This week, my darling 15-month-old daughter will undergo an endoscopy to determine whether her severe food allergies are instead part of a life-altering disease called eosinophilic esophagitis. When I was sitting in her bedroom after midnight tonight holding her as she cried, I was inspired to write this poem. It's probably not very good, but it's heart-felt, and it describes the bittersweet life of a mom of a sick child. (Suddenly I'm a little nervous about posting poetry...)

I love her to the moon and back again
I love her to the stars and back again
I love her through the long, sleepless nights
I love her when she wears green dresses and pink pants
I love her when she cries and screams
I love her when she smiles at the way her black shoes sound when she stomps them on the floor
I love her when I hold her down for painful tests and sing calming nursery rhymes to her until my throat hurts
I love her when she smiles and giggles
I love her when she says, "No, no, no," in the tiniest, sweetest little voice you've ever heard
I love her when she throws up on me and soaks me down to my new shoes
I love her when she tries to make the hand motions to "The Itsy Bitsy Spider"
I love her when she sings parts of songs like "Up above the world so high" and "Row, row, row"
I love her when I have to save a dirty diaper in a restaurant so that I can bring it home for a stool sample
I love her when she says "Hi, hi, hi, hi" to my dogs as she pats their ears
I love her when she laughs at her brother doing something stupid (again)
I love her when I pay the $400 monthly bill for her special formula, and I even love her when she doesn't drink it
I love her when we have two doctors appointments in a week
I love her when she tries to comb my hair with the wrong end of the comb
I love her when she blots my nose with her snotty tissue
I love her when I pack the omnipresent epi pens in my diaper bag, purse, stroller, or pocket
I love her when she makes a mess of the too-small clothes bag and digs out her favorite orange shirt
I love her when she refuses to eat the latest weird pancake I made out rice flour and pears
I love her when she wrinkles her nose up into her special "funny face"
I love her when she sits and "reads" a book out loud
I love her when she hangs on the front of my pants and whines until I hold her
I love her to the moon and back again
I love her to the stars and back again
I am so blessed.