She’s our rainbow baby, our third-time charm, the reason our son wasn’t an only child. After two miscarriages, determined this would be our last attempt at adding a second child to our family, she surprised us all with her blonde hair. It was no surprise that she looked like a sweet-faced, blue-eyed cherub the minute she was born. Her spunky mission was clear even then. She liked being in charge. Though taxing at the time, years later, this would become very beneficial to her dad and me.
Our little princess repeatedly tried her best to dethrone the Queen until she realized the Queen was very like-minded and we surely must work together. She quickly became a sassy little toddler and has always been straightforward and sharp-minded. She liked to run the show, tattle on, and attempt to boss around her big brother. She had her daddy wrapped around her little finger, as often daughters do. She cried when her brother Jake got an occasional swat for something unrelated to her. But she was also the first to ask her dad to pull the car over and spank Jakee, when they were bickering.
Being humorous and quick-witted carried on through grade school. At home, she openly displayed these characteristics. At school, she wanted to be the perfect model student. It was apparent from early on that she encompassed the attributes of a natural-born teacher, even though she did not choose it professionally. She has always had a heart toward diversity and the underdogs. Her American Doll choices were twin boy and girl babies from China. She declared her plans to adopt children from there at the tender age of eight. Her sense of humor and belly laughs still leave little room for others not to join in.
She made history with the other 2020 high school graduates when graduation appeared to be wearing a disguise, literally. She was not feeling the call to take college classes and believed a graduation gifted mission trip would better direct her path. Close to the same time when she was supposed to go on her Haiti journey, doctors gave her dad an official cancer diagnosis. She chose to postpone her trip as we all attempted to comprehend such news.
Thirty-five rounds of radiation treatments later, it appeared he had won this battle. But within a few months, this led to many post-radiation difficulties. By the end of January 2021, he and I arrived at KU’s emergency room with multiple concerns. We never guessed we would live at the hospital for the next eleven days, and her dad would come home unable to talk with a tracheostomy and have a feeding tube. Although an adult, Lexie had never been home alone for this length of time. And none of us expected what was happening or what was to come.
We had another hospital stay a few months later. The breathing and feeding tube removed in March needed replacing in June, as there were concerns. His doctors suspected that he most likely had additional cancer. We were at the hospital for eight days to be treated, have surgery for the tubes, and a biopsy. Close to two hours away, Lexie assured us she was fine and that we all certainly would be.
A few days after we arrived home, we got the call and confirmation there was a large tumor in his larynx. We were all devastated. The life-altering laryngectomy, voice box removal we had fought against fathoming, was staring us dead in the face and threatening the life we all knew.
Lexie relied on the faith we had raised her with and reminded us to also. She journaled her prayers and praises almost daily. Months later her journal was stolen from her car. That was what broke her heart into pieces. Someone had invaded her private thoughts and stolen the pages of her dried tears. They took more than just a journal in a leather bag from her. But shortly after, she got a new journal and began again.
On the day Lexie’s dad was in surgery, just a few hours in, she sent me a text confirming she was positive for COVID. She had complained about not feeling great before we left, so we had already separated at home, just in case. But this was the last thing we needed to hear just a few hours into a 12 to 15-hour surgery and another seven-day stay to follow.
So she was now home alone for the third extended time within a few months and in total isolation and discomfort. She also missed her second opportunity to go on the Haiti trip. She called, face timed me, apologized for her tears, and said she needed her mom, but she knew I couldn’t leave her dad. I had always been there for her in the past when she was sick. I felt torn and concerned for her. Our son and his family could not comfort her either. They had previously gotten her through until we could get home. But now, she had to be in isolation.
We were all about to learn of our daughter’s inner strength.
Following her dad’s laryngectomy is when she began some serious schooling. It was not the book kind as many of her friends were participating. Life 101 came knocking at her door. She opened it and invited it in like a pro. She never hesitated in taking on things she had not previously done.
She quickly and efficiently learned about pharmacies and prescriptions, was schooled about grocery shopping, brands, and bargains. She bought toothpaste, shampoos, and all the necessities. She learned how picky her mom is. Though she had already known about cleaning, she kept the house immaculate. She started doing loads of laundry in the basement of our three-story home and carrying them up to the third floor. Over and over. She carried gallon after gallon of distilled water up the stairs for the humidifier necessary for her dad and so much more to assist us during difficulty.
She smiled, prayed for us, and kept showing up continuously. I know there were many silent tears, but she swiftly wiped them away and moved forward. She did whatever we needed as I attended and simultaneously learned a new life with her dad’s health changes. We were all on an unfamiliar path none of us had chosen.
Then about the same time that I could finally take back some of the roles she had selflessly accepted, I fell down our steps and fractured my foot in about five spots. Living in a three-level house was less than ideal for this scenario. I had to use a scooter, sleep on the downstairs couch, and quickly become utterly dependent on her for so many of my own needs. Although her dad was now much more independent with his health changes, she also started helping him as needed. None of us could believe the way it altered my daily life. I couldn’t even drive.
It now has been over four months since my fall and going on two years of her dad’s battle, and she continues to do much of the same. Even though it is not as necessary now as it had been, she supports us by choice. What I have shared here is just a small fraction of how she has helped at home. She is invaluable. She is our rainbow baby of renewal and hope that became our selfless rainbow adult daughter. She’s the rainbow that was present in one of our most challenging storms.
Our daughter did not start college or attend trade courses after graduation. But she independently and sufficiently has learned hands-on life lessons. She has earned an A-plus in my grade book, and if there were a dean’s list for Life 101, she’d be on it.
Hoping you find a place in my space! ♥
Reflection Question:
Who is someone that has been your rainbow during life’s storms?
1 Comment
Your stories on Lexi & Jacob are wonderful!! ❤️ to all