Why do we accept medications for our symptoms when we don't know the cause of…
Part 3: Illness
By this day last year, I was well into whatever sickness we had returned home with from Ethiopia. I don’t have too many memories from Mothers Day last year because I was throwing up all day. By now, we had decided to keep sweet Freh away from me and my germs as much as we could because we didn’t want her to get sick.
She would come to my bedroom door and knock so softly and say “you in nare Mommy?” And try to open the door. I can hear her little feet running on the hardwood floors upstairs. And her voice behind that door. A few times, she got the door open and ran to my bed. She would just stay a minute and I sent her on her way. I remember once she put her hand on my arm and said “you so sick, mommy?” I told her yes and smooshed my face into her big mass of hair and inhaled her scent like it was medicinal.
Off and on that day, she would pop in to see me and check on me. She spent the day with Farmor and Farfar (Sten’s parents who were staying with us) they were so good to her. I remember thinking that I was gonna start feeling much better by Tuesday and I wanted to finish switching Freh’s winter clothes out for all the summer stuff I had bought at Target a few weeks ago.