A Gift for Mom! 🤍

Written by:  Kathryn Gehring
 
When our daughter, Emma, was 7 months old, we had concerns about her development because she wasn’t using her left hand well, had eye tracking problems, and was experiencing poor weight gain. On January 2, 2013, our lives changed forever. The results of the MRI revealed that our Emma had a sizeable brain tumor at just 7 months old. It was devastating news for our family. In the days following her diagnosis, we struggled to understand why this was happening to our daughter and where to go next. There were many times that we weren’t sure how to go on or what to do next, but now two and half years later, we are Emma Strong and have lots to be thankful for.
 
In the past two and a half years, Emma has experienced more than we would have ever imagined. Shortly after her diagnosis, Team Jack shared their experiences with us and helped us to get in touch with Boston Children’s Hospital. On January 15th, 2013 Emma had her first surgery in Boston to remove 85% of her tumor. Emma’s surgeons shared with us that her tumor was not cancerous, but is fast growing; therefore it would have to be treated with chemotherapy. The good news is that if we can control the tumor’s growth until Emma is in her twenties there is a good chance that the tumor will stop growing and no longer cause problems. Emma also had surgery after this to place a shunt and a port, and then began her first chemotherapy regime to help slow the growth of the tumor. 
 
During the first year and a half of her treatments, Emma was on three different chemotherapy regimens. Unfortunately they were unable to control the growth of the tumor. Emma lost all of the skills she had fought so hard to gain back and it was heartbreaking to watch the tumor take away so much. In August of 2014, Emma had to have surgery to place a new shunt and then two weeks later another tumor resection in Boston. Since then, Emma has been on two different chemotherapy regimens, and we are praying that the one we are on now will finally work.
 
Unfortunately because of the tumor and the surgeries, Emma’s left side is much weaker than her right side, which has made learning many skills such as crawling, using both hands to play, talking, and walking more difficult. Emma has done two stays at Madonna Rehabilitation Hospital in Lincoln and continues to go to therapy twice a week to work on strengthening her left side, using her left hand more, weight bearing, talking, and walking. Emma continues to fight every day to learn skills that other kids learn automatically.
 
Every day Emma shows us her strength and determination.
 
We, like so many people took for granted that our children would be healthy. Pediatric brain tumors don’t discriminate, and can happen to anyone. It is devastating to hear that your child has a brain tumor and have your lives turned upside down trying to help her fight for the life every child deserves. Before Emma was diagnosed, I knew there were kids with brain tumors, but thought it was rare.
 
I have come to realize that it is in fact not rare.
 
We have had the opportunity to meet many children who are also fighting this horrible disease. As we sit at chemotherapy I am amazed by the strength of the children and families who are fighting for a cure everyday. These are some of the bravest and strongest kids anyone will ever meet. They deserve to have the best treatments possible so that they can have long and healthy lives. Unfortunately, many of the treatments being used are over 20 years old. Only one of the five treatments Emma has done is newer than this. It is hard to understand why there has been so little progress in treatment options in 20 years. It is so important for us to continue to raise awareness and funds so that better and more effective treatments can be developed to help these kids, and so that they can just be kids.
 
Although these last two years have been an incredibly difficult journey, we have so much to be thankful for. We have been overwhelmed by people’s generosity and support, and have been blessed with amazing friends and family. The support and acts of kindness that people have given to us have helped to give us the strength we need to fight. We have lots to celebrate, too. Emma is an amazing little girl who amazes us with her strength everyday! She is now three years old and we feel so lucky to be where we are. Our Emma is such a happy girl, and takes all of this in stride and usually with a smile on her face. She inspires us with her strength and happy personality. Emma is a fighter. She is truly Emma Strong!
 
You can follow Emma’s story at www.emmastrong.com. Sign up for email notifications when  new posts are up about Emma’s progress and you can also make donations or purchase t-shirts at that site. 
 
Help support Brain Tumor Research and Emma at the Princess and Pirate 5K Walk/Run. July 18, 2015 – Yanney Heritage Park in Kearney, Nebraska. Come dressed as your favorite princess or pirate! Popular Disney characters will meet you at the finish line!
 
 
$25.00 – Ages 13 and older
$15.00 – Ages 5-12 Years
(Children 4 and under are free and do not need to register)
Registration fee includes a 5K T-Shirt.
Registration:  9:00 am
Start Time:  10:00 am
 
Emma Strong - Fighting Pediatric Brain Tumors   www.herviewfromhome.com

Her View From Home

Millions of mothers connected by love, friendship, family and faith. Join our growing community. 1,000+ writers strong. We pay too!   Find more information on how you can become a writer on Her View From Home at https://herviewfromhome.com/contact-us/write-for-her//

Farewell My Father: Walking the Trail of Beauty in Old Age

In: Grief
Grown daughter and elderly father

In his last years, Dad spent his days in a chair by the big picture window. From there, he could survey all the comings and goings of the ranch. He watched the weather, the dogs, and our Arabian stallion, Axum, galloping through the pines and calling to the mares across the hill. Occasionally, Dad would alert us that a certain dog had escaped or that a storm was coming in. He was looking out. He was keeping track. He needed help to move even a few steps. At night, my husband or I cleaned him, dressed him, and tucked him into...

Keep Reading

Sometimes Healing Doesn’t Look Like Moving On

In: Grief
Young woman holding red umbrella walking next to canola field

Outside, the sky hung in a thick, dim slab, like a ceiling over the trees that stood crooked in the wind. Not the fresh spring breeze we’re used to in Florida, but the damp, cold kind that makes you pull your coat together with tight fists. I got there right on time, parked in a front spot in the almost-bare lot, and slid my violet boots with fluffy pom-poms onto the asphalt. I braced for the impact of the frigid air and tucked my body inward as I did a little hop-jog into the pub. Once inside, I let out...

Keep Reading

Now that You’re Gone, I Sit In This Waiting Room Alone

In: Grief, Loss
Woman looking at water

I lay in bed this morning, sweet boy. It is Saturday. Seven of them since you left. Half awake, I turned over and saw Grief staring right at me. She pounced then stood, haughty, on my chest. I couldn’t breathe. She yelled that she would be close today. If she feels like it, she might even be relentless. She is cruel. You were the reason, sweet boy, for me to get out of bed on a Saturday morning. Actually, every morning you were my purpose from the moment I opened my eyes until the moment they shut. I knew on...

Keep Reading

She Was the Glue That Held Our Family Together

In: Grief
Woman holding fish

They say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. I found that to be most true when my grandma passed. Like many grandmas, she was the best. She was kind and tender, but firm when she needed to be. She gave her time freely and used her baking talent to bless others. She had little and needed little, yet she had a way of drawing people together. There wasn’t a day I can remember when someone didn’t call her or stop by. She seemed to have all the answers and somehow knew how to fix almost any problem....

Keep Reading

My Parents Will Never See This Face

In: Grief
Woman with sunglasses shown in rear view mirror

You’ve had that moment, right? That moment when you don’t recognize the woman standing in front of you. Her hair is grayer. The skin around her eyes is a bit darker. Even without noticing the small details, that face is different. It’s aged. And as I stared at her yesterday afternoon, all dolled up and nowhere to go, it dawned on me: My parents will never see this version of me. My mom will never get to see hands that look like hers. She’ll never recognize the wrinkles or the sun spots. My father-in-law joked about gray hair with my...

Keep Reading

The Due Date that Never Comes

In: Grief, Loss, Miscarriage
Woman walking down path

It is not often talked about. I completely understand why, but when going through something so heartbreaking and devastating, women shouldn’t have to suffer alone or in silence. If you’ve gone through it, you probably already know what I’m referring to – miscarriage. It is the reason many couples don’t tell people they are expecting until after the first trimester. It is so unfortunately common that one in four women will experience a miscarriage in their lifetime. According to the National Institutes of Health, 15-20 percent of pregnancies will end in miscarriage, and it is the most common pregnancy complication...

Keep Reading

Repotting Myself: What My One‑Armed Grandpa Taught Me About Growing Anyway

In: Grief, Living
Black and white photo of older man in garden

I was never meant to be a plant person. I’m the woman who can kill a succulent on the way home from the store. Once, a fern sighed in my direction and gave up. That is my spiritual gift. My grandpa Dominic would have laughed—hard. He loved to laugh. And sing hymns passionately in Italian. He was an Italian immigrant who lost his arm working in a mill, and still, he woke up every morning and dressed like dignity itself. He shopped for my grandma. He fixed what was broken. And he tended the biggest, happiest garden you’ve ever seen....

Keep Reading

When I Look In the Mirror, I See My Mother

In: Grief
Woman with mother smiling in older photo

Recently, whenever I look in the mirror, I see a strong resemblance to my mother.  People always said I looked like her, but I never really saw it until now. I think it may be because you always think of your parents as being older than you are. At the age of 61, I am now only two years away from the age my mother was when she died. The only good thing about dying young is that everyone will remember you that way.  I have only known my mom as the vibrant, personable, and active woman she was. Well,...

Keep Reading

I Lost My Daughter on Mother’s Day: 3 Truths I’m Believing Today

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Woman and young daughter smiling

Editor’s note: This post discusses child loss Child loss changes Mother’s Day. My 19-month-old, Julia, died suddenly on Mother’s Day in 2024. Three months later, her autopsy revealed she had B-cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (B-ALL, also known as SUDNIC). Julia died a week after we did an embryo transfer at an IVF clinic in an attempt to have a second child. We found out three days after Julia’s death that the embryo did not make it either. Six months later, we did another embryo transfer that succeeded, and I now have an 8-month-old daughter, Lucy Mei (“Mei Mei” means “little...

Keep Reading

I Miss Having Parents

In: Grief
Grown daughter posing between smiling parents

I have been living with the ache of loss for so long that I truly don’t remember what it feels like not to carry it. Sometimes it rests quietly beneath my ribs, dormant and almost polite. Other times it rises without warning—on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, in the middle of a coffee line—and cuts straight through me. Today, it was a song. I was waiting for my coffee when “Pictures of You” by The Cure drifted through the café speakers. I hadn’t heard it in 20 years. In my twenties, it meant heartbreak—young love unraveling, relationships ending before they were...

Keep Reading