Dear Mom, thanks for... well, everything.

Mom,

Not long ago, I sat on my bedroom floor, hysterically crying. Everything was piling up and I honestly had no idea how I would get through the next few days... I was signed up to participate in an online virtual conference for adults with cystic fibrosis, called BreatheCon. I was suppose to go on a practice hike to train for my upcoming Xtreme Hike. And finally, I had my first follow up appointment with the transplant team at Duke University. Throw in a long work week, boy drama and the stress of being the lead planner on a volunteer event happening while I was out of town, I was done. I was past my breaking point. I felt overwhelmed and defeated. I didn't want to do any of it. I didn't want to attend BreatheCon, I didn't want to hike, I didn't want to go to Duke. I only wanted to crawl into bed and cry.

 
Yet, somehow, less than an hour later, I was logged into BreatheCon listening to one of the most inspiring panel discussions I've ever heard. 15 hours after that, I hiked 8 miles and was standing on top of a mountain. Another 48 hours later, I was walking out of my transplant appointment, feeling genuinely optimistic and motivated to keep pushing through the adversity that is living with cystic fibrosis.

It didn't just happen "somehow" though. It all happened because of you. Everything that's happened in the last 25 years, everything I've been able to do, is because of you.

I often get praised for being strong, resilient and accomplished despite my cystic fibrosis, but I didn't become any of those things by chance. I had the most incredible role model to show me how. Last weekend was a challenge and I got through it, but not by myself. I got through it, because of you.

So thank you, Mom. Thank you for everything. 

Thank you for not running away from the immense responsibility that was placed on you the moment you found out your child was chronically ill. You didn't ask for this life any more than I did, yet you never doubted or denied what was now being asked of you. You accepted your new reality as the parent of someone with cystic fibrosis and committed to being the best one you could be.

Thank you for the many minutes you spent on the phone with insurance, pharmacies, doctors' offices, medical suppliers and more making sure that I got what I needed. All the while, teaching me to be patient, yet self-sufficient and grounded so I could one day handle it on my own.

Thank you for teaching me that knowledge is power and a well informed decision is the best one you can make. You made sure I knew to ask questions when something didn't make sense. And when someone couldn't answer those questions, you showed me how to find my own answers.

Thank you for empowering and encouraging me to be my own advocate. From a very young age, you allowed me to take ownership of my illness and taught me to trust my gut. Now, at 25, I am not ashamed, scared or shy when it comes to interacting with my medical providers and I've learned how to speak up for myself. I have confidence because you gave me countless opportunities to be confident.

Thank you for taking the time to share your personal medical background and experience so that I truly understood what was happening with my disease and my body. It's not often that someone with a chronic illness has a doctor for a mom so I consider myself pretty lucky to have had my own personal WebMD for every question and concern.

Thank you for being willing to give up your career as a physician, where you could've been a doctor and changed the lives of thousands, to commit yourself fully to just one, to me. You sacrificed your professional dreams, so that I would someday have the chance to pursue my own.  

Thank you for always being patient with me. There are so many times that I'm just not ready to accept the next round that my cystic fibrosis is dealing out. You give me time and space. But when I finally come around, you embrace me just as warmly as ever. And while we are both definitely thinking it, the words "I told you so" rarely come out of your mouth.

Thank you for always having the difficult conversations with me. Not many moms have to talk to their 20-something year old kids about their end of life wishes. I cannot imagine how painful those talks have been for you, but I truly appreciate your strength and willingness to have them. 

Thank you for being there every time I needed you, even when I didn't deserve it. On my worst days when I let my emotions get the best of me, I know that I am not an easy person to be around. I'm grumpy, cynical and stubborn. I push people away. I'm selfish and only thinking about myself. But no matter what, you're still there and you're still willing to give me another chance. 

Thank you for always taking my concerns seriously. And thank you for being honest with me when those concerns were ridiculous and irrational. You always let me know that my feelings are valid, even when my logic was flawed.

Thank you for letting me fall to my knees, hysterically crying when I need to, and then when the time is right, helping me wipe my eyes and stand back up.

Thank you for making sure I was never alone. Thank you for all the late nights and early mornings. Thank you for the countless hours you spent in the hospital. Thank you for all the sleep you lost so that I could get the rest I needed.

Thank you for being my biggest and most constant supporter. When I have good news, you're the first person I want to tell. You have never failed to tell me how proud you are of me. You have always believed in me. And your encouragement and companionship has made every happy moment that much sweeter. 

Thank you for being by my side through every high and every low. When I think back on my life and everything I have accomplished or been through, you were there. Not just for the big moments, but the little ones in between. You were there when I graduated college, but also for every term paper and exam that went into my degree. You were there for my double lung transplant evaluation, but also for the trivial time spent waiting at the pharmacy for a medication refill. It may not have been been a life changing moment, but just having you sitting beside me means so much.

Thank you for being the definition of unconditional love. You have always put my dreams and my joy not just above you own, but often times at your own expense. This past weekend is just one example. You hiked 8 miles with me, with a sprained ankle, because you knew how much it meant to me. If that's not the definition of selflessness, I don't know what is. 

Thank you for showing me that it's okay to be scared, but how also to push through the fear. Thank you for teaching me how to be courageous in the most adverse times. Thank you for being a calm, constant pillar of strength during the scariest and most chaotic situations.


Thank you for reminding me that sometimes, laughter really is the best medicine. The irony of last weekend, when you asked me what the topic of the BreatheCon was and through my tears, I answered "conquering my own Mt. Everest" and your response was to just laugh. Which, despite my frustration, made me laugh too.

Thank you for always being my unsung hero. Thank you for letting me shine even though we both know that you're the one who started the fire.

Thank you for being my rock, my inspiration, my very best friend. You are my heart and soul. You are my person. You are the reason I am who I am today. I've said thank you 28 times in this blog and I could say it 28,000 more times, but it still wouldn't be enough.

Love,

Your babygirl