Dash was born after being induced, just like my other three children. He was actually overdo by a few days. He was a full pound under weight. The doctors didn’t have any answer for why he was smaller.
My pregnancy was very rough. The first part I was emotionally and mentally not myself. The second half I began experiencing problems with my stomach and energy. I would take a shower, dry my hair, and be wiped out. The third half I ended up in the ER a couple times, in and out of doctors offices. I was extremely fatigued, losing hair, not gaining weight, pain in my joints, and over all feeling like I was dying. Yes I know that sounds dramatic, but I assure you, I’m not being dramatic.
I know looking back God kept me and my baby alive and safe. I’ve read reports that women with untreated Lyme can lose their babies. I believe that had I not been praying for our health, I could have very well lost him to this disease.
I was infected during my second month of pregnancy, so as my young baby was growing inside me, a place where there were to be peace and safety, he was actually being attacked by bacteria. It’s dreadful to think about and brings me to the end of myself every time I let myself go there.
The first year of his life he was, what I would call, normal. He was a very happy baby. Very laid back and so very sweet. He smiled a lot, giggled a lot, and was growing on schedule. The second year we noticed him changing. He was fatigued a lot and would often just lay around the house. His personality began changing. Instead of being happy and laid back, he was raging, and crying a lot. It was beyond the terrible twos. We knew something was wrong.
Once I was diagnosed God began whispering to my heart to check Dash for Lyme disease. My PED argued with me, made me feel like crap, and essentially laughed me out of his office the day I asked for a Lyme test for my baby. I finally was able to get him tested with my Lyme doctor one year after my diagnosis, three years after being infected in my womb. His test came back positive. He began treatment right away.
Medical treatment was rough on him. He grew more fatigued and had Lyme rage like you wouldn’t believe. It was so bad. I ached for him, I ached for my other children living through this nightmare. I was also still fighting Lyme disease, so it was quite difficult on me taking care of a raging, sick child, while I, myself, was fatigued and sick.
He slowly began getting better to the point where I was positive he had Lyme disease. After two plus years of medical treatment, with some improvement, but not much, we switched him to the homeopathic treatment I am on. It’s too soon to tell if its going to work for him. I am hopeful. Ours is an ongoing story. One that I’m sure will result in a complete healing because of our Lord Jesus Christ, but one that is painful, and hard, and nothing I would wish on anyone.
He is now on a natural protocol like me. We are no longer doing antibiotics, we are doing herbs. So far, I’m happy with going natural. It’s easier on our stomach’s, and just as powerful on the bacteria as antibiotics.
On the way home from the doctor
At the doctors.
My warrior child.
Sweet exhausted child.