The Old Version of Myself... I'll see you again one day!

For my entire adult life, when someone asked me what I like to do for fun, traveling was always the first thing I said. Ryan and I spent the first ten years of our relationship traveling the world together; it was what we loved to do and sharing that passion, curiosity, and willingness to get on a plane with just a backpack and no plans, was something that felt really sacred between the two of us. Traveling, we agreed, would always be a part of our lives and we were excited to bring our children along for the ride. We wanted to show them the world and give them the gift of exploration and exposure to different cultures that we both so dearly cherished.

When Kensington was ten months old we took a three-week trip to Israel and South Africa (I had a scheduled work trip to Israel and then we went to visit Ryan's family in South Africa). I remember people telling us we were crazy for taking those flights with a ten-month old, warning us of jetlag, in-flight crying fits, and the break in routine that would be so hard for a baby to adjust to. Ryan and I brushed the criticism off; we loved to travel and we weren't going to let kids damper our style! And to be honest, she was the coolest traveling baby we could have ever asked for. She didn't cry once on any of the long-haul flights, she slept at all the right times, jetlag wasn't an issue, and she adjusted just fine to the hummus in Israel and the spicy curry in Cape Town! We hiked Masada and Table Mountain, visited wineries, swam in the Dead Sea, visited animals on safari, and walked the streets of Jerusalem all with her strapped to our back and with a smile on her face. We created incredible memories and I couldn't wait to do it again.

Like the rest of the world, our travel endeavors came to a halt in 2020, and since Jack was born in 2021, it didn't resume again until January 2022. This time, we were traveling with two kids. And once again, everyone told us we were crazy. I had a work trip scheduled in Lisbon and we decided to add Paris on the front-end of the trip just for fun. Paris was just that - fun!! We walked miles with the kids bundled up in snow suits in the stroller; we drank champagne, visited the Eifel Tower, toured the Louvre, took photos in front of the Moulin Rouge, etc., etc., etc. Lisbon was not quite so successful (we all got COVID - BOO). But nonetheless, we'd continued with our passion of traveling and were excited to do it all again.

Two months after that trip to Paris and Lisbon was Jack's anaphylactic reaction. The first thing that entered my mind, was, what if we were flying over the Atlantic? For days, I couldn't get it out of my head and the thought still haunts me over a year later. Is traveling internationally over for us for the foreseeable future? Even if the doctor says it's ok, will we have the courage to do it? I can already hear my parents telling me it isn't worth the risk.

As moms, we give up a portion of ourselves the day we become mothers. No matter how much we try to preserve the younger versions of ourselves, our lives evolve and reshape to make space for our children. I had been okay with everything I'd given up; it was all worth it! I even took a step back in my career and happily embraced the less demanding (and less senior) role to spend more time with my kids. However, once I became an allergy mommy, my spontaneity and relaxed approach to life, were stripped from me, too, and that's when I felt a true yearning for my younger self. I'd always been a 'go-with-the-flow' and free-spirited type of person. Anxiety had no place in life, it was something I was lucky to never experience. I never stressed or obsessed over details; I always figured things would work themselves out. But over the last year, as I've checked food labels over and over again, wiped down public surfaces multiple times, typed the same questions into Google that I'd just discussed with the doctor, failed to introduce Jack to new foods out of fear of a reaction, and inspected his skin for anything out of the ordinary, I've watched myself transform into a new version of myself. A version of myself who worries, stresses, has anxiety, and obsesses over the details.

Over the past few months I've held grief and sadness about the inherited stress and anxiety that have entered my life. At times it has felt like I've transformed into a neurotic form of myself that I barely even recognize. Is this dramatic? Sure, probably. Is it the truth about how I feel? Yes, it is.

I know that this is the version of myself that Jack needs right now. The version of myself who is going to advocate for him until I'm red in the face, the one who is going to remember to bring the EpiPen everywhere we go, the one who is going to remind everyone in the room that my child has a food allergy and the one who will do whatever it takes to keep him safe.

I miss traveling. I miss not worrying. I miss being the relaxed cool mom I set out to be four years ago.

I feel beyond lucky to have healthy and happy children and to have great family and friends who support us.

But two things can be true. We're allowed to be grateful and also angry and sad for the things we can't control and wish we could change at the same time. We're allowed to wish our kids didn't have food allergies not only because we want them to be safe and experience food and social interactions in a 'normal' way, but also because it makes being a parent harder.

I'm so grateful for the moms and community I've recently found who have reminded me that these feelings are OK.

So, to the younger and cooler and more relaxed version of me, I'll see you again one day... maybe even on the other side of the world!!

XO,

​Michelle