Healthy Baby

It’s hard for me to imagine, now, that screaming baby with head-to-toe open sores.

It seems an age ago since I heard that desperate, mournful tone: “Ma ma ma ma ma.”

It’s hard for me to imagine, now, how I felt: Helpless. Depressed. Awful.

Look at this child: Healthy, happy, whole.

The last few months have been transformational. Luca’s skin has held its integrity for nearly four months, after five terrifying weeks of suffering and three hospitalizations, preceded by a couple months of worry and rashes. And itchiness.

It’s hard to say what finally made the difference, but I believe it was a combination: medicines and skin treatments, stopping all solid foods temporarily, and timing. And especially prayers and hard work. Blood. Sweat. Tears. Baths. Wet wraps.

We are incredibly blessed to have discovered what was triggering Luca's horribly severe atopic dermatitis flare-ups (certain foods) and be able to remove those triggers from the equation. Many, many families are not so fortunate.

During our third hospital stay, at the advice of our military doctors, we decided Luca needed U.S.-level medical care. He needed a med evac.

Luca helping weigh himself before an appointment

Medical evacuation—med evac—sounds so intense. I imagine helicopters. Emergencies.

But really, the government will med evac employees or family members when they can’t get U.S.-level care wherever they are posted. Many pregnant women med evac to give birth.


So, Luca and I flew to San Francisco where top-rate UCSF doctors tweaked his medications, ran tests and gave us a plan of action.

Our time in California was like a surprise summer vacation in the middle of winter—figuratively and literally. I was hanging by an emotional thread when I left Seoul at the beginning of March, but my hotel (Hotel del Sol) was bright and cheery, orange and yellow and red. There were hammocks in the courtyard, and my room was called The Motivational Suite.

The weather was fantastic.

Uncle Dean & Aunt Amanda!

My family and my friends came to see me, hug me and play with my son.

We were well loved.

We spent a couple weeks in San Francisco, and then a month—in between follow-up appointments—at my parents’ house, five minutes from my sister and her family and twenty minutes from my brother and his.

The sun was out, the air warm. We cranked (coconut) ice cream and the kids swam in the pool.

Cousin fun!

It felt like stolen time.

For several weeks, a day couldn’t pass without one of my family members exclaiming: “This is a different baby than Hawaii!” or, “Can you believe this is the same baby we saw in Hawaii?!”

And it was true. Luca’s skin turned from alligator rough to baby soft. His recurring rashes were mild. Very mild.

Luca’s mood turned from pained to gleeful—my sister said he was one of the happiest babies she’d met. I could have cried.

It was as though he was making up for lost time—in grins and in development. He thrived: learned to sit up from a crawl and to pull himself up on furniture. His hair grew, and he stopped rubbing it off.

He (eventually) stopped needed to wear silk mittens at all times.

It was the most soul-healing six weeks of my life so far: family, love, sun, health.

The Kims, reunited

Joe visited from Seoul for a week—and his family met us for the weekend—which was amazing. But, despite our California love, that little visit from Joe wasn’t enough: We were more than ready to return home to be with him once Luca’s appointments were done.

Luca adored Uncle Albert

We’ve been back in Seoul nearly a month, and now, it is hard to imagine any of our suffering ever happened. It’s as though California erased the intensity of the past.

It was a time out, a reset button.

And now, we are cautious.

I am vigilant.

I watch Luca’s skin like a hawk and treat any rash immediately, bathe him daily, keep up with his creams and medications.

We introduce solid foods slowly, one food per week. Though, as we learned this week with chicken, it only takes a day to see his body react. Thankfully, we saw the signs early enough to stop chicken before his skin got too involved.

Honestly, I’m a little disappointed to find a new allergy. I’d started wondering whether I’d dreamed up all his issues and we were being too uptight with food. That perhaps Luca’s health struggles were really and completely over.

This is not the case.

But—and it gives me joy to say this—his condition is manageable. He does not suffer like he did. I’m learning what to watch for (dry cough, vomiting, painful diarrhea) and how to help him.

Maybe he will even grow out of his food allergies one day. Maybe.

Now, even as Luca is recovering from a small reaction, his spirits are high. I can barely keep from tearing up when I think about his health, his giggles, his grins.

He is almost a toddler now, and he is well. Normal. Curious. Healthy. Thriving.

Thank God.