By Kimberly Keys 
This is asthma mom life.
It’s panicking when your asthmatic child starts sniffling. What might be “just a cold” in some kids leads to nebulizer breathing treatments for your child.
It’s trying to figure out if this is allergy-related and we need to start his over-the-counter allergy medicine, or if this is the start of a cold.
It’s starting your child’s asthma action plan when you realize it’s a cold: albuterol every four hours at the first sign of illness.
It’s not sleeping at night because you’re sleeping in your child’s room to keep an eye on them all night (and maybe taking some pulse oximeter readings too).
It’s praying symptoms will stay mild enough to manage at home.
It’s calls with the on-call pulmonologist when symptoms worsen to see if it’s time to start prednisone to prevent the asthma flare-up from getting worse.
It’s snuggling your crying child who doesn’t want to take the nebulizer again, and asks why they have to have asthma.
It’s telling your child you would take their asthma away from them and give it to yourself if you could, and being heartbroken that you can’t.
It’s not knowing how to answer when he asks why, when he prays for his asthma to go away, it doesn’t.
It’s appointments with pulmonology to try to determine the right maintenance medicine.
It’s dealing with insurance companies to get the asthma medicine your child’s pulmonologist recommends covered.
It’s packing up inhalers (both daily maintenance and rescue), a nebulizer machine, and medication when you go on a trip. You wish you could just bring the daily maintenance inhaler, but you just never know when his asthma will flare up.
It’s being proud of him for knowing we have to check air quality readings when there are alerts.
It’s being sad when you check and have to tell your outside-loving kid that unfortunately, we can’t go out, because the air is bad for people with asthma right now. Maybe later today or tomorrow will be better.
It’s dreading back-to-school and all the illnesses that come with it.
It’s getting medication paperwork filled out for the school nurse and dropping it off with your child’s rescue inhaler for the start of the school year.
It’s canceled plans when your child’s asthma acts up, and being home with a sick and disappointed child—again.
It’s finding the strength to keep going through it all, no matter how hard it is, because you’d do anything for your child.
It’s hoping and praying somehow, someday, there will be a cure for asthma.
by Caitlin Henderson 
by Michelle Tate 
by Sarah Trombley 
