I noticed the first one on Christmas morning. I was carrying Kohen’s breakfast plate to the sink when I saw it.

It was an innocent looking hair. I thoughtlessly plucked it off the plate, then I froze. It took a few seconds for it to register that this was no random hair. It was the first domino in what would be Kohen’s total hair loss.

I wasn’t certain how I’d feel about that day when it arrived (the day Kohen’s hair would begin falling out). I knew it was coming, and I thought I was prepared for it.

I wasn’t.

That realization hit like a ton of bricks. And it hurt . . . a lot.

The solitary hair on Kohen’s plate was just another cruel reminder that my boy is sick and the answer to his sickness (in the medical field of the 21st Century) is to poison him with chemicals so toxic, it causes his hair to fall out, his hearing to be permanently damaged, and a laundry list of other ailments that will arise throughout his life.

But, as with everything now, I suppressed my feelings about the hair loss and moved on. It’s a coping mechanism that, for the time being, helps.

To support their younger brother, Kohen’s older brothers all agreed to shave their heads, and in turn, Courtney agreed to purchase them all hats of their favorite football teams for doing so. It turns out that Christmas day would be the day the shaving would begin.

So, before dinner Courtney shaved Kohen’s head. After dinner she shaved Asher’s head. Two days later, when the boys’ hats arrived in the mail, it was Calvin and Elijah’s turn.

Thank you, boys, for supporting your baby brother during all of this. You all look so handsome, and mommy and daddy are so proud of you guys.