Parenting, as we've come to understand it, is an intricate tapestry of love, patience, and resilience. It's challenging, rewarding, and, at times, utterly exhausting. This complexity magnifies when your child is battling an illness, an adversary that no family should ever have to face. But here we are, navigating these treacherous waters together, holding hope as our compass.

From the very beginning, Owen has been our beacon of light. His laughter, a melody in our home, his smiles, a balm for our weary hearts. We were fortunate, blissfully unaware of the so-called "terrible twos" that plagued other families. Owen's tantrums were nonexistent, his displeasure expressed in mere whimpers over bedtime or the denial of a treat. It was manageable, predictable even. Yet, as he blossomed into a three-year-old, we observed a shift. There was a newfound determination in him to test boundaries, his "NOOOs" echoing a bit louder, his fists clenching a bit tighter. But even then, these moments of defiance were fleeting, hidden within the safety of our home.

The introduction of dexamethasone into Owen's treatment regimen marked a turning point. The medication, while a necessary evil in his battle against illness, brought with it unforeseen challenges. The physical changes were the first we noticed—the puffiness of his cheeks, the rounding of his abdomen. Yet, the transformation in his demeanor took us by surprise. Our once jovial boy was now frequently engulfed in anger and frustration. He declared allegiance to his mom, distancing himself from his dad, as he was a stranger. Even the presence of Nana, as mentioned in previous entries, whose visits were once a source of joy, now triggered outbursts that left us all reeling.

Despite being forewarned by his doctors, the reality of these side effects hit us like a freight train. We knew it wasn't Owen's fault; this aggressive persona was not him but a manifestation of the medication coursing through his veins. Nana, with her infinite wisdom and love, understood this too. She, like us, weathered his storms with grace, knowing that beneath the anger was the boy we all cherished.

As we stand on the brink of the last dose of dexamethasone, a sense of relief washes over us. Tomorrow marks the end of this particular battle, closing a chapter that has tested our strength, patience, and love. But the war is far from over. The upcoming procedure looms over us, a pivotal moment defining the next phase of Owen's treatment. Will we continue on the path of standard risk, or must we brace ourselves for a more aggressive approach?

The uncertainty of what lies ahead is daunting. Yet, amidst the fear and anxiety, there is an undercurrent of hope. I hope for good news and healing, and Owen's resilience will carry us through whatever comes next. As we face these challenges, we do so as individuals and as a united front. Together, we've weathered the darkest of storms, and together, we'll continue to navigate this journey, fortified by our love for Owen and each other.

Parenting, in its essence, is a journey of unconditional love—a love that knows no bounds, endures through the toughest of times, and hopes beyond hope. As we await Friday's procedure, our hearts are heavy with anticipation. Still, Owen's laughter and his smiles — even as little they come these days — keep the light of hope burning bright within us.