When you’re pregnant and even before, you find yourself daydreaming of how things will be. You picture yourself as a mom and your husband as a dad. You have this “image” of what your family will be like. I am nothing like how I pictured myself. I thought I’d love family gatherings. I thought I’d be fine with people loving on him and I thought that him playing in the dirt and grass would be an everyday occurrence. I was wrong. I DREAD family and social gatherings. I HATE people loving on him and do not allow kisses. And all I can think when playing outside is, “Will this grass break him out since he’s allergic to what seems like everything?, Are there chemicals on the lawn that could harm him since everything goes in his mouth?” People tell me “Just relax. He’s fine. Calm down.” The reality is I can’t just relax. Since having a baby early; having a baby with special needs (something I refused to let myself say out loud for months), I am filled with anxiety. It’s not something I can simply turn off. Some may call it PTSD. Some may say it’s a hormonal imbalance. Others may argue I’m just uptight or pushing people away. Call it whatever you want but I’m just trying to protect my son. What every mother tries their best to do. We have spent more hours than I can count inside Children’s Hospital facilities. And not because of admissions. We have six specialist and three different types of therapy. And as much as I LOVE our care team, I don’t want to spend any extra time there. I say we and our versus he and his because we are in this fight together. Our son will never fight this battle alone. We are his voice and his protectors. His advocates.