Worrying & What Ifs

When we left Italy I assumed I would no longer need to worry constantly about Keira because she will (hopefully) be “fixed”; that my focus would shift solely on Livvy and making her as comfortable as possible as this disease continues to take her life. That was wrong. I feel as if I am even more concerned about all the girls than ever before.

For Keira, while it’s an absolute miracle she received gene therapy treatment, in a few months she will be approaching the age when symptoms began to show in Olivia. So I find myself surveying her every move to ensure I don’t see anything “off”, even though she is developing normally thus far.

For Livvy, it is as I expected. We know what her future holds yet each day can be a different symptom causing her pain. While we manage that, we are working on getting her long term care, discussing if “schooling” is even an option for her and continuing her weekly treatments.

For Eva, we answer any questions she has about her sisters as they arise. Things like “Why can’t Olivia get the treatment Keira got?” and “Why didn’t I get MLD?” My heart is already breaking on her behalf in having to lose her sister much too soon. I can only hope and pray that Keira’s treatment does its job and she has a long life ahead of her to make memories with Eva. Otherwise, I am already thinking about the therapy and/or survivors guilt she may deal with as a result.

As any parent of a child with a rare disease, it is hard to keep the “what ifs” at bay and not consider what the future holds but we do our best to stay strong for the girls and keep those faces smiling as much as possible.

Home Sweet Home

On Friday, January 8th, we arrived home after 5 months in Italy. While we were essentially quarantining most of that time due to the pandemic in various stages and out of safety for the girls, each day was non-stop and it went by in a blur. As a client and friend of mine, Chris Rose, told me about being a work-from-home parent, “the days are long but the weeks are short.” 5 months seemed like an eternity at the beginning and now seems so minor.

Once we hit the halfway mark, I was actually dreading coming home. And I think I was the only one to feel that way. I felt like coming home meant while Keira would be saved it would be time to face Olivia’s very limited future and the decline to get there. Granted, this would happen no matter where we were in the world but, to me, our time in Italy felt like we were in a bubble, away from reality. And coming home meant popping that bubble.

The week before our flight my stomach was in knots. But I knew it would be good for every one of us to be home. Livvy was actually clearly excited, which can be a rare occurence. While she can’t talk to us she still understands everything so we told her we would be going home the following day and that she got a new big girl bed in her room. Her eyes lit up, she got a big smile and gave her little laugh. That night, she couldn’t even get to sleep like normal because she was so excited. And on the plane rides home she didn’t sleep a wink; eyes wide open and ready to be back.

Now, having been home a few days and readjusting after jet lag, I am beyond glad we are here. Eva has her room and her “poochie poos” (our dogs, Watson and Sherlock), Livvy has her new bed and her normal surroundings with better temperatures to be outside (she loves being outdoors), and Keira has her actual home, her own room and so many toys to re-explore since she may not remember much after spending half of her life in Italy.

What an unreal journey to say the least. But we are beyond grateful for this entire opportunity and the many people who have touched our lives to make it possible. We will definitely be leaving behind a piece of our hearts in Milan but are looking forward to figuring out whatever our new “normal” may be here at home.