test easier to bear, when in reality, nothing makes it easier. But in the 2ww, you can't help but let your mind run away with you - imagining every twinge to be a baby settling in for 9 months, imagine all sorts of ways of sharing the news with your hubby and your family, only to have that crushing reality of yet another failed cycle crash down around you burying you in grief. During the IVF cycle in which Kayla was conceived, I was convinced that pregnancy and motherhood was something so wonderful - that it was something too wonderful to happen to me. I was convinced I would never be a mother. I find myself doing that now. I keep telling myself that there is NO WAY Kayla could really have outgrown her allergy. That is something that is just too good to happen to us. It's a defense mechanism of sorts, to make that crushing reality, should it occur, easier to bear. I know it won't work, but still I find myself doing it. Then I can't stop myself from imagining doing "ordinary" things with her. Taking her to the zoo or the amusement park w/o packing a single food and just buying whatever she feels like eating at the time. Taking her out for real pizza and ice cream on a hot day.

Infertility consumes your life. It's a state of living - the doctor's visits sometimes every day - the tests, the monitoring, the surgeries, the needles and hormones and the financial strain. For years, I took my temperature first thing when I woke up and charted my temps so I could monitor my fertility. This was no easy habit to break. Even while pregnant, I was constantly monitoring my body and before Alysa, I didn't need to temp b/c I KNEW my body so well. But again, it meant paying close attention to everything. After Alysa was born was the first time I could let that go. No charting, no doctor's visits, no worrying about fertility or tests. It was such a strange feeling. I didn't know how to "be". It took me a long time to get out of the baby-making mindset. I know that is how it would be if Kayla really does outgrow her allergy. Will I ever be able to look at a goldfish cracker w/o it sending chills down my spine? Will I ever be able to go to a party w/o feeling the need to carry extra wipes, a bright green epi pen pouch and their own personal cupcakes? I know that eventually, I would "settle" into some state of normalcy. But I also know that just as infertility irrevocably changed me, Kayla's allergy has done the same.

Infertility made me more compassionate. Although I may not understand someones crisis, I feel that I can be a better friend. I may not know what to say, but I know much better what NOT to say. Kayla's allergy has made me more aware as well. I like to think that even if Kayla had never been allergic to dairy, that I would have been as understanding as possible for a non-food allergic Mom to those parents of food allergic children. But I know now, that when my gf with a newly diagnosed peanut/tree nut allergic child comes over - I will not be offended when her eyes constantly dart around my house looking for that one peanut/tree nut morsel that my vacuum may have missed. That when I make a cake that is made with a dedicated peanut/tree nut free cake mix and other safe ingredients from my house and she still won't let her daughter eat it b/c she doesn't trust anyone but herself to cook for her daughter, that I will not be offended. I'll understand b/c I am that person now.

Both infertility and Kayla's food allergy brought some really wonderful friends into my life. And as sad as it may sound, both made family and friends alike leave my life. With this I know that those that would turn their backs on family and friends in need were never truly a part of your life to begin with. Although I would never have chosen to battle infertility or live with Kayla's food allergy, I would not trade her or the friends I've made through these journeys for anything.

I sit here trying to tell myself that the worst case scenario really just means that things stay as they are (well, technically it could get worse if her reaction were to escalate, but I won't let my mind go there). But it's never that simple. Not when you're faced with your child's life getting insurmountably better. So much is riding on these tests. And just as the end of the 2ww can't come soon enough, I am dreading the tests that have the ability to take away the hope that is keeping me going these last few days.