tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19972791468044260272024-03-12T21:31:19.171-07:00fifi + mo Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-79215322449044789182017-02-23T08:19:00.000-08:002017-02-23T08:22:01.355-08:00I Got Brows!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_XdAMLI_9UE/WI4WTI4Z6pI/AAAAAAAAA2w/0tsr0KV_sOs/s640/blogger-image--1445017051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_XdAMLI_9UE/WI4WTI4Z6pI/AAAAAAAAA2w/0tsr0KV_sOs/s640/blogger-image--1445017051.jpg" /></a></div>
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I'm sure you've seen the newest eyebrow craze on Instagram- MICROBLADING. The thought of being able to wake up with perfect brows is a dream to many of us. Even for girls like myself, I have hair and a shape- my brows are just really translucent due to my fine hair. In other words - I never go out without them filled in.<br />
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I looked into the cost and discovered it was nearing one thousand dollars! Waaaaaaay more than I expected! Holy smokes! There's no way I can justify spending that much. Especially because when it comes to putting pigment inside your skin on your face, there's no guarantee your body is going to maintain it.<br />
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A girlfriend of mine posted that she got "hair-stroke tattoo" and that her eyebrow girl was running a Christmas gift-away. I looked into it and the hair-stroking method was just the look I was going for!<br />
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Well, it was the best Christmas gift I ever received! While I'm in no obligation to write this post, I feel the need to share!!<br />
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So many people think negatively about eyebrow tattoos, my grandmas were black then faded to a blue. So naturally I was nervous.<br />
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I showed up to my appointment a bit nervous. I never imagined I'd be tattooing my face! Tonia was super sweet and as I sat with numbing cream on she explained how the process works. We picked a plan based on my current brow shape, how I draw it on when I do my makeup, and what is the best way to execute. I like mine to look a little heavier (in-between MAC Makeup Artist + Clinique Makeup Artist does that help you visualize? Lol.) This will be our route for the two appointments. "Why two appointments?" you ask, let me share:<br />
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* First appointment: She will do a medium shade throughout the brow in "strokes". This is to fade and appear to be a "shadow" in the brow. We also need to establish if my body accepts or rejects the pigment.<br />
* 2nd appointment: I had a good amount of fading, so we opted to go heavier and darker for the "outline" and the remainder of the "strokes"<br />
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Touch ups may be needed every few years.<br />
I would suggest going darker the first time, because the fading will happen. Don't be scared! Lol.<br />
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I'm so excited to say that Tonia is offering a special rate of $400 for people I refer! (That's $400 total for two appointments.)<br />
Her email is Tonialonigro@yahoo.com and she is located:<br />
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Phenix Salon Suites<br />
1835 Newport Blvd #210<br />
Costa Mesa, CA 92627<br />
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Things to expect at the appointment:<br />
* A little bit of paperwork at each appointment, just some signatures and initials. Same as you would at a tattoo parlor or for laser hair removal.<br />
* I would dress comfortably and have your makeup on. You'll want her to see what your everyday look looks like. You will be laying on your back for about an hour, I don't know I just always think yoga clothes are the best option for everything- lol.<br />
* You won't feel a thing! You get numbed and honestly you will only feel pressure from her hands. I promise getting your brows threaded hurts 10x more.<br />
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<a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-UKPfCMO2Quo/WI4ZL4QWQTI/AAAAAAAAA28/6jQZLEltJ_U/s640/blogger-image--1648057563.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-UKPfCMO2Quo/WI4ZL4QWQTI/AAAAAAAAA28/6jQZLEltJ_U/s640/blogger-image--1648057563.jpg" /></a></div>
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* Buy Aquaphor. This is how you will care for and maintain your new brows.<br />
* Tip. Like any service you are receiving- Tip! :) <br />
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I'm so excited to have discovered Tonia + look forward to going back for my eyeliner!<br />
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<a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Ze_1LUAKiMY/WI4Zil4hFDI/AAAAAAAAA3A/Z0f6XHL4LJ8/s640/blogger-image-568367124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Ze_1LUAKiMY/WI4Zil4hFDI/AAAAAAAAA3A/Z0f6XHL4LJ8/s640/blogger-image-568367124.jpg" /></a></div>
(This was taken at the end of my 2nd appointment. Don't mind the photoshop my forehead was all chapped! Darn weather! And my makeup was running because we had a heart to heart cry sesh - seriously lol. )</div>
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<a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_uzWDvI29wU/WI4a2Rh0S_I/AAAAAAAAA3I/dFNPA-J-rew/s640/blogger-image-2140943043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_uzWDvI29wU/WI4a2Rh0S_I/AAAAAAAAA3I/dFNPA-J-rew/s640/blogger-image-2140943043.jpg" /></a></div>
Here they are two weeks later! I did my makeup and didn't even touch my brows! Amazing! Thank you Tonia!</div>
Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-59690792702747151902016-11-07T18:30:00.001-08:002016-11-08T07:47:30.920-08:00SDR • Discharged!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-v-Ho4jX5V-o/WCE4tuO8p0I/AAAAAAAAAtc/aLmTMJ02rhk/s640/blogger-image-1526027980.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-v-Ho4jX5V-o/WCE4tuO8p0I/AAAAAAAAAtc/aLmTMJ02rhk/s640/blogger-image-1526027980.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Day 5 finally arrived! Hallelujah. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We got a good amount of sleep, since she had no wires and wouldn't likely be vomiting I was able to sleep in bed with her. We are used to co-sleeping so this felt like a little slice of heaven. (Let's just say I'm gonna need a massage after the last 5 nights) but it's alllllll worth it! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Daddy arrived before we woke up. As soon as sweet Fin opened her eyes she was seemingly trying to push another little poopoo out. So I comforted her through. I debated going to shower and get ready for her grand exit this afternoon, but they moved up her therapy from 10 to 9:30am and everyone says you get discharged super quick after therapy. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cbSX8MHmfew/WCHzhsQtEEI/AAAAAAAAAt4/KoesNcpS5_Q/s640/blogger-image-766123018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cbSX8MHmfew/WCHzhsQtEEI/AAAAAAAAAt4/KoesNcpS5_Q/s640/blogger-image-766123018.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The nurse came in and discussed with us that the take home prescriptions weren't included in what we already paid, so we fumbled around to find exact change. We paid for it. Then it was time to go to therapy! Had this girl dressed and ready to go! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We went up and she was so excited to play! I couldn't believe the difference between yesterday and today. Huge. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">She crawled around, she's noticeable weaker, but still so motivated! It was a quick hour! We left therapy and went back to our room, the discharge papers were ready to go! We got them in hand and headed out! Woohoo! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NVtA0vc4Pic/WCHzktFWNSI/AAAAAAAAAuE/LAxvAE5Kp44/s640/blogger-image-1964943628.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NVtA0vc4Pic/WCHzktFWNSI/AAAAAAAAAuE/LAxvAE5Kp44/s640/blogger-image-1964943628.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We are discharged! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We went straight to the hotel! Finley remembered how much fun she had in the room, and got straight to playing. It felt so weird, like I blinked and the hospital was over. But then it felt like it had been years. Very surreal.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">She started getting sleepy, so we put her in bed. She took a nap and I got to take a shower! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Afterwards I just snuggled her for like 2 hours. It was awesome.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QKxES2xUedA/WCHzjvGgTlI/AAAAAAAAAuA/VO0oz_9xCV4/s640/blogger-image--613358211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QKxES2xUedA/WCHzjvGgTlI/AAAAAAAAAuA/VO0oz_9xCV4/s640/blogger-image--613358211.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We weren't sure if she was gonna wake up or be down for the night. It was only 5 and that just seemed like way too early. She woke up and was ready to go, we thought a nice little walk around would be the perfect outting for her (and us). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-x3a3rz4RUwM/WCHzi9k95QI/AAAAAAAAAt8/_ZH1JWXgKoA/s640/blogger-image-1633080731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-x3a3rz4RUwM/WCHzi9k95QI/AAAAAAAAAt8/_ZH1JWXgKoA/s640/blogger-image-1633080731.jpg"></a></div><br></div>I can't believe we are on the outside! Lol. So so amazing. We asked Fin what she wanted for her meal and she said, "PIZZA!" We found a yummy pizza place and enjoyed it outside so that she could stay in her stroller. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-eolQ5PRY16I/WCHzf5qQKXI/AAAAAAAAAtw/paOGhoRHwr0/s640/blogger-image--1924240231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-eolQ5PRY16I/WCHzf5qQKXI/AAAAAAAAAtw/paOGhoRHwr0/s640/blogger-image--1924240231.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>When we were done we asked her what she wanted next, and she said "ICE CREAM!" So that's what we went and got. In St. Louis there is no shortage of desert places. We approached one and it looked super rad, so we went in. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-m8jqJ29JgqM/WCHzg-sD-zI/AAAAAAAAAt0/fKF2_XYKClQ/s640/blogger-image-1921455039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-m8jqJ29JgqM/WCHzg-sD-zI/AAAAAAAAAt0/fKF2_XYKClQ/s640/blogger-image-1921455039.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">They were so sweet they gave Finley her own little scoop with sprinkles! She was in heaven! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We are to only have her siting up for a couple hours at a time, so we took her back to the room and snuggled our girl for the rest of the night. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We leave tomorrow afternoon, but I decided to leave all the packing for the morning. This was a moment I didn't want to miss. </div><br></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-35845866051992517702016-11-01T07:00:00.001-07:002016-11-01T07:01:30.329-07:00Our Open Adoption Interview<h2><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-t73ss2ZJpF0/WBigEGRsBdI/AAAAAAAAAs4/9LwiH2Lu-o4/s640/blogger-image--152476001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-t73ss2ZJpF0/WBigEGRsBdI/AAAAAAAAAs4/9LwiH2Lu-o4/s640/blogger-image--152476001.jpg"></a></div></h2><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As you may have already discovered, I'm the proud <adoptive> mother to my sweet little Finley. I know, she looks just like us. What you may not know is that we are in a very open-adoption with her Birth Family and super close with her incredible Birthmother Lex, whom we endearingly call "Leelee." I've written all about how our adoption came about in previous posts, should you find yourself curious there's quite a few that will answer some of the more adoptive-mom related questions. Over the years I've had so many people ask me the same questions about her, so I thought it would be nice to have one blog to reference all the Birthmom topics pertaining to our adoption. It was so interesting for me to discuss our Adoption story from Lex's perspective. I love that we can be so open with eachother, I love that we are both healthy enough to do so.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Without further ado... here is the chat I had with my baby mama. <b></b><br></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b></b></span></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b></b><br></span><div><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Walk me through what it was like discovering you were pregnant at 19.</b></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">At first I didn't believe it, I was way in denial! I was taking birth control so I never got a period. One morning my mom said it looked like I was pregnant, which I said, "no no.. I just gained some weight." Then enough people were suggesting I might be pregnant, so I finally took a test (or two) and they came out instantly positive. I was 4 months along when I found out. I don't remember being upset, I was happy, but I was scared to tell my parents. I wanted to tell my boyfriend in person, and coincidently the next time I saw him was on April 1st. I had to tell him, "this is not an April fools joke." He was upset. He stuck by my side through the rest of my pregnancy and even a little while after until my grief was better. <br><b><br></b><b>Did you feel as if you had a choice to keep the baby or not? </b></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> I felt Iike I had no choice at all. My mom just kept saying, "you need to get your life together first you can't raise a baby right now." I remember thinking, "even if i wanted to keep her, I couldn't."<br><b></b><br></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-U0Ee1ibg9Go/WBigEzk9aPI/AAAAAAAAAs8/UYRTKhAnnqY/s640/blogger-image-434701447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-U0Ee1ibg9Go/WBigEzk9aPI/AAAAAAAAAs8/UYRTKhAnnqY/s640/blogger-image-434701447.jpg"></a></div></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b><br></b><b>I know there was talk about your older brother possibly raising her? How did that go? </b><b><br></b>I remember we were thinking of letting my brother keep her and everyone seemed to all loved the idea. He wasn't going to adopt her, he was just going to be her legal guardian and then potentially when her Birthfather and I were more stable we would take care of her. My mom strongly suggested that we meet with an attorney and discuss what this would look like, so we did. The attorney referred us to a family therapist. At one of the meetings, both of our families came. We discussed that my brother was working all the time and that he would have no time to raise her. He is a single guy, and even though he has a great job, it just wouldn't have been t<i>he best </i>thing for my baby. I knew that I didn't want a nanny to raise her, because her birthfather and I both wanted her to have a mother and father raising her. That was what she deserved.<br><b><br></b><b>So, then what happened?</b><br> The attorney showed us several books of hopeful adoptive parents. I remember going through all of them and yours caught my eye. You just looked like a fun-loving woman and to be honest, I thought everyone's booklets were either boring or I just didn't like what they had to say about themselves. I kept getting drawn back to yours. You were my first choice, and her Birthfather picked a different couple for his first choice. I'm actually not sure why his choice couple was called first. I was relieved when we were told that they weren't available to adopt our baby, because I don't think I was all that happy about that pick. I know that I wouldn't have had a relationship like you and I have. I love our relationship.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b></b><br></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Oaiel7ILviY/WAgTvXElY7I/AAAAAAAAAkI/UZW7ayKGjWA/s640/blogger-image--1764440922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><font color="#000000"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Oaiel7ILviY/WAgTvXElY7I/AAAAAAAAAkI/UZW7ayKGjWA/s640/blogger-image--1764440922.jpg"></span></font></a><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b></b></span></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b><br></b><br><b>What were your fears before you signed the papers? Did you get to choose if the adoption was open or not? </b></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> I think I can remember telling the lady that I specifically wanted an open adoption. I knew I wanted to be able to see her grow up. I feel like as a Birth parent, if I chose to have it closed then my child might feel like I wanted nothing to do with her and deep down inside she might feel unloved. I never wanted Finley to feel like that- EVER- that was <i>definitely</i> a fear of mine. I wanted her to know I was still there for her if she ever needs a favor or anything. I'm always going to be there for her. I had a little bit of worry before signing the papers, but I had trust in you guys. I believed your promise to me, that you would openly communicate with me and allow me visits.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">What were your feelings right after the baby went home with us? </b></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The day she went home with you was a really hard day. Really hard. There was lots of crying, but I knew Finley would have a better life with you. I just kept focusing on the positive and looked forward to visits. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b>Was it hard waiting for updates and visits in the beginning?</b> <br>I LOVED getting text updates! I remember getting really excited every time you sent me a picture, if I was at her birth-father's house I would run to {her birth-grandmother} Kathy's room yelling, "we got pictures!" It was the highlight of our day. Waiting for a visit was really hard. It really was, but you learn to <i>move forward</i>. I do remember there were times where you said you were coming, but then you had to cancel. I would get really angry, upset, and end up crying my eyes out on an off for a couple days, it was like my heart broke all over again. But like I said, you <i>move forward</i> and it gets easier as the days go by. You just sort of become used to it and knowing that she was getting the life she deserved, honestly helped.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b><br></b><b>How did you feel during those first few visits?</b><br>I remember my heart being just... happy. I was really excited at visits. Of course it was sad when they were over, and it was really hard the very first time you left- because I knew she wasnt coming home with me. That was the hardest thing I've ever gone through. I remember though, that I was happy that I even got to see her at all, I know some birth moms aren't that fortunate. It was like an emotional rollercoaster, but watching you with her and her being so loved made it all worth it.<br></span><div class="_3hi clearfix" style="zoom: 1;"><div class="_38 direction_ltr" style="direction: ltr; line-height: 1.38; margin-right: 50px;"><span class="null" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"></span></div></div></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_biDUURnWCQ/V_j3Si7DAiI/AAAAAAAAAjM/nnLG6OuaUwg/s640/blogger-image-1331775137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: start; clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><font color="#000000"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_biDUURnWCQ/V_j3Si7DAiI/AAAAAAAAAjM/nnLG6OuaUwg/s1600/blogger-image-1331775137.jpg"></span></font></a><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b></b></span></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b></b><br></span><div><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></b></div><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">How did you feel when you first learned of Finley's Cerebral Palsy diagnosis?</b></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I remember you telling me that she had CP, I'll never forget that moment. I just started crying because I thought it was my fault. Honestly, even to this day I still blame myself - I think its a feeling I will always struggle with. I feel like it's my fault, I get teary eyed whenever I talk about it. I always wonder if there was something I could have done better when I was pregnant. Like, "could I have prevented it?" Even though you reassure me often that it's not my fault, I still <i>feel</i> like it is.<br><b><br></b><b>Did you ever have regrets about your decision to place?</b><br>I have never regretted my decision. I'm happy she has the life she has now the life I couldn't give her, the one she deserves. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hoP7iH42bSw/WAgVxmXKibI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/mDH2tLWbRGU/s640/blogger-image--444202806.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hoP7iH42bSw/WAgVxmXKibI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/mDH2tLWbRGU/s640/blogger-image--444202806.jpg"></font></a></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br><br></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b>I remember one day when you were visiting the NICU, you were crying and quietly saying, "I can't do this," and Kathy hugged you and said, "you can and you will." What were you referring to?</b><br>I said that? Umm? I don't remember saying that at all. I remember one of the things I wanted most was to see her and that's why I chose to have an open-adoption, but I was probably just really emotional that day. I was never going to back out of my decision to place. I had no choice. My mom said, "that's what you're doing." So thats what I did. <br></span><div class="_3hi clearfix" style="zoom: 1;"><div class="_38 direction_ltr" style="direction: ltr; line-height: 1.38; margin-right: 50px;"><div style="margin-top: 10px;"><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">What brings you peace in your decision?</b></div></div></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I think what's brought me the most peace is being able to watch Finley grow up. Experiencing her hit every milestone... even if it's from behind the screen, seeing her happy is what gives me peace. Also, just knowing that she is so loved by everyone.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br><b></b><br></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yNNVAtGRuEk/WAgSOz-kZpI/AAAAAAAAAj4/Arn5q12_WqM/s640/blogger-image-2106551202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><font color="#000000"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yNNVAtGRuEk/WAgSOz-kZpI/AAAAAAAAAj4/Arn5q12_WqM/s640/blogger-image-2106551202.jpg"></span></font></a><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b></b></span></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b><br></b><b>How do you feel about my choice to be so open with our journey?</b><br>I think it's great! I love that you're public because I get to see all of the love and support Finley gets! It is so wonderful to see how many people genuinely care about her, it's amazing.<br><br><b>Do you feel support from others about your decision to place?</b><br>Everyone has always been super supportive. I've never gotten a negative response. I always have friends asking to see pictures of Fin and they always ask how she's doing. When the whole adoption first took place it was really hard to talk about her, I would start crying for the fear of a negative response. I never got one, so it's much easier now to talk about her. I'm a proud birthmother.<br><b><br></b><b>How do you feel about your open adoption? </b></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I love my open adoption. I think it's great for anyone who can handle it, you just have to be positive and have trust in the parents you choose to place your baby with. I think it's great for the child, they have a few more parents to love them. They'll never have to think, "Why am I not wanted? Why didn't she want to keep me or ever visit me?" She will know I love her, because I will get to tell her. </span></div><div><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></b></div><div><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">What do you want people to know about Birthmoms? </b></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I want people to know that we LOVE our child. That we will love the child we've placed the same as the future children we raise.<br><br></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-sxQIi1WLpdU/WAgVyLw-joI/AAAAAAAAAkU/Lf3W8feCyEk/s640/blogger-image--1243812710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-sxQIi1WLpdU/WAgVyLw-joI/AAAAAAAAAkU/Lf3W8feCyEk/s640/blogger-image--1243812710.jpg"></font></a></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br><b>Are you proud of yourself for choosing to place Fin?</b><b><br></b><b><span style="font-weight: normal;">I am. I think she has the best life possible, it's only getting better from here on out. If she was with me, her life would be totally different. I know you made it so that she could have this surgery and the best therapies possible, and I know she'll walk independently because of you guys.</span></b><br><b><br></b><b>Do you plan to have more children?</b><br>I do plan to have more children, but I want to wait until I'm married and have stable income and home life. I want to give my kids the best life possible. I hope to have a loving husband, a roof over my head, career, and ultimately a family.<br><br></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">{<a href="https://www.facebook.com/GraceEdwardPhotog/info?ref=page_internal" target="_blank"> Grace Edward Photography }</a> </span></div></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-47370367769681277812016-10-29T11:06:00.001-07:002016-10-30T06:56:09.417-07:00SDR • Day 4Not a bad night. I woke up with a definite crick in my neck. But happy to have gotten rest! <div><br><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6pAHbJOip7E/WBX2zIDux8I/AAAAAAAAAsE/QNrz3Kzn-KY/s640/blogger-image-2025448016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6pAHbJOip7E/WBX2zIDux8I/AAAAAAAAAsE/QNrz3Kzn-KY/s640/blogger-image-2025448016.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Daddy is up and I'm going to get coffee and breakfast. She was talking up a storm and being hilarious. Very lively. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LLlsyergJuk/WBX0YDrrDTI/AAAAAAAAAr0/YUgKkat4bWM/s640/blogger-image-266913086.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LLlsyergJuk/WBX0YDrrDTI/AAAAAAAAAr0/YUgKkat4bWM/s640/blogger-image-266913086.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We went to our morning therapy at 10:00am. She was supposed to take oral Tylenol 30 minutes before therapy, but she refused. So we had to give her the <i>other</i> kind. Which was so easy, that's what kind I'm taking home, lol. I put some shorts on her, picked her up and we headed out! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LWFJA2ETRLg/WBX2xoX0clI/AAAAAAAAAsA/EvNjew6iwjc/s640/blogger-image-2124361427.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LWFJA2ETRLg/WBX2xoX0clI/AAAAAAAAAsA/EvNjew6iwjc/s640/blogger-image-2124361427.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">She loves elevator rides all the sudden! We arrived to morning therapy and our friend Charlotte and her Dad were there. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IC08lzN6geo/WBX75cGnkoI/AAAAAAAAAsY/pOoosvzdcWg/s640/blogger-image-1363780836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IC08lzN6geo/WBX75cGnkoI/AAAAAAAAAsY/pOoosvzdcWg/s640/blogger-image-1363780836.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So happy to be on the up and up with them! Morning therapy went great!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-X1BQXYVvHNI/WBX76K4Z-PI/AAAAAAAAAsc/rBTMDL5_Np4/s640/blogger-image-1719620199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-X1BQXYVvHNI/WBX76K4Z-PI/AAAAAAAAAsc/rBTMDL5_Np4/s640/blogger-image-1719620199.jpg"></a></div><br></div> I'm astonished by how flat her feet already are. She's going to need lots of stretching and a session of cerial casting, but we notice an immediate difference! It's crazy! She cried when we left, because all she wanted to do was play!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">After therapy, we went back up to the zen garden. Finley loved looking at all the little stone creatures they have around and the butterflies! It feels like we are just out exploring a park with our girl. Almost like nothing ever happened. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">They wanted her to rest in-between therapies, so we brought her back to the room and she took a little nap. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The nurse came in with the medicines and that's how we knew it was time for the 2nd therapy. Hooray! So we got her in the stroller and headed out for round 2. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-66y1O9F6MDs/WBX79OJaL5I/AAAAAAAAAsk/pmkzhdYOnSs/s640/blogger-image-1225892795.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-66y1O9F6MDs/WBX79OJaL5I/AAAAAAAAAsk/pmkzhdYOnSs/s640/blogger-image-1225892795.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This time she rode a tricycle for the first time ever, and loved every minute of it. The PT said that Fin was actually doing a lot of the work. She was even steering pretty well too. A little while into the 2nd session, the PT looks at us with a smile and says, "She's going to do really well." There it was again, that smile like <i>you guys are gonna have a little ball of energy on your hands</i>. I've seen this expression given among friends, but I've never been given it. It was great. I cannot wait.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pPxVFj9HV2M/WBX771s6bYI/AAAAAAAAAsg/eX4Oj9WNMpo/s640/blogger-image-68651828.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pPxVFj9HV2M/WBX771s6bYI/AAAAAAAAAsg/eX4Oj9WNMpo/s640/blogger-image-68651828.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">What a happy day. We left our 2nd session, both breathing iighs of relief. We took a little spin back up to the zen garden, and then went back to the room. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Finley was starting to smell and her hair was a ginormous rats nest that I was starting to get really scared of. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't actually scared, I just would catch a glance of it and think, "oh that's going to be a nightmare to Fin for me to brush it out." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Our new nurse on this shift was super fun and excellent at distracting Fin. I asked about bathing her and she said she had all these tricks, "let's do it!" She said all up beat! I'm so glad she was there, it definitely took 3 of us. Her hair definitely looked worse than it was, and it took her a minute to warm up to the bed bath. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">After we got all of the Mr. Tangles out of her hair, we got her dressed in normal clothes and a fresh diaper. She was literally back to her old self snd then some. An energy ball! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hejO1mmL4dM/WBX74UG-KKI/AAAAAAAAAsU/4I_-RLHlPOc/s640/blogger-image-2011751031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hejO1mmL4dM/WBX74UG-KKI/AAAAAAAAAsU/4I_-RLHlPOc/s640/blogger-image-2011751031.jpg"></a></div> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We played for awhile. She starting acting tired around 6pm (she had only taken that short morning nap) but, in true Finley Fashion she didn't fall asleep until around 10. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">She was gifted a balloon bouquet by YouCaring and I was astonished by her hand eye coordination with both of her hands. She would rotate hands and climb up the balloon string to bring it down to her face. She had never executed anything like this before. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Which made me emotional. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KdN1zn7bW18/WBX7-K6k1KI/AAAAAAAAAso/4Bke1cq0XZY/s640/blogger-image-2084776711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KdN1zn7bW18/WBX7-K6k1KI/AAAAAAAAAso/4Bke1cq0XZY/s640/blogger-image-2084776711.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I climbed into bed next to her, and we turned on cartoons for her to watch. I just laid there holding her hand daydreaming about the future and trying not to be anxious about the even nearer future, our RV drive accross the country. </div><br></div><br></div><br></div></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-88110592074287384592016-10-29T10:18:00.001-07:002016-10-29T11:03:20.466-07:00SDR • Day 3Oh Day 3. <div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-O4CIZFKM4xk/WBTZQbxwCuI/AAAAAAAAAqk/9dhWhSl28Xs/s640/blogger-image--959581499.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-O4CIZFKM4xk/WBTZQbxwCuI/AAAAAAAAAqk/9dhWhSl28Xs/s640/blogger-image--959581499.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>We were ready for you (or so we thought). Given the Nature of Day 1, we were confident the worst was behind us. </div><div><br></div><div>We woke up to Daddy arriving, per the usual. No coffee this time because it was 6am and the Starbucks cafe doesn't<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> open until like 8. Ludacris.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">This is the morning that Fin is to lose her catheter and epidural + IV fluids. (Yaaaas! Lol.) They gave us a really strong oral dose of pain reliever to relax her about 30 minutes before the Dr. Came by to remove the epidural. Great. I handed it to Josh since he seems to be better at getting her to take the oral stuff. He did. Success! </span></div><div><br></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">When the Dr. Showed up, she wasn't nervous. We log-rolled her over and he pulled it out, the morning nurse came in and pulled out the catheter. Not really a big production, but we distracted her like a mofo! Lol. All the toys and talking. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">She was scheduled for PT in the morning and afternoon. The morning PT was mostly just them showing me how to get her up off the bed and into the stroller, and vice versa. Nailed it first try. Basically I have to keep her spine as in tact as possible. So more of a scooping her up then picking her up. It's intimidating for sure. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xCc4JOH0MWM/WBTZQ1b7uwI/AAAAAAAAAqo/Mn1q6r_WB1w/s640/blogger-image-1372407697.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xCc4JOH0MWM/WBTZQ1b7uwI/AAAAAAAAAqo/Mn1q6r_WB1w/s640/blogger-image-1372407697.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HocJKgi3ois/WBTkZGrDw8I/AAAAAAAAArQ/E8A14TaFahs/s640/blogger-image-1629296004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HocJKgi3ois/WBTkZGrDw8I/AAAAAAAAArQ/E8A14TaFahs/s640/blogger-image-1629296004.jpg"></a></div><br></div></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">We got her in the stroller and we were breaking free! It was such a great feeling to have fresh air on our faces! We went straight to the zen garden. It was nice and chilly out there. Finley was in a pretty great mood, given the circumstances. We ran into our friends, and sweet Charlotte had the biggest smile on her face. Everyone is doing well. We talked about the last few days and both of our "horror stories" and laughed (nervously) that this day was supposed to be the worst. Welp. It was so far so good. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-CEPio1b-XCw/WBTkZ3BiCiI/AAAAAAAAArU/C987tY5gqaA/s640/blogger-image--1667089970.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-CEPio1b-XCw/WBTkZ3BiCiI/AAAAAAAAArU/C987tY5gqaA/s640/blogger-image--1667089970.jpg"></a></div><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">We were aloud to have her upright for about an hour, so we got back to the room and rested before afternoon therapy. I took this opportunity to run back to the hotel and get showered and cleaned up! </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Av6YzsdpTc0/WBTZ4Z2VhPI/AAAAAAAAAqs/l0sx3I3-J1s/s640/blogger-image--1773431219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Av6YzsdpTc0/WBTZ4Z2VhPI/AAAAAAAAAqs/l0sx3I3-J1s/s640/blogger-image--1773431219.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;">She was in the best mood still. Took a nice nap, and then we were up and ready for therapy. </div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;">Therapy went just as we anticipated, lots of tears. But she was so determined to play! So it was okay. </div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QU9PokQAVUc/WBTZ50IvgdI/AAAAAAAAAq0/hxyjPDlqz6s/s640/blogger-image--2115188472.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QU9PokQAVUc/WBTZ50IvgdI/AAAAAAAAAq0/hxyjPDlqz6s/s640/blogger-image--2115188472.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;">She seemed to be crying more out of anticipation or <i>fear</i> of pain, rather than actually from <i>being</i> in pain. We played for about an hour and got her to bear some weight on her legs, but she was very very weak. You can tell it took a lot out of her. </div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">We got her back to bed, and she took a long nap. </font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Uwjt_Dt-a9w/WBTZ5F9LdmI/AAAAAAAAAqw/z1CtKi_ronM/s640/blogger-image--619091785.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Uwjt_Dt-a9w/WBTZ5F9LdmI/AAAAAAAAAqw/z1CtKi_ronM/s640/blogger-image--619091785.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;">We just couldn't stop loving on her, we were so proud. It's possible we were subconsciously celebrating. If was 5pm and we'd survived with flying colors. </div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;">Our friends stopped by (they drove over FOUR HOURS) to surprise us! It was nice to see some familiar faces and catch up. They brought Fin lots of toys and she had a blast playing until she fell asleep. </div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;">Around 7pm I realized that Finley hadn't pooped yet. Since like Sunday, and it's Thursday. She was complaining of her tummy hurting, but I knew she would be afraid to push and put pressure on her back. She is no stranger to a little spit up while pushing poopoo out. </div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;">Around 7:15, she started projectile vomiting. Josh had gone to grab some water, and all I could do was yell, "Help!!!!" I had to log-roll Finley on her side to not cause her more pain and so she wouldn't choke on her puke. The log-rolling requires both hands. It is where you put one hand on the shoulder and one on the hip and roll the body, keeping the spine in tact and not allowing any skin to twist. Because I had both of my hands on her I couldn't reach the call button. They came running in and helped me control the vomiting into a bucket.</div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;">I had done a lot of research... But when you are sleep deprived, exhausted, and panicked- all that knowledge of what to expect goes out the window. I'd forgotten that vomiting is common post-SDR. My baby went from taking virtually no medication, to having a steady dose of lots of them via IV. That's bound to upset the tummy. </div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;">We got her all changed and cleaned up, which was <i>super fun. </i>Then Josh got in, I was making fun of myself for the way I was panicking and yelling, "Help!" Like I was in 'Life-Alert' commercial.</div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;">Just then, the pushing and puking happened again!! Josh and I both panicked. I don't know what it is about a bed-ridden child puking that causes sirens to go off in your head, but it does. We got her cleaned up again, and asked the nurses for a suppository for Fin. They administered it, little sigh of relief for us.</div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7sd8Y3E5M9M/WBTi1S-7yFI/AAAAAAAAArE/tBpxVdrxNpQ/s640/blogger-image--1171697591.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7sd8Y3E5M9M/WBTi1S-7yFI/AAAAAAAAArE/tBpxVdrxNpQ/s640/blogger-image--1171697591.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;">Finley started to push and cry. I felt like I was trying to coach her through labor. After what seemed like five hours, she finally pushed it out!! Holy smokes. </div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Mom and Auntie Pam were back from Dinner and brought us some yummy Mexican food. We told them about the last two vomits and that Finley just gave birth! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We all chatted as Josh and I ate. Some entertaining political conversation + some psychological deep conversation. Before we knew it, it was well past 9pm and we needed to get some rest. When Fin goes to sleep for the night, mama needs to go to sleep for the night. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Given the last two vomits, I asked Josh if he would stay with me. I slept on the bed and Josh slept in the chair next to the bed. Just as we started to doze off, Finley started dry-heaving and vomiting again! What was causing this? I didn't feel like she was pushing anymore. She might be dehydrated? She wasn't drinking much fluids? I don't know. So we asked for the IV fluids to get put back on. I just feel like undisturbed sleep is all she needs. It's just torturous. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We got smart this time, and after cleaning her up again, we laid some extra towels down. The nurses shift changed and just as the new nurse came on, Fin was throwing up again. Just a little bike this time. We gave her anti nausea and she got her midnight pain medication, and she drifted off to a peaceful sleep. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We are roomate free again, for now. Praying it stays that way. Not to be anti social, but just want this girl to sleep. And I would love some too. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div></div></div><br></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-85618405935957217992016-10-28T14:39:00.001-07:002016-10-29T09:58:08.534-07:00SDR • Day 2<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7OoSti24VeA/WBTU925PA7I/AAAAAAAAAqY/kvgUAuZpU5w/s640/blogger-image--1203639896.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7OoSti24VeA/WBTU925PA7I/AAAAAAAAAqY/kvgUAuZpU5w/s640/blogger-image--1203639896.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Today is a new day. We made it through the night seizure-free, so I'm feeling pretty good. Having roommates definitely makes for a more challenging night, but Fin seems to get a couple hours of sleep at a time, so I'm grateful for that. Rest is good, especially after yesterday. <div><br></div><div>Josh arrived with my Venti iced Skinny Vanilla Latte and relieved me. It was harder to leave, but I honestly really needed a shower. One of my newer friends, Meghan, offered to meet for coffee and I took her up on it. She coincidentally lives really close to the hospital so that was nice. Just needing to get a small sense of normal even if it's just for a short visit. </div><div><br></div><div>Josh said that he and Finley played all day. They tossed a light-up ball around for almost two hours, played dolls, and he pretended to hurt himself on everything and she just thought that was hysterical. All in all he kept her occupied for majority of the day and she was in great spirits. </div><div><br></div><div>I brought up lunch right after her nap. They changed all of her bandages and bedding which Josh chalked up to a "really fun" experience. He's really made me a proud wife, I feel so lucky to have him be my partner. I know, I'm all the Emo feels today. Lol. </div><div><br></div><div>My mom and her long time friend 'Auntie Pam' came into town a bit ago, so I walked to the hotel to catch them up on the night. Luckily, I only had good news to report. </div><div><br></div><div>I will say, if you or your child are preparing to undergo this surgery, this is a really hard thing to experience. Today, though... Not <i>sooooo</i> hard. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8XJ2Gut7f5M/WBTU9WvNpWI/AAAAAAAAAqU/GwJ5JjOKlLQ/s640/blogger-image-949391785.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8XJ2Gut7f5M/WBTU9WvNpWI/AAAAAAAAAqU/GwJ5JjOKlLQ/s640/blogger-image-949391785.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>We finally caught wind, our little friend Chatlotte is now on our floor and recovering well. She has had a rough couple days as well and we are just happy to hear that they are out of the ICU. </div><div><br></div><div>My mom and Pam brought us Dinner. </div><div><br></div><div>We ate and breathed a sigh of relief. </div><div><br></div><div>Josh kissed Fin and I goodnight. Finley was getting pretty sleepy so I decided to turn off the lights. Our roommates left. We are alone. </div><div><br></div><div>Peace and quiet. </div><div><br></div><div>Just as I'm closing my eyes, to get some rest, our evening nurse comes in. Lets just say she is not on the extremely quiet side. Fin was so frestrated and startled by the noises she yelled out, "I'm gonna be sick!" Then she projectile vomited!! We ordered her anti-nausea meds, cleaned her up, and then she finally just dozed off. I strongly suggested that Finley not be awakened until the 4am vitals. Mama bear came out, my poor baby has just had <b>enough</b>. Hopefully that nurse doesn't think I'm a biatch. But, just at my breaking point. So, obviously I'm <i>really</i> looking forward to tomorrow. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xKH88KiTOEQ/WBTU8kZyzKI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/08cQaFEIiwY/s640/blogger-image-463977133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xKH88KiTOEQ/WBTU8kZyzKI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/08cQaFEIiwY/s640/blogger-image-463977133.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-64086914806914848522016-10-27T10:30:00.001-07:002016-10-27T13:04:50.895-07:00SDR • Day 1For the record, I <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">really want to title this, "the day from hell". But they say that the worst day in the whole healing process is day 3. So, I guess we'll wait for our impending doom. </span><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lZdLIHxE8IY/WBJZN12TbZI/AAAAAAAAAp4/EfYAGqV6SqQ/s640/blogger-image--779109985.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lZdLIHxE8IY/WBJZN12TbZI/AAAAAAAAAp4/EfYAGqV6SqQ/s640/blogger-image--779109985.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Day 1 started fabulously. In spite of our neighbors snoring, I was able to get about 4 hours of solid rest and it seems like Finley got a pinch more than that. Daddy relieved me from my 'shift' and I was able to get out and get some fresh air. I desperately needed it, just to regain a sense of normalcy. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I went down and got a Starbucks and took a few laps around the hospital and Forrest park, down some cute streets- getting some footage on my GoPro for the little documentary I'm making of our SDR trip. Called some friends to tell them our crazy Dog Drama of yesterday.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">After a few hours, I went back in and checked on Josh and Fin. My husband told me how refreshed I looked and I really needed that walk. We sat and tried to distract a grumpy girl from wanting to "stand up"... She's really hard to keep down, even with the drugs. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Dr. Park made his entrance very quickly. Again, too fast for me to get documentation of it. (He's like the sneaky butler on Mr. Deeds!) </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">"How's she doing?" Dr. asked.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">"Great," josh said. "She really wants to get up." </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><i><br></i></span></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Dr. Park smiled, as if to say,<i> she's a strong one</i>. </font></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">He left swiftly. I was feeling super good, I wanted to go somewhere and praise God and call my mom! So I went up to the zen garden. I was sitting there thinking how ideal this whole procedure has been. I was smiling and updating my friends via text, when I got a text from Josh.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DV1xHSUjOYg/WBJZOdhxLuI/AAAAAAAAAp8/EKNQO_JzgFE/s640/blogger-image--460321880.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DV1xHSUjOYg/WBJZOdhxLuI/AAAAAAAAAp8/EKNQO_JzgFE/s640/blogger-image--460321880.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">A seizure?! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Right there sitting on that bench, I lost my marbles in the not-so-zen garden. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I could not get up to the room fast enough. We had <i>just</i> seen Dr. Park. She was <i>just</i> doing great. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">My stomach was in knots, I was forcing down the wonderful bagel I had just eaten on my outing. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I got back in the room, my Husband looked like he had seen a ghost. The Nurse gave me that look of pity, one I'm all too familiar with. Like she had news to tell me that she knew was gonna rip my heart out of my chest. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I asked Josh to tell me what happened. He recalled the events: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> <b>"We were just sitting here and she was talking to me and we were playing. All of a sudden her entire body started shaking, her eyes were rolling back, and she was making a painful moan... It lasted about a minute. The alarms were beeping and I had to yell for help! It was the scariest thing I've ever experienced. Our poor baby girls. That was awful. Her whole body was seizing."</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I was a wreck. I contribute most of my breakdown to lack of sleep and intense fear. To me this seizure signified more than an "unanticipated setback." It signified a long term new medical condition we will have to maintain. It signified another emotional roller coaster. It also freakishly resembled a similar situation with my dad and mother-in-law; both who passed away in hospitals following brain trauma. To me this was a global event, not isolated.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It felt earth-shattering. I know that sounds dramatic, but I'm just trying to help you understand the severity of emotions I was feeling.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I approached the curtain. Since we have a shared room, we keep our curtain closed majority of the time. I peeked around the corner and saw my baby resting. I guess seizures make you very sleepy afterward. She needed sufficient rest, so maybe it was a safety mechanism in her brain, a way for it to hit the "off switch" so to speak. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I had to get away. Isn't that awful? I felt terrible, but I needed fresh air again. I went down to the outside. Breathed deep, slow breaths. Then I went up to the Ronald Macdonald House room- I actually don't remember where I went after that, but I know at some point I was in the RMH because for some reason, I went "live" on Facebook in there. I was practically blacked out, probably due to being in shock. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-U_1KUZNfIOY/WBJZPdPKnwI/AAAAAAAAAqA/yxHaGCA9Aug/s640/blogger-image-1206205783.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-U_1KUZNfIOY/WBJZPdPKnwI/AAAAAAAAAqA/yxHaGCA9Aug/s640/blogger-image-1206205783.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Yeah... That really happened. You sort of just say goodbye to vanity when you are amidst such pain. I thought about deleting it, but I'm just gonna let it circulate. It is one thing to read someone's prayer request- it's quite another to see a mamabear in pain personally requesting one. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I balled for an hour. I felt like my thoughts were wild horses taking over my brain and I was trying to lasso them. (Again, just trying to paint the picture of what it was like.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">When my dad was in the hospital for FOUR WEEKS, there was an overwhelming sense of peace for me, majority of the time. Like God was giving me a warm hug, I can't explain it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This felt cold and like I was alone. This felt like abandonment. This was scary. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I returned to the zen garden to pray. I know we are to praise God through our trials. How on earth was I really supposed to worship amidst this type of turmoil. I have no idea if she's going to be okay, literally, no idea. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Saying Christian terminology on a keyboard and living them out are two VERY different things. But, I know I am a Christian, and everytime I get tested its scary to have to actually practice what I preach. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I got on my knees in the rain and cried. I listened to nothingness, thinking maybe a comforting thought will come to me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Nothing came to me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I tried really hard, like I was able to will it to happen. Like God is a genie, boy was I rubbing that lamp. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Still nothing. I knew I needed to <i>be still</i>. I walked around looking for "signs". Everywhere up in that zen garden is sad. It's all donated memorials "in memory" of someone. I thought, oh my gosh, are these the signs that I should be getting? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I took one lap around and thought, I'm outa here! No - thank you! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-9EsEgDJUl-s/WBJZNI5z5nI/AAAAAAAAAp0/AgWKZy5LDWM/s640/blogger-image-1742012886.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-9EsEgDJUl-s/WBJZNI5z5nI/AAAAAAAAAp0/AgWKZy5LDWM/s640/blogger-image-1742012886.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Now, this may sound silly to some of you reading this, and I honestly feel silly saying it, but if you experienced the moment with me, you would totally think I was being logical by "looking for signs." It's basically what you do when you don't know what to do and time HAS to pass somehow. You hate living those moments, I wish I could have just gone to sleep and woken up when everything was okay, but that wasn't an option. Because, what's sleep? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I felt bad for just abandoning my husband and daughter, so I returned to the room. I need to be a big girl and face this. I went in and sat with them, we cried and talked and cried some more. Not to alarm Fin at all, she was out of it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">They sent in for an EEG, and then cancelled it. It didn't surprise me. It actually made me feel better, I knew a test like that would just traumatize her more. </div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">She woke up and was in good spirits. Giggling and wanting to eat. Daddy makes her extra happy, so he fed her some Mac and Cheese. Who doesn't feel better eatin' some good ol Mac!?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We were later greeted by one of the Nuerologists on Dr. Park's team. He said that they feel like an isolated seizure is not a cause for concern and testing is not necessary yet. Since Finley has a history of infantile seizures (last one occurred when she was around 5 months old), the stress of going under anesthesia and the trauma to her body from surgery could have triggered it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I felt a sense of relief hearing the doctor say that. Typically I feel like it's always a "wait and see" type situation. I need to TRUST GOD and shut my mind up. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The time came for me to situate myself for "bed time" and for my wonderful husband to go get his rest. Finley was extra irritable and I had the feeling it was going to be a long night. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I prayed to God, "I know I don't feel you, but that doesn't mean you aren't here. Please just allow Finley to get rest." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I just cried some more and texted with my friends, my friends really are the best. They bring me comfort.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Before I knew it, she fell asleep. Not without some head caressing and chocolate, but it happened by the grace of God! I think I am going to turn off my phone and get some sleep. I texted my husband, "she's finally asleep. I'm going to rest too." Poor thing, I gave him a heart attack, he said. Praying for a seizure free night. Hoping day 2 is less eventful. </div><br></span></div><div><br></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-9546192361458074802016-10-26T15:31:00.001-07:002016-10-29T15:37:19.583-07:00Why we are fundraising for Finley<div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br>I've blogged the last couple days, but looking at how many new visitors we have, I wanted to compile our story into one updated Blog Post.</span><br>
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Here is Our story.<br>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Shortly after our first wedding anniversary we did what every couple tends to do and decided to try for baby. After a long 14 months of having no success we were mentally exhausted and turned to an Infertility Specialist. We learned that I have what's called Diminished Ovarian Reserve (a known side-effect of the serious acne medication, Accutane). They explained that natural conception would be unlikely and our risk of multiple miscarriages was high. We were crushed. Through all of our prayers, our hearts led us to Adoption. We met with an attorney a month later and thus began the lengthy process. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">After a short wait we received the call that we were chosen by an expecting couple. We were beyond elated to be chosen. We met with the couple and they told us we would become parents to a little girl in just a few short months. To say we were excited would be an understatement. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">A few weeks later, our birthmother showed signs of preterm labor. And our daughter was delivered by emergency c-section at 31 weeks gestation. She spent her first few hours of life fighting, alone in a NICU room hooked up to a ventilator. 3 pounds of pure heaven. I'll never forget the first time I laid my eyes on her, I was so scared and so in love, I just wanted to climb in her little incubator and tell her, "I'll always protect you and I promise to give you the world." And just like that all the pain of infertility was quickly forgotten. </span><br><div><br>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yLdJ_lNERQ0/V5j-DoACieI/AAAAAAAAAZg/sKd5qEyzigg/s640/blogger-image--369853332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yLdJ_lNERQ0/V5j-DoACieI/AAAAAAAAAZg/sKd5qEyzigg/s640/blogger-image--369853332.jpg"></a></span></div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">We chose the name Finley, which means "fair warrior." Couldn't be more fitting. We learned that she had suffered <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Bilateral Grade-3 Brain Bleeds </span>due to her prematurity. When we googled "Brain Bleeding" we saw that likely she would have Cerebral Palsy (CP). We were told she would be very delayed and might not ever walk. We chose to do everything in our power to make sure this wasn't the case. Early intervention is Key. We started therapy and Infant Stimulation when she was just 3 months old. We have done tri-weekly Occupational and Physical therapies, stretching programs, eye-surgery and patching, Botox injections, some medications, restricted diets, essential oils, supplements, infant massage, day bracing, night bracing, horse therapy, water therapy, kinesio-taping, and ballet. All while trying to let her just enjoy being a kid.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">Finley's official diagnosis is Spastic Diplegia Cerebral Palsy with overall Left-Side Weakness. Spastic diplegia, historically known as Little's Disease, is a form of CP that is a chronic neuromuscular condition of hypertonia and spasticity — manifested as an especially high and constant "tightness" or "stiffness" — in the muscles of the lower extremities of the human body, usually those of the legs, hips and pelvis. Spastic diplegia accounts for about 22% of all diagnoses of cerebral palsy, and together with spastic quadriplegia and spastic triplegia make up the broad classification spastic cerebral palsy, which accounts for 70% of all cerebral palsy diagnoses.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br>When recalling the day that Finley was fitted for a wheel chair, two thoughts come to mind. First; that was the sweetest little chair I've ever seen. Second; this is a tough pill to swallow that this new piece of equipment will be the next season of our life. We are not complaining, we know we are so blessed, but like every parent we long for endless opportunities for our girl. She wants to be standing all the time, I know this because she tells me so. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">My heart breaks a little every time she asks me to help her stand.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">If I could give her my legs, I would. As a parent there is nothing more devastating than watching your child suffer or struggle. She has to ask me to walk, to sit on something, to get off something, and often in the mornings she struggles to sit herself up. Spasticity is her demon. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">A few months ago, the magic happened. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">An answer to our prayers. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">We had many <em>many</em> signs leading us to this SDR surgery that is done in St. Louis. It is known as a <em style="box-sizing: border-box;">life changing</em> surgery for kids with Spastic CP. I've even seen it referred to as "the cure" for Finley's type of CP. Another girl said after the surgery it was like she had new legs, a lot of people are saying that actually. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">Her Pain Management Specialist told us at our last visit in February that he thinks Finley would be an excellent candidate for this procedure. Really? An opportunity for new legs for Finley?! <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">Her Spasticity is already high and can become tighter as she grows. Often people experience joints popping out of place due to their spasticity, as well as spasms and severe muscle aches, which are all extremely painful. There are medications, but a lifetime of strong pain meds and muscle relaxers filtering through her little liver isn't what we want for her. This surgery is a permanent spasticity reducer and is best performed at the young age of 3.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">Guess who just turned 3.</span><br>
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<div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">We went through the application process and received our surgery date. </span></div>
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I am now sitting in the hospital writing up this blog. Yesterday Finley underwent her life-changing surgery. We traveled across the country, which still sounds crazy to me.</div>
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<div> The Doctor said Finley's surgery went great, no complications. </div><div><br></div><div>Praise God. </div><div><br></div><div>The following afternoon, as my husband sat beside her, her little body had a grand mal seizure. It lasted about a minute and was the scariest thing he's ever experienced. We do not know what caused this seizure, or if she will have one again. </div><div><br></div><div>The doctor had also said his prognosis was that Finley would have independence to walk on her own, even exercise. Talk about a Miracle! </div><div><br></div><div>She has a history of infantile seizures, her last one occueed when she was just 5 months old, very scary. </div><div><br></div><div>Since she has gone almost 3 years seizure-free, I believed they were behind us. I pray they stay behind us and that this is an isolated occurrence. </div>
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<div> I'm mentally exhausted and broken. I'm doing my best to be strong, but we can't always be the broom... Somedays we are the pieces.</div>
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We chose YouCaring for our fundraiser because- they care. They are a smaller company and have been incredible with us. They have gone to great lengths to make us feel important and I just could not be more grateful for our YouCaring Family. A donation of any size would help us greatly as insurance did not cover this procedure. Our food, travel, and medical expenses when all is said and done, will certainly exceed $60k. We are still collecting donations, as well as shares + prayers. We are extremely grateful to those continuing to spread awareness via Finley's story. </div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Right now we are exercising our Faith.</span><br>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">To watch our story : </span><a href="https://youtu.be/Pujz69Uy6ZU">click here</a></div>
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To donate: <a href="https://www.youcaring.com/finley-582947">click here</a></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">To read more about the SDR surgery: </span><a href="http://www.stlouischildrens.org/our-services/center-cerebral-palsy-spasticity/about-selective-dorsal-rhizotomy-sdr">click here</a></div>
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Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-87236428523620004152016-10-26T08:48:00.001-07:002016-10-26T14:18:14.984-07:00SDR • Surgery Day<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-t4aOQTwdDZc/WBDLTszD_oI/AAAAAAAAApE/Sb5Hk62dSNw/s640/blogger-image--175716163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-t4aOQTwdDZc/WBDLTszD_oI/AAAAAAAAApE/Sb5Hk62dSNw/s640/blogger-image--175716163.jpg"></font></a></div></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I'm pretty sure I didn't sleep a wink. That 4am alarm crept up on me like the boogie man! My husband and I rolled quietly out of bed and freshened up (as fresh as one can get themselves at 4am on no sleep). As I was putting on my clothes, I kept thinking, "I'm gonna be in these for a couple days, probably." Every other hospital trip I've been on involves me in the same clothes for days. This is just such a Dejá Vu experience for my husband and I. All kinds of thoughts ran through my mind and before I knew it I had finished my cup of hotel coffee and we were ready to head out the door. I grabbed Fin from her deep sleep and carried her straight to the elevator. We walked through the brisk dark morning streets, ofcourse we arrived about 15 minutes early to the hospital. We are eager beavers I guess. We waited for the Hospital to open on a bench by the door. Fin was in great spirits and didn't ask for food or drink at all. Thank Goodness. </span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-GzciUfTvGbI/WBDP51kg3sI/AAAAAAAAApQ/58rPdvEuP3g/s640/blogger-image-1744474860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-GzciUfTvGbI/WBDP51kg3sI/AAAAAAAAApQ/58rPdvEuP3g/s640/blogger-image-1744474860.jpg"></font></a></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Once we got up to the surgery floor, I just sat and snuggled my girl until we were called back. The fact that she had no idea what was going on was bitter sweet.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DZ0aD3dxxqY/WA_zKiTP1rI/AAAAAAAAAow/NeYCyA0VETg/s640/blogger-image--1433175511.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DZ0aD3dxxqY/WA_zKiTP1rI/AAAAAAAAAow/NeYCyA0VETg/s640/blogger-image--1433175511.jpg"></font></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We were escorted back into the prep room and she was still doing well. We met with quite a few different Doctors of the surgery team and felt very comforted by all the details they offered. They walked us through everything. We got her dressed and she was ready to go! Just needed to give her the "relax medicine" to wheel her back into the OR. They like to have the kids very relaxed before they administer anything painful. It's really very considerate. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8RPLtM34pYc/WA_qTlj0A5I/AAAAAAAAAoE/VPTk7LHJJL4/s640/blogger-image-1875115407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8RPLtM34pYc/WA_qTlj0A5I/AAAAAAAAAoE/VPTk7LHJJL4/s640/blogger-image-1875115407.jpg"></font></a></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Naturally, Finley spit out half of that medication. I was a little freaked! She needed to relax! She usually goes into full-blown-panic-mode when she is in any type of medical facility. Even just watching mommy at the chiropractor sends her into hysterics! I voiced this to the staff and they said I could accompany her all the way to the OR. They literally explained everything I would see, how Finley would act once they put the gas mask on, and possible reactions she may have. All which were normal for anesthesia. (Obviously not normal to a mommy.) </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--hg_7yz8Ps4/WA_vde--ZWI/AAAAAAAAAoU/ai2B6005S_s/s640/blogger-image-672275104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--hg_7yz8Ps4/WA_vde--ZWI/AAAAAAAAAoU/ai2B6005S_s/s640/blogger-image-672275104.jpg"></font></a></div></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Once I was suited and booted, we rolled out. I was as "strong" as I could be. My husband was taking all kinds of pics and we were laughing, probably mostly nervous laughter. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As I held Finley's hand and we maneuvered her big bed through the halls, I kept telling myself, "I will not cry. I will not cry. I'm Meredith Grey. I'll pretend I'm Meredith Grey." I didn't want my baby to see her mommy scared, trust that I'm totally ok with crying otherwise. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As soon as that mask went on and her face started doing all the weird things, I just teared up. She didn't see me, she was already out. It was emotional. Like- all the emotions. That's all there is to it. Ofcourse, I apologized for crying (why do I do this to myself?) and made some awkward Grey's Anatomy joke with the nurses. They kindly chuckled. (I know it wasn't funny but I appreciate the sympathy.) They pulled off the mask and let me kiss her face then I was escorted back to the waiting room.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> I laughed to myself at how awkward I am and then tears just started streaming down my face. I hate leaving her, yet I know this is so great for her. It's hard. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But the humor of my random joke really helped me keep my ish together. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The 4 hours she was in there flew by, honestly. We just paced, prayed, and praised God on a sort of repeat-cycle. Everyone's texts and comments via social media were amazingly distracting and helped pass the time. Before we knew it we were greeted by the surgeon. He sort of popped in as if from no where! (Too quick for me to take a picture to document that moment.) However, I'll never forget it. He was wearing a smile on his face and said, "she did great, no complications." </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-31SrZa8cBKU/WA_veHkh98I/AAAAAAAAAoY/FkhsNBk4Jxg/s640/blogger-image--1929713453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-31SrZa8cBKU/WA_veHkh98I/AAAAAAAAAoY/FkhsNBk4Jxg/s640/blogger-image--1929713453.jpg"></font></a></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Recovery.. Ugh. Is anyone awesome at coming out of surgery? She was predictably dazed and a little weepy. She had a couple coughing fits that made my heart race thinking, "She's gonna puke! Oh no! Then she's gonna choke on her puke!" I remained calm, and we made it through. She continued to progress so we were moved up to the room she is to reside in until we are discharged. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_afFn2dtg9c/WA_vegUnptI/AAAAAAAAAoc/JGi-1hxAIgY/s640/blogger-image--185525599.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_afFn2dtg9c/WA_vegUnptI/AAAAAAAAAoc/JGi-1hxAIgY/s640/blogger-image--185525599.jpg"></font></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We covered her sweet face in smooches! She needs to lay and rest on her back for the next three days. The nurses lifted her legs and showed us how the spasticity was gone. We couldn't believe it. It doesn't seem real, her legs are like jello. Just as we were starting to relax from the high we were on... The doorbell rang. (Literally our Ring App alerted us to someone at our front door.) </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My husband spoke with the man in uniform about our dogs. They had gotten out and were being held by animal control. Okay, I <i>miiiiiiight </i>be a day or two late on their licensing paperwork, that's a long story- I truly did send it in though! It just showed up as "pending" in their system. So dumb. Either way, I went into an entirely new type of panic-mode arranging their transportation details and where they will now be staying, because obviously they can escape where they were. Anywho- just another super fun detail from today I thought I'd share. My nerves are pretty much shot. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3jNoIkZjA7Y/WA_vfzJkjgI/AAAAAAAAAok/v626fHLP558/s640/blogger-image-1089313725.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3jNoIkZjA7Y/WA_vfzJkjgI/AAAAAAAAAok/v626fHLP558/s640/blogger-image-1089313725.jpg"></font></a></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I'm exhausted and feel like I'm dreaming- like... </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Am I awake? </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Am I asleep? </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Am I a zombie? </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">What day is it? </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">What time is it?? </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> It's 7pm. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Finley was finally able to fall asleep about an hour ago. She was itchy from the meds, so they gave some meds for the itching. So, now I lay on two chairs pushed together and I'm wondering what's going on with our sweet friend, Charlotte. She had the procedure after Fin and we are supposed to be sharing a room. I ran into her Dad in the cafeteria and he said they were in the PICU. Praying for them, and praying for a peaceful night for all. We sent Daddy back to the hotel to rest so he can take over in the morning and Mommy can go rest. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Prayers that I can rest my mind, even just for an hour or two tonight.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-JHv0ui9DVd4/WA_vfbGi5xI/AAAAAAAAAog/2X7luj3WvLs/s640/blogger-image--1066058800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-JHv0ui9DVd4/WA_vfbGi5xI/AAAAAAAAAog/2X7luj3WvLs/s640/blogger-image--1066058800.jpg"></font></a></div><br></div></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-76576054664163196622016-10-25T07:19:00.001-07:002016-10-29T10:57:08.991-07:00SDR • Pre-OpWe woke up feeling very well rested! We kept Fin on her normal routine, a little iPad time with her favorite fiber breakfast bar, which she fondly refers to as a "chocolate brown bar". My husband and I chit-chatted about our anxiousness over tomorrow and what we may get done today. <div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-f2WHwbgJLAs/WA9pwL3y7bI/AAAAAAAAAnM/m3sY3GIDPiY/s640/blogger-image--1714195868.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-f2WHwbgJLAs/WA9pwL3y7bI/AAAAAAAAAnM/m3sY3GIDPiY/s640/blogger-image--1714195868.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We took it easy because our pre-op was scheduled for noon. We weren't sure how long it was going to take, so we got dressed and headed downstairs for the complimentary breakfast. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-rCux4b2gNJI/WA9p0CmRsDI/AAAAAAAAAng/vJC0i04Cxsw/s640/blogger-image-1704875263.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-rCux4b2gNJI/WA9p0CmRsDI/AAAAAAAAAng/vJC0i04Cxsw/s640/blogger-image-1704875263.jpg"></a></div>She loves putting the key in the elevator. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Here is the yummy breakfast we had! I never take food pics, but I felt like documenting this one. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-j6rt20_-1xA/WA9px92H3kI/AAAAAAAAAnU/LCBwV0lmQBw/s640/blogger-image-2035376966.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-j6rt20_-1xA/WA9px92H3kI/AAAAAAAAAnU/LCBwV0lmQBw/s640/blogger-image-2035376966.jpg"></a></div></div>I'm a nervous eater, so.. Yeah. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We were running way ahead of schedule, so we decided to walk around and enjoy the cold fallish weather. This town is simply gorgeous. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-JgIVICz_i0k/WA9pypB2PlI/AAAAAAAAAnY/OMHprDUqC_A/s640/blogger-image-1007307485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-JgIVICz_i0k/WA9pypB2PlI/AAAAAAAAAnY/OMHprDUqC_A/s640/blogger-image-1007307485.jpg"></a></div>We had some fun just being our silly selves and checking out the real estate.. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-uOpIF3kurEk/WA9ptVAJw9I/AAAAAAAAAm8/ueIfvzYfmFo/s640/blogger-image--616694040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-uOpIF3kurEk/WA9ptVAJw9I/AAAAAAAAAm8/ueIfvzYfmFo/s640/blogger-image--616694040.jpg"></a></div>{Ofcourse we are wearing our Mommy and me Subsidy Shades! We love ordering from them because they help fund a different families' adoption each month. www.subshades.com } </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0c_Wh27JGPc/WA9p2QwHSXI/AAAAAAAAAns/Cm3ab5oSG0k/s640/blogger-image--147231500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0c_Wh27JGPc/WA9p2QwHSXI/AAAAAAAAAns/Cm3ab5oSG0k/s640/blogger-image--147231500.jpg"></a></div>We arrived at the hospital. Checked in and hung out with some other friendly fam's from all over the world! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tqjI9AmUEMQ/WA9p0-VidjI/AAAAAAAAAnk/WjhNfCAj4t4/s640/blogger-image-335181496.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tqjI9AmUEMQ/WA9p0-VidjI/AAAAAAAAAnk/WjhNfCAj4t4/s640/blogger-image-335181496.jpg"></a></div></div>This is Cam + Charlotte they are from the UK! Charlotte is having her surgery tomorrow right after Fin. It was so nice to talk with another mama who is literally in the exact shoes. We discussed our anxiousness and what the exciting future holds. We are waiting to watch a video and then finally get to meet Dr. Park. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-2ybCFRuj3KU/WA9pvdE5epI/AAAAAAAAAnI/0ORurxaq8pM/s640/blogger-image--457973863.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-2ybCFRuj3KU/WA9pvdE5epI/AAAAAAAAAnI/0ORurxaq8pM/s640/blogger-image--457973863.jpg"></a></div>Things get a little silly in these waiting rooms. You see that little blue band on the far left hanging over the arm chair? That kept us busy for almost 40 minutes. </div><div>We went into the first room and watched a video. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5MOTRsICKaQ/WA9pzQjKogI/AAAAAAAAAnc/KhkyyuZRrD0/s640/blogger-image--1574286023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5MOTRsICKaQ/WA9pzQjKogI/AAAAAAAAAnc/KhkyyuZRrD0/s640/blogger-image--1574286023.jpg"></a></div>Then we went into the next room and spoke with Deanna. Was so nice to finally meet her as well! Then we were escorted into THE ROOM. The room where we got to meet Dr. Park. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1dJhtydPOtk/WA9pw0kc-NI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/rP3gSyxW9vs/s640/blogger-image-1209222419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1dJhtydPOtk/WA9pw0kc-NI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/rP3gSyxW9vs/s640/blogger-image-1209222419.jpg"></a></div></div><div>He observed and assessed Finley. Then he made his final prognosis for her post-operation. We are so grateful for him. Fin rarely takes to people so quickly and you can tell he's just the sweetest man. She was so content on his lap after just meeting him. </div><div><br></div><div>After our time with Dr. Park, we were then escorted to Physical Therapy. Josh took Fin and I headed to do check in & preliminary <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">paperwork up at "same day surgery" floor. </span></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-bXKcSAe3DY4/WA9pulj2tTI/AAAAAAAAAnE/276FwseStmY/s640/blogger-image-913873311.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-bXKcSAe3DY4/WA9pulj2tTI/AAAAAAAAAnE/276FwseStmY/s640/blogger-image-913873311.jpg"></a></div>This girl rocked her session!! They took a video and assessed Finley. She took to her 'teacher' and loved her time with her. She loved these crutches and she really wanted to take them home with us. Lol. She said "they're pink" with the biggest smile. </div><div><br></div><div>We concluded the Pre-Op and just in time for Dinner. We walked around the adorable town and saw a really yummy restaurant, so we went in. It's called the Wild Flower. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Yj07Bk4lUkE/WA9p1loQKcI/AAAAAAAAAno/GVyH0yUl9Ms/s640/blogger-image--984535883.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Yj07Bk4lUkE/WA9p1loQKcI/AAAAAAAAAno/GVyH0yUl9Ms/s640/blogger-image--984535883.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ATtCjC8ndCM/WA9pr-G-Y9I/AAAAAAAAAm0/IUWQhwXJaBY/s640/blogger-image-1661348771.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ATtCjC8ndCM/WA9pr-G-Y9I/AAAAAAAAAm0/IUWQhwXJaBY/s640/blogger-image-1661348771.jpg"></a></div>Umm let me just tell you they had THE MOST amazing grilled cheese EVER!!! Highly recommend. I had the smoked BBQ salad and Josh had the Turkey Burger. Both very good. Fin discovered salt and pepper "sparkles" and had a ball pouring little bits at a time on a plate. Lol- she was playing chef without being wasteful. After dinner we passed by Hot Box Cookies, we <i>had</i> to go in.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ngCKjlM2W_A/WA9pslY8NnI/AAAAAAAAAm4/m9ztnR26h68/s640/blogger-image--1957302552.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ngCKjlM2W_A/WA9pslY8NnI/AAAAAAAAAm4/m9ztnR26h68/s640/blogger-image--1957302552.jpg"></a></div> Seriously so amazing!! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We took a little stroll around the town some more, and just felt so grateful and we fantasized about what it will be like when Finley can walk independently. It's like our minds block it or something, we just can't even fathom. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We retired to our hotel room for the night, we bathed Fin and I braided her hair while she face-timed with her favorite person, her Kiki (nanny). She sat and held both of our hands and ate a little bit more dinner around 8pm. She's not aloud any food after midnight or any liquids after 4am, so I was trying to fill her up! Afterwards, she fell asleep rather quickly. I packed the hospital bag, picked up the room, laid out outfits, and loaded the stroller for our 5am exit. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-js_9Jrbfrdw/WA9ptwn33tI/AAAAAAAAAnA/wY15p16mNVc/s640/blogger-image--1011362885.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-js_9Jrbfrdw/WA9ptwn33tI/AAAAAAAAAnA/wY15p16mNVc/s640/blogger-image--1011362885.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I am hoping to sleep at some point. My mind is all over the place. I keep picturing my Dad and my Mother-in-law, both tragic hospital deaths in our family. And recently. My Dad 4 years ago and my Mother-in-law just this past January. Miss them so much. Looking forward to getting through the hospital one day at a time. </div><br></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-55457256942773998002016-10-24T07:13:00.001-07:002016-10-24T07:19:27.883-07:00Our Adventure Day in STLOAs soon as we posted that we were coming to STL, the sweetest photographer mama reached out and said she'd love to photograph us in the city. I booked our flight with a couple days to spare, just in case of a cancelled flight or something like that. <div><br><div><br></div><div>So, naturally, we began our STL trip with just that, an intimate session with Alex of Shutter Darling Photography, in this gorgeous city. My husband was absolutely <i>thrilled</i>! We were meeting her in the Lobby. We arrived down stairs and looked around. I was greeted by a gal, "Christina?" I said, "Hi!" Gave her a big hug and introduced her to josh as our photographer. She had a heavy accent and said her crew was just up the way. As we neared I saw a little girl in an adaptive wheelchair and I immediately realized this wasn't the photographer, (embarrassing) this was a fellow CP mamabear. We talked surgery and cried a little, and it brought me back to the reality of why we are here (I keep trying to forget). Her daughter, Charlotte, is getting her surgery the same day as Fin. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-zDKRkcb59Co/WA4Yb3PUUoI/AAAAAAAAAmg/vmhoFM0mptg/s640/blogger-image-268936215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-zDKRkcb59Co/WA4Yb3PUUoI/AAAAAAAAAmg/vmhoFM0mptg/s640/blogger-image-268936215.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Then I got a text from Alex saying she was outside, and we headed out! Photographers always remind me that husbands all hate taking pictures, mine was not out of the ordinary. Lol. He actually didn't mind it so much, this time. I think because of the reason we are here. This trip just has a different feel to it. <div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ncTT-x08aHo/WA4W2-9jM0I/AAAAAAAAAlw/zSg-_4j9v2I/s640/blogger-image-1376219322.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ncTT-x08aHo/WA4W2-9jM0I/AAAAAAAAAlw/zSg-_4j9v2I/s640/blogger-image-1376219322.jpg"></a></div></div><div>We rapped up the session before breakfast was over and headed out into the city. We traveled to Forest Park and just soaked in all the natural beauty around us. Josh is obsessed with Nature Parks so this was a great way to start the day. </div><div>We had our coffee in hand and sweet girl all cozy in her stroller and we were soaking in this time. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-T8IXeBxC70o/WA4W5IKI2MI/AAAAAAAAAmA/NWJSqTdS82w/s640/blogger-image-35879808.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-T8IXeBxC70o/WA4W5IKI2MI/AAAAAAAAAmA/NWJSqTdS82w/s640/blogger-image-35879808.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lioTsjgbqpg/WA4YbDPmAOI/AAAAAAAAAmc/rK8MGCbJRWc/s640/blogger-image--281708506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lioTsjgbqpg/WA4YbDPmAOI/AAAAAAAAAmc/rK8MGCbJRWc/s640/blogger-image--281708506.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">We made our way to the Zoo. Which was free- unbelievable for one of the top zoo's in the country. Fin was super excited to point out all the "horses" and pumpkins. </span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QNnkXBHMF5o/WA4W3W-ahqI/AAAAAAAAAl0/bicItGH5v8k/s640/blogger-image--1422113933.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QNnkXBHMF5o/WA4W3W-ahqI/AAAAAAAAAl0/bicItGH5v8k/s640/blogger-image--1422113933.jpg"></a></div></div><div>She got a little scared by the monkeys and said her famous, "Mommy, I want to hold you." So I put her in my carrier. We had probably walked close to 4 miles already, and I don't regularly exercise.. But I was feeling great and wore her around the rest of the park until we saw the train. The weather was a crisp 68* and nice and warm in the sun. A truly gorgeous day! </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-TMbZVQjc6hw/WA4W4iZV0RI/AAAAAAAAAl8/CuECO9t2A78/s640/blogger-image-460028479.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-TMbZVQjc6hw/WA4W4iZV0RI/AAAAAAAAAl8/CuECO9t2A78/s640/blogger-image-460028479.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4_gjQTm8zvY/WA4W4C5-FRI/AAAAAAAAAl4/CDwiipGKcnw/s640/blogger-image-1168524963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4_gjQTm8zvY/WA4W4C5-FRI/AAAAAAAAAl4/CDwiipGKcnw/s640/blogger-image-1168524963.jpg"></a></div></div><div>We rode the train around a few times, which Fin just loved!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0VDK1UEYXVA/WA4W6ZoO3EI/AAAAAAAAAmI/En9Et3JPNV4/s640/blogger-image-1647409175.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0VDK1UEYXVA/WA4W6ZoO3EI/AAAAAAAAAmI/En9Et3JPNV4/s640/blogger-image-1647409175.jpg"></a></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pC2zEWtDimQ/WA4W64H7jvI/AAAAAAAAAmM/WFKrNQym1vo/s640/blogger-image--792669677.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pC2zEWtDimQ/WA4W64H7jvI/AAAAAAAAAmM/WFKrNQym1vo/s640/blogger-image--792669677.jpg"></a></div></div><div>We grabbed a bite and she requested a "cheeseburger" - we gotta keep her calorie count up, so that's what we got. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iEksN-GIv90/WA4W7SqF8TI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/WnpkrUO0ptE/s640/blogger-image--700916482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iEksN-GIv90/WA4W7SqF8TI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/WnpkrUO0ptE/s640/blogger-image--700916482.jpg"></a></div></div><div>After the zoo, we made a little trip to the grocery store, got stuff for dinner and some essentials. We returned back to our room and just got all situated for the next couple days. Papers, outfits, that sort of thing. Maybe it was my anxiousness but I'm an organizing machine tonight lol.</div><div><br></div><div>I know after her surgery this hotel won't feel the same to me, my heart will be over in the hospital room with her and it will be all consuming. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NUPugZ5FwAM/WA4W5iaS4RI/AAAAAAAAAmE/HReCgia8crQ/s640/blogger-image--859687485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NUPugZ5FwAM/WA4W5iaS4RI/AAAAAAAAAmE/HReCgia8crQ/s640/blogger-image--859687485.jpg"></a></div></div></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">She fell asleep right after her bath, we tuckered her out on this adventurous day! And Daddy and I are watching a documentary "The Grizzly Man" on Netflix. Basically, he lives among the bears and is tragically killed by the bears (Josh's pick). This should help me sleep great. Lol. </span></div><div><br></div><div><br></div></div></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-38947885410139705322016-10-21T16:08:00.001-07:002016-10-26T15:12:34.704-07:00Departure to St. Louis It's here. It's really happening.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">7 months ago this all just sounded like a crazy hypothetical: traveling accross the country so Finley can undergo a life changing surgery performed by a world renowned Neurosurgeon. It still sounds like it's out of a movie to me!</span></div>
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I'm in awe of how all this went down: </div>
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I remember it like it was yesterday, I was sitting in Bible study and it was my turn to say my request. I had never thought to ask God for something grandiose. My usual prayer requests were of a more realistic nature. You know, trying to help make the work easier for God. (Major eye roll at myself, lol.) I looked around at my friends holding pens waiting to write my request for the week... I was crying out of "special needs mother" hopelessness and I couldn't quite come up with the right words. I have this odd vice of trying to 'simplify things' and in turn I often just make everything way more complicated. I mumbled out some random words, and then I just quickly blurted out, " I don't know, I guess. I want to pray for a miracle for Finley. Yeah that's it, a Miracle for Finley."<br />
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A few weeks later, our pain management specialist said he thought Finley would be an excellent candidate for the Selective Dorsal Rhizotomy in St. Louis. Up until this point I had been repeatedly discouraged + told not to pursue the SDR. They would wave their hand in dismissal as if to say, "they don't do that procedure anymore." So to hear a Doctor say that he thinks it's an excellent idea for Fin was very very exciting to this mama. </div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Selective dorsal rhizotomy is a surgical procedure performed on the lower spinal cord. The nerves are separated then identified via an electrical stimulation. Following identification, certain sensory nerve fibers in the spinal cord are cut. The nerves that lead to too much muscle tone, which is a condition of cerebral palsy and spasticity, are then cut. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">You have no idea what it's like to get such mixed signals from specialists, but it's common in the world of special needs parents. This was music to my ears! There is hope! I know this is exactly what Finley needed, I could feel it with everything in me.</span></div>
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Little did I know that God was just getting started. </div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I was doing my biblestudy friend's hair, Brittany, and she had this elaborate Dancing Dare idea to fundraise for the surgery. We were pretty much just brainstorming, but we got eachother going! The following week I got a call from the hospital saying the Neursurgeon officially approved our application and accepted Finley as a candidate. Talk about an answered prayer! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">On July 11 we launched the Dare to Dance Challenge. Britt and I had no idea what would come of it, but we had big dreams. We also had a lot of fun. You guys have no idea how hard this girl worked, she would stay up until all hours of the night editing dance videos, spent countless hours working away from her family during the day cold calling business to get them to participate, hosting events, strategizing... I'll never be able to thank her enough, we simply could not have done it without her. She knows what an integral part of this entire project she is. </span></div>
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The Challenge spread so fast! I found myself stunned by each donation that came in... To date we've had roughly 1,000 different people donate to our crowdfund through Youcaring. We raised $60,000 in less than 2 months. Which fully funded our trip and all surgery expenses. Every email notification would make my eyes well up and my heart so overjoyed. I won't ever be able to thank all of you for donating and for sharing our youcaring page. It's because of all of you that our dream is able to be a reality. </div>
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Talk about a MIRACLE! I know it sounds hokey. I'm not saying God is a genie. I'm just merely stating that,<b> in-fact</b> this was a <b>real</b> prayer I had. And I have 4 witnesses and dated notes to prove it. How else can you explain everything? Think about it. </div>
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I'm sitting here at the airport, and I'm anxious. I keep hearing the Lord's words "Be still" - "Be anxious about nothing" I'm confident that this was all part of God's plan for Finley. And that this is just a chapter of her life's story. </div>
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I<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"> want to thank you all for joining in and supporting us through the ups and downs. I don't know what the future holds, but I know it ain't holding us down! Here we come, St. Louis! </span></div>
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We are still fundraising for Post-Op Therapy + Care: </div>
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Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-29655831528899541022016-09-19T08:23:00.003-07:002016-09-19T10:19:10.931-07:00Happily Ever After Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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When we got married, my maid of honor concluded her toast with, "Now let's raise our glass and cheers to love laughter and happily ever after." While I thought our life would surely be that of a fairy tale, I was wrong. In our first few years of marriage; my husband survived a horrific brown recluse spider bite, my father was tragically killed, and devastatingly we received the news of infertility. </div>
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Thank the Lord our adoption process was on the brighter side! We were matched pretty quick and then graced with Baby Finley's presence 9 weeks early. We spent a few <i>very stressful</i> weeks in the hospital awaiting our legal gaurdianship and we spent many sleepless nights praying about our preemie and the health of her future. </div>
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When she got to come home, it was as though she just filled up our home with joy <i>via</i> her sweet spirit! It was indescribable. I get tears just thinking about how amazing it was. </div>
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Then, a year later, on September 19, 2014 we were getting ready for what we anticipated to be a simple court hearing. Since we'd considered ourselves Finley's parents from day 1, we expected to just sign some papers and be on our way. Nothing could have prepared us for the impact of this process. Our friend, Brian Perry (Perryfield Films), had witnessed a finalization court hearing before with the adoption of his neice and nephews, so he understood what was about to go down. I'm so glad he was there to capture it and that our sweet photographer friend, Rebecca Ryan, offered to come take beautiful pictures to document it!<br>
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I will forever cherish them.</div>
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Someone once told me, "When our lives look exactly like we imagined, we’re probably not following God’s will, but our own instead." This road the Lord has us on is not what I thought I’d have chosen, but here we are: Parents to one very special little lady. </div>
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We are the luckiest. </div>
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I chose the use the popular term "Happily Ever After Day" to give this date extra special meaning. It was the day that my husband and I signed our first birth certificate. We became legally parents to a child. <i>Our</i> child.</div>
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I'll never forget this day, it's one of the fondest memories I have. As always I must say thank you to Finley's birth parents for choosing life and then choosing to <b>place</b> that life with us. Adoption is an incredible thing! Today was the day we got to literally feel what it means to live "happily ever after"- thanks to two amazing people. </div>
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Here's the link to watch our Adoption Video, you may want to grab a tissue! </div>
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<div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><a href="http://vimeo.com/m/110556705" target="_blank" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000">Click here to watch video</font></a></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">(You'll hear a beautiful guitar in the background of our video. Our friend Brian, wrote that for his son that passed away at birth. It means so much to us that he used this song for our video. You can read more about their journey at www.carryingcolin.com) </span></div>
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Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-77808665100978408002016-09-13T07:56:00.001-07:002016-10-24T19:26:57.007-07:00Newport Beach FD Dares to Dance!<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--d9UZcSmaGU/V9gVUrAAs2I/AAAAAAAAAhE/21j2sjJtQDk/s640/blogger-image--1559439919.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--d9UZcSmaGU/V9gVUrAAs2I/AAAAAAAAAhE/21j2sjJtQDk/s640/blogger-image--1559439919.jpg"></a></div><br></div>A few weeks back an old friend asked me if Fifi and I would be interested in making an appearance in the Newport Beach Fire Department's Dare to Dance Challenge Video. (Boy, say that 10x fast!)<div><br></div><div>I thought to myself, "I really want Finley's Birthmom to get to experience this." Afterall, Leelee would text me often and say how amazing every single video she saw was. I knew I wanted her there, and luckily the NBFD was very accepting of my request! You may be thinking, ofcourse they were accepting.. No- not always the case. I recently told a <newer> friend that I wanted to have Leelee join in at an upcoming event<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> and she said, "Really, why?!" Like why would I want to include her in an event I didn't <i>have</i> to. I technically never <i>have</i> to, I <i>get</i> to. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> I'm aware that our open adoption can confuse people or make them uncomfortable. And that's okay. I guess it's just like everything else that's not perceived as 'normal' and some people just don't understand it. You see, it's my job as an advocate and as a member of an adoption triad- to do my best to make it<i> feel normal</i> to people. </span></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Part of why Open Adoption is so amazing is that I get to share my thankfulness constantly. The woman that chose to give life to her child and then chose to place that life in my hands gets to see how grateful and in love, with said child, we are. She gets to experience parts of <b>our</b> daughter's life & Finley will get to experience parts of her birthmother- something that wouldn't happen if it were a closed adoption. </div><div><br></div><div>This doesn't mean either of us are extra "strong" or "selfless" - it just means we cumulatively want to continue to do the best for Finley. </div><div><br></div><div>So, there's my two cents on that! Haha! #endlecture - I'm so excited to share this video! <a href="https://vimeo.com/182461277" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">https://vimeo.com/182461277</a></div><div><br></div><div>Thank you so much to everyone who came out to participate in the video and everyone who had a hand in creating it! </div><div>We love it! </div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-57730226011102083512016-09-07T13:37:00.001-07:002016-10-08T06:41:30.530-07:00The Happy Hour Podcast<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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Last week I had the pleasure of chatting with Jamie on her Podcast,<i> The Happy Hour</i>. I'm still getting used to doing interviews, they always make me so nervous! I never want to say the wrong thing... but I'm human, it's a certainty at some point that i will say the wrong thing. I was super comfortable chatting with Jamie, it definitely felt like we had known each other for years! She's a published Christian Author, which is intimidating! BUT she's also a wife, mother, and fellow adoptive mama and she made the interview really fun. She was cracking me up! </div>
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We discuss the challenges of special needs parenting, adoption, exercising patience, and the tragic loss of my father. I haven't really spoken too much publicly about my Dad, so it got emotional. I was pretty much bawling uncontrollably. It was hard to listen to that part of the podcast- but ultimately thats all part of my story, and its what got me to where I am today. </div>
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It's about an hour long. Our interview was pretty early in the morning for me- so I was struggling to find some words -lol- bear with me, folks! </div>
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Are there things you would like to know? I would love your feedback: fifiandmo@gmail.com</div>
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Hope you enjoy Happy Hour #105!</div>
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xo,</div>
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Christina </div>
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To hear the Podcast <a href="http://www.jamieivey.com/itunes">click here</a> </div>
Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-1434589643941356082016-08-31T21:26:00.001-07:002016-10-19T17:46:54.095-07:00STEPtember<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tzR1aQ0rvzM/V8et8sPqWPI/AAAAAAAAAgI/B9ShTYMvdc0/s640/blogger-image--1094664006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tzR1aQ0rvzM/V8et8sPqWPI/AAAAAAAAAgI/B9ShTYMvdc0/s640/blogger-image--1094664006.jpg"></a></div></div></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">H o w d y y' a l l !</font></div><div><br></div><div>From September 1st to September 28th, I will be "stepping up" to the challenge for STEPtember. I will complete 10,000 steps a day or the exercise equivalent -there’s 70+ exercise options for me to choose from - to raise vital funds for children and adults living with cerebral palsy and other disabilities.</div><div><br></div><div>The average office worker only takes about 3,000 steps per day - which is not enough to keep us as healthy and active as we should be. Although 10,000 “steps” a day is going to be quite a challenge for me, I know every “step” will be made easier with the support of friends and family like you and knowing that it’s all for such a great cause.</div><div><br></div><div>Cerebral palsy is the most common motor disability in childhood. About 1 in 323 children have been identified with CP. And all those children grow up to be adults with CP.</div><div><br></div><div>So please help empower children and adults with cerebral palsy and other disabilities to live a life without limits by sponsoring me. (<a href="https://event.steptember.us/donate/onbehalfof?id=d8382915-601f-4659-ac4d-e29b2c801581" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">https://event.steptember.us/donate/onbehalfof?id=d8382915-601f-4659-ac4d-e29b2c801581</a><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">)</span></div><div><br></div><div>Your support would mean so much not only to me but also to all of the children and adults with disabilities that United Cerebral Palsy serves.</div><div><br></div><div>For example,</div><div>•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>$28 could provide community support services to families of individuals with disabilities.</div><div>•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>$55 could provide one day of recreational activities for an adult with an intellectual/developmental disability.</div><div>•<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>$105 could pay for a piece of assistive technology to help clients communicate.</div><div><br></div><div>Together we really can make a difference.</div><div><br></div><div>Please help make every "step" I take count this STEPtember. Any amount you contribute (<a href="https://event.steptember.us/donate/onbehalfof?id=d8382915-601f-4659-ac4d-e29b2c801581">https://event.steptember.us/donate/onbehalfof?id=d8382915-601f-4659-ac4d-e29b2c801581</a>) would be enormously appreciated.</div><div><br></div><div>Thanks for your support,</div><div>Christina + Finley</div><div><br></div><div>P.S. You'll also receive an automated receipt for your tax-deductible donation.</div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-57013165561654786212016-08-24T10:12:00.001-07:002016-10-08T06:43:09.829-07:00Our Milestone Diary<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-c9cbyESZjnk/V8UjRtJwynI/AAAAAAAAAfs/RbEtluPKFeI/s640/blogger-image--745208455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-c9cbyESZjnk/V8UjRtJwynI/AAAAAAAAAfs/RbEtluPKFeI/s640/blogger-image--745208455.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div></div></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> I knew Finley was delayed, but reading the official words "Cerebral Palsy" on her medical chart provided me with an <i>out of body </i>experience. In that instant my dreams of chasing our toddler in diapers down the hallway evaporated into thin air. I was filled with fear; What was our future going to look like? Would she ever walk? Would she ever be independent? </span><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> I </span>remember feeling like I was so rude because all I wanted to do was ask other special needs parents<b> when did your child</b> (sit, crawl, stand...) you know, the milestone questions. I was desperate to acquire any sort of idea on what to expect for our future with my newly diagnosed child. I often felt alone and hopeless, like I was drowning.</div><div><br></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I had a hard time with the fact that I just felt so selfish, like it was all happening to me. It was happening to our family, and more importantly- Finley. In my mind, I was faced with choosing between one of two directions: pity or positivity. I chose to move forward and make my daughter's young</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> life (the part that I'm in control of) one that would instill strength in her physically and emotionally. No matter how difficult it could be, I chose to give her my 110%. </span></div><div><br><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I began fifiandmo when she was just 1.5 years old, she just turned 3. I have received countless emails and messages from SN parents asking me <b>the milestone questions</b>. Everytime I read one and prepare to respond, I take a long breath and remember exactly how it felt to be in their shoes. I read these emails and I just want to reach through the phone, hug them, and tell them: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> <i>It is going to be okay. </i></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><i>At some point all of the fear and the 'what ifs' will grow silent. Before you know it, you'll have endured through this season and be on the other side. You'll look back at the road behind you and realize you aren't the person you were at the beginning of it. The best part is, you wouldn't trade your lexperiences for anything. The painful and beautiful life of a special needs parent will make you stronger and give you the gift of perspective. Through the tears you will find that the best treasures are occurring in your everyday life. </i></span></div></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I decided to compile all of finleys milestones from 0 to 3 years old (in almost chronological order.) </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0S6VJ9hYbUA/V78DS5-s9eI/AAAAAAAAAcE/nHngu_-QsoM/s640/blogger-image--448897635.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0S6VJ9hYbUA/V78DS5-s9eI/AAAAAAAAAcE/nHngu_-QsoM/s640/blogger-image--448897635.jpg"></a></div>B I R T H </div></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">My preemie was born at 31 weeks gestation. She had bilateral grade 3 brain-bleeds. Same size, but the right side took longer to resolve- as a result her left side is weaker. Her diagnosis is Spastic Diplegia- both legs affected. She was on ventilator first few hours of life, weaned off pretty quickly. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-uiz-74183y0/V78DTVfgAoI/AAAAAAAAAcI/Q6yFsgga94k/s640/blogger-image-337457770.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-uiz-74183y0/V78DTVfgAoI/AAAAAAAAAcI/Q6yFsgga94k/s640/blogger-image-337457770.jpg"></a></div><div>B O T T L E </div></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">She finished her first bottle when she was one month old, which puts her at 35 weeks gestation. (The ability to 'suck' usually comes at 34 weeks). She had the Dr. Brown bottle up until she was 14 months old, she started biting the nipples off around 13 months. One night we were on the last bottle in my inventory, and she bit the nipple off! (Nooo!) I couldn't leave (hubby was gone) to get a new one. Luckily, I had her on a Munchkin sippy-cup during the day that she had mastered that straw with... So I just had that for her to drink when she was thirsty that night and just like that- the bottle was quit cold turkey. (I wish I could say the same for the pacifier 😫) </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OWxjb2zqQVM/V78DT-J-jXI/AAAAAAAAAcM/3xQbonC9-Zc/s640/blogger-image--600616061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OWxjb2zqQVM/V78DT-J-jXI/AAAAAAAAAcM/3xQbonC9-Zc/s640/blogger-image--600616061.jpg"></a></div><b> </b></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">C A R S E A T</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">She could tolerate the car seat, but screamed/cried everytime she was in a stopped car. (Until she was 8 months old)</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">For this I had many mirrors and toys. I discovered that driving with the air blasting, cracked windows, and rocking her tightly strapped infant carrier side to side- worked! I did this until she went forward facing. Little did I know this was part of her 'sensory issues' which I think it's a sensitivity to motion really. She did the same thing in elevators. (Which is super fun.) Nothing like driving with a baby that HATES the car! I avoided any unnecessary driving trips like the plague! </span></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-aVxdPK_9US0/V78D9trrGkI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/745J0P_HAqg/s640/blogger-image-580444017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-aVxdPK_9US0/V78D9trrGkI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/745J0P_HAqg/s640/blogger-image-580444017.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;">B A T H </div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"> She also couldn't tolerate bath time until she was 6 months old- also due to sensory issues. She would scream/cry for the entirety of the time in the tub, it sounded like we were torturing her. I would bathe her as quick and calmly as I could! Then it happened- I remember it was around Christmas time. I put her in and was bracing myself for another <i>joyous</i> bathtime and she just laid there so peacefully and even started splashing & smiling. Hallelujah! Thus began her love for bath time. Talk about night and day. Here she is with her sweet friend, Casen, that is just 2 months older than her. Currently I can't get this chick out of the tub! </div><div class="separator" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-vaj7WvIGZF0/V8UWQm30omI/AAAAAAAAAfE/w7mpoWsPM_M/s640/blogger-image-726083383.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-vaj7WvIGZF0/V8UWQm30omI/AAAAAAAAAfE/w7mpoWsPM_M/s640/blogger-image-726083383.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">D R O O L </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The drool!! It was the worst while she was teething, obviously. I just remember different materials would make her drool & it was pretty recently that I noticed she wasn't drooling as much. It was like she sort of outgrew it. Every now and then when she is really concentrating or really stimulated a big glob of drool will roll out. But for the most part we are drool free at three! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div></div></div></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lNdh7xU0y4Q/V8Bp8Tq-ZzI/AAAAAAAAAdA/p7g8JKErEq0/s640/blogger-image--1354172387.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lNdh7xU0y4Q/V8Bp8Tq-ZzI/AAAAAAAAAdA/p7g8JKErEq0/s640/blogger-image--1354172387.jpg"></a></div></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">C R E E P I N G </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">I would say she never did a true creep until about 11 months old. From 7 months to 10 months she really just sort of wiggled and slithered her way around. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Sv0XVmBSs-c/V8TpM1vF8NI/AAAAAAAAAec/SaB0MJQ0iCc/s640/blogger-image--8651385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Sv0XVmBSs-c/V8TpM1vF8NI/AAAAAAAAAec/SaB0MJQ0iCc/s640/blogger-image--8651385.jpg"></a></div></div></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">R O L L I N G - O V E R </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Finley could roll over from front to back around 6 months old, and back to front around 9 months old. She struggles still rolling from her weaker side. But she can do it. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-EhqKncOx-Ik/V8Ufbd8zVoI/AAAAAAAAAfg/Xq5oLrtq2GI/s640/blogger-image--1473427022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-EhqKncOx-Ik/V8Ufbd8zVoI/AAAAAAAAAfg/Xq5oLrtq2GI/s640/blogger-image--1473427022.jpg"></a></div></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">S L E E P I N G (or lack of it)</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">The NICU had her on a 3 hour schedule, so I attempted to keep that up at home. I quickly noticed the best sleep she got was her naps during the day (on my chest). The max she got was 2 hours if she was laying flat. She would get 3-5 if she was in her bouncer. She would get 4-6 if she was on her tummy. (I think the pressure on her front side helped her sleep. The first year was totally unpredictable. Once we started her on solids she would scream from either gas or a burp. I had to learn to decipher the difference between the two. The second year she was up anywhere from one to 8 times a night, muscle cramping, restlessness, and thirst. It got easier he more she was able to communicate, we still crack up at the way she would yell "babaaaa" from a dead sleep. Lol. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Growth spurts were the best, she would sleep so hard. Teething was the worst, no sleep for weeks. She would make grunt like noises and I could just tell she was uncomfortable, so I would simply flip her body to the other side, and she would stay asleep. As a result of all these disturbances, we conveniently began co-sleeping. She currently sleeps 12 hours a night and if she wakes, she sips her water, and goes back to sleep. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cETN5oaiSfQ/V8TQipAqJDI/AAAAAAAAAds/R7wC51YnMzM/s640/blogger-image-480376421.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cETN5oaiSfQ/V8TQipAqJDI/AAAAAAAAAds/R7wC51YnMzM/s640/blogger-image-480376421.jpg"></font></a></div></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">S I T T I N G - U P</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I brought the bimbo with me everywhere until she was 8 months old. Let that be known, first. That tells you right there her trunk control was very wobbly for practically that whole first year. This one is really tough, because I have a picture from Finley's 7 month milestone, and she's sitting up with pillows all around her. She could sit, but had to solely focus on balance, it was very wobbly. I would say nearing 12 months old is when she could begin to sit and play. I would never leave her unattended still... Until she could go from crawling to sitting- which was closer to 15 months old. It was then that she had full control to get into a sitting position and out of it. </span></div><div style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></div></div></div><div style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></div><div><div><font><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V7xKKGstlB8/V8Bp6pttr4I/AAAAAAAAAc4/onembn_R9to/s640/blogger-image-271206978.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V7xKKGstlB8/V8Bp6pttr4I/AAAAAAAAAc4/onembn_R9to/s640/blogger-image-271206978.jpg"></a></div></font></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">C R A W L I N G </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I'll never forget the first time she crawled on her hands and knees. It was definitely an overnight thing! It was Christmas morning and she just got up and started crawling around! I couldn't believe it!! She was 15 months old and it was the best Christmas present I ever got. She pretty much solely crawled like that after. She tired easy.. But got stronger and stronger and faster and faster over time. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_FetcshwjoM/V8TpK5IsfcI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/r43b5euqPAQ/s640/blogger-image--1539117087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_FetcshwjoM/V8TpK5IsfcI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/r43b5euqPAQ/s640/blogger-image--1539117087.jpg"></font></a></div></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">S O L I D S </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Here is my wonderful husband feeding her solids for the first time. After a few tries she got the hang of it down! That drool though always made for a nice mess! She probably spit up everytime she ate until she was 15 months old. It just became part of life. She really loved anything puréed and all the puffs. She struggled chewing and would often just swallow her food whole. (Making for digestion difficulties and an upset tummy.) She coughed and practically choked during every feeding, I got very comfortable doing the swipe! Currently she eats anything and everything and is a healthy girl! </span></div></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XrNeU2NAToQ/V8UTvGz9rQI/AAAAAAAAAe4/oNv-i_FyyCE/s640/blogger-image-1791176729.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XrNeU2NAToQ/V8UTvGz9rQI/AAAAAAAAAe4/oNv-i_FyyCE/s640/blogger-image-1791176729.jpg"></a></div></div><div>F I N G E R F E E D I N G </div><div>I had to look back through my photos to jog my memory on this one. This is Fin at 11 months, she is feeding our dog, Sherlock. She was around 8 months when she started being able to get the puffs in her mouth with a pincer grasp. Right hand only. We have been working on her weaker hand and she has about 80% accuracy to this day with the left hand. </div><div><br></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><div><font><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-l82hypbszqw/V8Bp_vC5j2I/AAAAAAAAAdY/k5A3ge9OKhw/s640/blogger-image-268034579.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-l82hypbszqw/V8Bp_vC5j2I/AAAAAAAAAdY/k5A3ge9OKhw/s640/blogger-image-268034579.jpg"></a></div></font></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">T A L L K N E E L </span></div><div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">This girl.. This was about as great as her tall kneel got. But we could entice her with play and food to stay in this position. We worked realllllly hard! Here she is at 15 months old. To this day her legs just want to hyperextend and stand up, she doesn't love being in tall kneel. </font></div></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Y-bgwkrpvDA/V8Bp-NSkKwI/AAAAAAAAAdM/ZgWt8FYRPV0/s640/blogger-image--1131161634.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Y-bgwkrpvDA/V8Bp-NSkKwI/AAAAAAAAAdM/ZgWt8FYRPV0/s640/blogger-image--1131161634.jpg"></a></div></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">G A I T - T R A I N O R </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">We had a traditional kids walker in our house and would constantly stand Finley in it so she learned to be upright and enjoy it. It was great for her core strength and encouraged her to play with her hands. (I ignored of all the advice I got on why walkers were so bad, I knew it would be beneficial for my undiagnosed child). </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">We didn't get to take our Gait home until close to her 2nd birthday. Before that we just used them about 2 hours a week at therapy. Once we had it at home, I would lock the wheels in place and we would go along the sidewalk and she would have to control herself down and up the driveways. She loved going down the little hills so much it would motivate her to push up the other side. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div><font><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0YOD_EXG0rU/V8TpKLb86mI/AAAAAAAAAeM/tBOE_1jnUEM/s640/blogger-image-925737296.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0YOD_EXG0rU/V8TpKLb86mI/AAAAAAAAAeM/tBOE_1jnUEM/s640/blogger-image-925737296.jpg"></a></div></font></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">S I P P Y - C U P </span></div><div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As I mentioned before it was a pretty easy transition to the sippy cup. Conceptually Finley struggled that the cup needed to be held down to get liquid out of the straw. Then I found the munchkin anchored straw sippy cup, best find ever! I would buy every one target had in stock, because Finley would gnaw at the straws.. I loved those so much! Then we discovered the Nuby spill proof sippers, life-changing!! Hahhaha</font></div></div></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><div><font><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Z6jlR_9PFVc/V8TpLT_IBfI/AAAAAAAAAeU/YvVi_S_kCWs/s640/blogger-image--263535992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Z6jlR_9PFVc/V8TpLT_IBfI/AAAAAAAAAeU/YvVi_S_kCWs/s640/blogger-image--263535992.jpg"></a></div></div></font></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">P U L L T O S T A N D </span></div><div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">She actually started pulling to stand and crawling up the stairs on the same day, she was 18 months old. I remember crying my eyes out! I was so excited!! From that moment on she pulled herself up on everything and would stand sort of leaned over like this, she would try to bras the weight on her arms for the most part.. And the spasticity in her legs would make them just lock, it was crazy watching her pull to stand like this. She currently (at 3 years old) still sort of pulls to stand like this, we are working on bending one knee to help her stand up properly using more leg strength</font></div></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-s7z-rIv-X4s/V8Bp5bXWozI/AAAAAAAAAcw/oH8tEdURBSg/s640/blogger-image--742799453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-s7z-rIv-X4s/V8Bp5bXWozI/AAAAAAAAAcw/oH8tEdURBSg/s640/blogger-image--742799453.jpg"></a></div></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">K A Y E - W A L K E R </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">She began doing a lot of sitting and pushing in the gait, and I wanted to continue to push her since she got the hang of getting around in the gait trainer. I called it a boat, it was heavy! So we started with the Kaye in therapy and she did so well. We later got to bring a loaner home, close to her 2nd birthday- it had stoppers in the front and no swivel. Now after her 3rd birthday we have advanced to four wheels and swivel in front. She's getting the hang of it, it requires lots more core control with the swivel! We still use it as an activity, I wouldn't say she just walks around the house with a walker, it's more like we use it during "walking time". </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div></font></div><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font color="#000000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KniQUTesC1E/V8TpMad7WcI/AAAAAAAAAeY/COkT0lBoALI/s640/blogger-image-1130195295.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KniQUTesC1E/V8TpMad7WcI/AAAAAAAAAeY/COkT0lBoALI/s640/blogger-image-1130195295.jpg"></a></font></div></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">P U S H I N G A T O Y </span></div><div><font style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I'll never forget this day! Up until then I called all push toys "The Devil"- Shen would cry and cry because she would be so great rates! It was awful. I actually avoided many play dates during this phase. She was a little over 2. She was doing better with her walker in therapy so I figured I would give it another try one day. And she did it. She maintained her Balance while pushing! She tended to hold tight with her arms as if she could hold up her weight with her upper body. To this day she still needs her push you to be weighted down in order for it not to flip up & cause her to face plant.</font></div></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div></font></div><div><br></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XIODc01_CHo/V8URURPlPXI/AAAAAAAAAes/cM0bebhmoPg/s640/blogger-image--1171387076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XIODc01_CHo/V8URURPlPXI/AAAAAAAAAes/cM0bebhmoPg/s640/blogger-image--1171387076.jpg"></a></div></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">P O T T Y </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">We haven't seen a Urologist yet, but I'm certain her bladder's spasticity is affected by her CP. I haven't pushed it so much but I often ask her about peepee. We have gone on the toilet once. Poopoo on the otherhand, we are on the potty very frequently for. I had her on miralax for awhile due to the size of her BM's. They caused her pain to push out, they were huge! The miralax helped, but I wanted to have her on something better for her. I put her on probiotics, and we haven't really had issues since. Her core strength and the fact that she moves around all day probably are key factors to helping the movement flow through her digestive tract. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-s9Sdz33FhT4/V8UnnX1Xj9I/AAAAAAAAAf0/CtS2pO946PQ/s640/blogger-image--1477086691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-s9Sdz33FhT4/V8UnnX1Xj9I/AAAAAAAAAf0/CtS2pO946PQ/s640/blogger-image--1477086691.jpg"></a></div></div><div>S W I M M I N G </div><div>We did Mommy and me swim lessons at 15 months old and she loved it. She struggles with closing her mouth on command, so we didn't put her under much. She did great in the babyseat canopy flotation devices, moderate tipping as she got older. </div><div>It was actually just recently we were in the pool and she had her swim vest on, and she was actually swimming! She was moving her little body around and kicking her legs, and maintaining a balance. She tires easily so we couldn't do it for longer than an hour or so, but it was awesome to watch her go from one side to the other on her own. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-nB_vNxHPmOc/V8Bp54qO5bI/AAAAAAAAAc0/wApeOpMf_Ig/s640/blogger-image--1856749861.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-nB_vNxHPmOc/V8Bp54qO5bI/AAAAAAAAAc0/wApeOpMf_Ig/s640/blogger-image--1856749861.jpg"></a></div></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">C R U I S I N G F U R N I T U R E </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">So, this was really recently too!! She was 34 months old I believe! We have been working on "side stepping" for almost a year! Up until then she had done it in such a way it didn't really look like "cruising". I came around the corner and she was going around the table!! It was unreal. She was slow around the corners.. But she had it down! She currently is beginning to let go with one hand and transfer from table to couch and back again. This is the also the first day that she would fall, and it wouldn't be the end of the world. She just got back up and kept at it. Proud mama moment for sure. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Eauoo3lcR34/V8Bp7oTboJI/AAAAAAAAAc8/uJ0zCYL1_Gc/s640/blogger-image--781009713.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Eauoo3lcR34/V8Bp7oTboJI/AAAAAAAAAc8/uJ0zCYL1_Gc/s640/blogger-image--781009713.jpg"></a></div></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">T A L K I N G </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">We were pretty concerned with her speech because one of her bleeds appeared to be near the language area. I prayed specifically for her language skills. While she was delayed in conceptualizing, she was very communicative. She never qualified for speech. She's very shy, and startles easy- so most of the time she doesn't speak to people. </font></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-gmGWJNKsJ_U/V8Bp-hzq6NI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/8hNUWfA_T-k/s640/blogger-image-1166425373.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-gmGWJNKsJ_U/V8Bp-hzq6NI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/8hNUWfA_T-k/s640/blogger-image-1166425373.jpg"></a></div></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">M A S T E R I N G B A T H T I M E</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">So, she just turned 3 and it's the first time I've ever seen her move around the tub like a typical wild kid. She stands up, gets down, swims around, lays down, and just maneuvers herself very well. It's taken LOTS & LOTS of therapy, time, and patience to get here.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">It's been a lot of fun and a lot of sweat and tears. I would trade being able to celebrate these million milestones for anything in the world! It's been a blessing to our life to be able to cherish all the small things. We are awaiting the next BIG one, independent steps. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">(Hopefully after our SDR procedure coming up in a few months, we will see it in our near future! 🙏🏻) </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> Keep your head up Mamas and Papas, slow and steady wins the race - because of the perspective you gain from the road more traveled! 💚</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-78086537188395166352016-08-14T09:20:00.001-07:002016-08-14T18:39:20.085-07:00Why We Co-Sleep<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-GWfDFvm_uFY/V7Cfiarj6bI/AAAAAAAAAbM/3hvVvmVsp4w/s640/blogger-image--1575194583.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-GWfDFvm_uFY/V7Cfiarj6bI/AAAAAAAAAbM/3hvVvmVsp4w/s640/blogger-image--1575194583.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Every now and then this topic comes up and I'm faced with the realization that our sleeping habits aren't exactly </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">typical</i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">. I also feel like I should just say, "Hi! My name is Christina and I'm a co-sleeper." when I meet new potential mom-friends. </span></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lBr0U920568/V7CfnpuCKoI/AAAAAAAAAbc/gTAHmgtdN70/s640/blogger-image-1360135861.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lBr0U920568/V7CfnpuCKoI/AAAAAAAAAbc/gTAHmgtdN70/s640/blogger-image-1360135861.jpg"></a></div><br><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Let me take you back a little bit. My husband and I struggled with fertility. We tried to make a baby naturally and did not succeed. We watched friends around us celebrate pregnancies and births while we remained empty-armed parents to a human child. During this time is when I think </span><b style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">it </b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">happened. "</span><b style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">It"</b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> being my lack of concern to be the parent that society tells me I'm </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">supposed</i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> to be. </span></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-t4MkawtL5Qw/V7CfjLl6ChI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/jhw2CAT3WGE/s640/blogger-image--2073123202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-t4MkawtL5Qw/V7CfjLl6ChI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/jhw2CAT3WGE/s640/blogger-image--2073123202.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">We adopted our little girl from birth. When we were matched with her birth-parents we had already had the gender nuetral nursery all ready and set up for baby. Little did we know she would never EVER sleep in there. Lol. Well, maybe for a nap or two.</span></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MtOeFInbE5E/V7Cfm6yop3I/AAAAAAAAAbY/gW8KAYP1F5w/s640/blogger-image--2085814152.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MtOeFInbE5E/V7Cfm6yop3I/AAAAAAAAAbY/gW8KAYP1F5w/s640/blogger-image--2085814152.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">She was born 9 weeks premature. That's over TWO MONTHS early! She spent 5 weeks in the NICU. Try to imagine a time in your life where you were forced to be somewhere for FIVE weeks. 35 days straight. I sat for hours upon hours every single day just watching her be a little warrior. I held her skin to skin on my chest and I would breathe her in. I kissed her head so much she should have my lips embedded into her skull. This </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">was the time we were able to bond, which is super duper important in general- but also with adoption, especially of a preemie with a hovering "failure to thrive" diagnosis. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">When we brought her home from the hospital it was obviously so amazing for a trillion reasons, but it was so intimidating as far as sleeping was concerned! A little 5 pound baby is terrifying to lay in a huge crib. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-EN6oCd8jBfA/V7CfpyhTHOI/AAAAAAAAAbk/XhYu0_zpAtw/s640/blogger-image-155832341.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-EN6oCd8jBfA/V7CfpyhTHOI/AAAAAAAAAbk/XhYu0_zpAtw/s640/blogger-image-155832341.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I mean when you are accustomed to those NICU alarms going off every few hours with *breathing apnea alerts, it's enough to scare the crapola out of you for the rest of your life! Now, I was just supposed to bring her home from the <i>hospital</i> and lay her in a crib that's another room away?! I had the angel care monitor and a video monitor set-up, but I just couldn't do it for fear I would sleep through those sounds. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> There was a few months, though, that I had her sleep next to us in the bassinet. I was, of course, up every few hours because she was a tummy-sleeper and it <b>petrified</b> me because that's not what we are <i>supposed</i> to do. (Even though that's what <i>our</i> parents were told to do.) I know this because of all the sleep-train advice I received along with books and more advice, and did I mention more unsolicited new-mom advice. (I know, I know... politely insert eye-roll.) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-T9rDIC_Rcqw/V7CfgVIxYVI/AAAAAAAAAbI/vnWYvyot5lw/s640/blogger-image--56833425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-T9rDIC_Rcqw/V7CfgVIxYVI/AAAAAAAAAbI/vnWYvyot5lw/s640/blogger-image--56833425.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></div></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I can't tell you when we made the full-blown transfer to co-sleephood. I know for awhile after she turned one, we attempted to put her to sleep in the crib and then when she would routinely wake-up after 3 hours, I would just bring her in bed with us. A- because I wanted her to get a good solid nights' sleep (she would do that in our bed) & B-because I missed her, okay?! (I can admit that).</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FiIAR8y5pJw/V7CflJ0t6OI/AAAAAAAAAbU/0qplxglhcvI/s640/blogger-image--1767653104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FiIAR8y5pJw/V7CflJ0t6OI/AAAAAAAAAbU/0qplxglhcvI/s640/blogger-image--1767653104.jpg"></a></div><br></div></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I also feel the need to mention.. At one year old Fin could not go from laying to sitting up on her own. Her muscles got tighter in her sleep. If she needed to roll over or sit up to get a burp out she couldn't, so she would cry. A painful cry, not to be confused with one of those pesky "manipulative, I need you" cries. I would just flip her over or rotate her hips a certain way and she went back to sleep (this happened probably two or three times a night). It's very common with Spastic CP to have muscle aches, restless legs, and disturbed sleep. These are all factors (or you can call them excuses) on how we came to be co-sleepers.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4OCpoo_NOFw/V7Cfo_dSGiI/AAAAAAAAAbg/QY8tAWIN2XA/s640/blogger-image-941744949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4OCpoo_NOFw/V7Cfo_dSGiI/AAAAAAAAAbg/QY8tAWIN2XA/s640/blogger-image-941744949.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Co-Sleeping has made adventuring and going places easier. She falls asleep anywhere, all she needs is her mama! So that has definitely made for great travel experiences and overnight trips. (And TMI but, mommy and daddy still get plenty of 'quality time' together if you know what I mean.) </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> When we moved into our new house last year, we sold the crib. We haven't gotten her a toddler bed yet. We will get one soon though, because after her surgery she will be able to get herself in and out of a bed! {See my last blog post to read about Finley's life-changing surgery and how you can help by Dancing!} We want her to soar and have independence! Though, I know I'll probably cry myself to sleep on the floor next to her. I've always wanted to do my best for her and I believe that what we've been giving her, our best.</span></div><div><br></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--UddUsw0lfE/V7CaMANvtjI/AAAAAAAAAa0/5RY40Xjockk/s640/blogger-image--862541362.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--UddUsw0lfE/V7CaMANvtjI/AAAAAAAAAa0/5RY40Xjockk/s640/blogger-image--862541362.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>[ Me "fake sleeping" 😊 On average she is currently sleeping 12-13 hours a night and taking no naps. I know, I'm now grieving the loss of nap time😭. We all miraculously get full nights rests with 5 of us in the bed. Haha- doggies too.]</span></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-53290342408059534612016-07-27T11:31:00.001-07:002016-12-26T10:04:55.543-08:00Our YOUCARING story<div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Shortly after our first wedding anniversary we did what every couple tends to do and decided to try for baby. After a long 14 months of having no success we were mentally exhausted and turned to an Infertility Specialist. We learned that I have what's called Diminished Ovarian Reserve (a known side-effect of the serious acne medication, Accutane). They explained that natural conception would be unlikely and our risk of multiple miscarriages was high. We were crushed. Through all of our prayers, our hearts led us to Adoption. We met with an attorney a month later and thus began the lengthy process. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">After a short wait we received the call that we were chosen by an expecting couple. We were beyond elated to be chosen. We met with the couple and they told us we would become parents to a little girl in just a few short months. To say we were excited would be an understatement. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">A few weeks later, our birthmother showed signs of preterm labor. And our daughter was delivered by emergency c-section at 31 weeks gestation. She spent her first few hours of life fighting, alone in a NICU room hooked up to a ventilator. 3 pounds of pure heaven. I'll never forget the first time I laid my eyes on her, I was so scared and so in love, I just wanted to climb in her little incubator and tell her, "I'll always protect you and I promise to give you the world." And just like that all the pain of infertility was quickly forgotten. </span><br>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">We chose the name Finley, which means "fair warrior." Couldn't be more fitting. We learned that she had suffered <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Bilateral Grade-3 Brain Bleeds </span>due to her prematurity. When we googled "Brain Bleeding" we saw that likely she would have Cerebral Palsy (CP). We were told she would be very delayed and might not ever walk. We chose to do everything in our power to make sure this wasn't the case. Early intervention is Key. We started therapy and Infant Stimulation when she was just 3 months old. We have done tri-weekly Occupational and Physical therapies, stretching programs, eye-surgery and patching, Botox injections, some medications, restricted diets, essential oils, supplements, infant massage, day bracing, night bracing, horse therapy, water therapy, kinesio-taping, and ballet. All while trying to let her just enjoy being a kid.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">Finley's official diagnosis is Spastic Diplegia Cerebral Palsy with overall Left-Side Weakness. Spastic diplegia, historically known as Little's Disease, is a form of CP that is a chronic neuromuscular condition of hypertonia and spasticity — manifested as an especially high and constant "tightness" or "stiffness" — in the muscles of the lower extremities of the human body, usually those of the legs, hips and pelvis. Spastic diplegia accounts for about 22% of all diagnoses of cerebral palsy, and together with spastic quadriplegia and spastic triplegia make up the broad classification spastic cerebral palsy, which accounts for 70% of all cerebral palsy diagnoses.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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<br><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">A few weeks ago, Finley was fitted for a wheel chair. It was the sweetest little chair I've ever seen. However, it was a tough pill to swallow that this new piece of equipment would be the next season of our life. We are not complaining, we know we are so blessed, but like every parent we long for endless opportunities for our girl. She wants to be standing all the time, I know this because she tells me so. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">My heart breaks a little everytime she asks me to help her stand.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">If I could give her my legs, I would. As a parent there is nothing more devastating then watching your child suffer or struggle. She has to ask me to walk, to sit on something, to get off something, and often in the mornings she struggles to sit herself up. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">A few months ago, the magic happened. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;">An answer to our prayers. </span><br></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lZ5wutjmJBw/V5j-F1HnpkI/AAAAAAAAAZo/PeH6z86oIcE/s640/blogger-image-46242800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lZ5wutjmJBw/V5j-F1HnpkI/AAAAAAAAAZo/PeH6z86oIcE/s640/blogger-image-46242800.jpg"></a></span></div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">We had many many signs leading us to this SDR surgery that is done in St. Louis. It is known as a <em style="box-sizing: border-box;">life changing</em> surgery for kids with Spastic CP. I've even seen it referred to as "the cure" for this type of CP. Another girl said after the surgery it was like she had new legs, a lot of people are saying that actually. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">Her Pain Management Specialist told us at our last visit in Febraury that he thinks Finley would be an excellent candidate for this procedure. Really? An opportunity for new legs for Finley?! <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">Her Spasticity is already high and can become tighter as she grows. Often people experience joints popping out of place due to their spasticity, as well as spasms and severe muscle aches, which are all extremely painful. There are medications, but a lifetime of strong painmeds and muscle relaxers filtering through her little liver isn't what we want for her. This surgery is a permanent spasticity reducer and is best performed at the young age of 3.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">Fifi just turned 3.</span><br>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">We've been through the application process and just received our surgery date in November! We know this is the next chapter of her young life. This surgery costs $50k and traditionally insurance does not cover it. We will have to travel accross country and stay in a hotel nearby. There is greater risk of "blood clots" if you choose to fly too soon after surgery, so we are hoping to raise enough to afford renting an RV so we can keep her comfortable during the 25 hour drive. That and we will be missing work, my husband and I are both <em style="box-sizing: border-box;">commission only</em> so being gone almost half of a month is a very scary thing for us, it would be incredible to not have to add financial stress. </span><br></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My girlfriend, Brittany, came up with the idea to fundraise using a Dare to Dance Challenge Campaign. (Think ALS ice bucket challenge.) We hit the ground running with it, and so far it's been so successful! It led us to raise $45k in two weeks! We've seen amazing videos, even some from the Kings, Lakers, Perez Hilton, the KTLA news crew, and the famous twins from ABC's Tje Bachelor. We have had to pinch ourselves quite often the last few weeks that everyone is dancing for our girl! <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">A donation of any size would help us greatly! In the event insurance does miraculously cover the surgery cost, we will save it for her future surgeries & procedures (she'll likely have dozens of them before she turns 15) but this is the BIG one. We also have the strong desire to start the "Finley Foundation" along with Finley's physical therapist and her clinic. We would love the opportunity to help other fanilies with special needs children in our community. We know, we are dreaming big! There are so many parents hoping and wanting some help providing services for their kiddos! (We will update as soon as we hear from insurance, we are going to bat, folks!) <br style="box-sizing: border-box;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;">We long to see our daughter take her first independent steps and cannot wait to dance with her and watch her twirl around in that adorable Trevi Ave Co tutu! </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">To watch our story behind the Dare to Dance Challenge : </span><a href="https://youtu.be/Pujz69Uy6ZU">click here</a></div>
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To donate: <a href="https://www.youcaring.com/finley-582947">click here</a></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">To read more about the SDR surgery: </span><a href="http://www.stlouischildrens.org/our-services/center-cerebral-palsy-spasticity/about-selective-dorsal-rhizotomy-sdr">click here</a></div>
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To watch our dance video: <a href="https://youtu.be/gy7pe33PnvY">click here</a></div>
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To watch us dance with the LAFD: <a href="https://youtu.be/kkJTn7KcqBc">click here</a></div>
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Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-1017380153811999392016-05-17T08:41:00.001-07:002016-05-17T08:41:17.280-07:00About our Wheelchair Pic<span style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Yesterday I posted a photo on Instagram. It wasn't just a picture, it was a moment which captured the essence of the Finley meeting the next chapter of her life. </span><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I want to thank you all so much for the support and love. I also want to explain a little about what her getting this wheelchair means. </div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IWJNQXjzQ7U/Vzs7m9J4edI/AAAAAAAAAV0/C_Jf2afmdF8/s640/blogger-image--396882109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IWJNQXjzQ7U/Vzs7m9J4edI/AAAAAAAAAV0/C_Jf2afmdF8/s640/blogger-image--396882109.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><div>Since she was 3 months old she was receiving weekly in-home physical and occupational therapy services through Inland Regional Center. They offer infant stimulation/massage, speech, physical, and occupational therapy. It's a state funded not-for-profit program that <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">provides these services and programs to more than 30,000 people with <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Developmental_disabilities" title="Developmental disabilities" class="mw-redirect" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; line-height: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; background-image: none; text-decoration: none;">developmental disabilities</a> and their families in California until the child reaches the age of three. </span></div></div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The last year we have been receiving therapy services through a state-funded program and they also provide loaner equipment. Up until now you've see Fin on different loaners. T</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">his will be the first equipment that is our very own</span><span style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">. </span></div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Fin will be transferring over to the School District as she will be turning 3 in July and will age out of the early intervention therapy program. Which means she will be in pre-school. I know, I'm already crying about it. My baby in preschool. </span></div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">She will use her walker and get pulled out of class for different therapies throughout the day and week while she is in the classroom. The wheelchair will be for transporting her room to room, bathroom, assemblies, and fieldtrips. It's for her safety. </div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">When you see pictures of her in her walker I'm very close by. She isn't able to get into it herself, so she will need to be monitored closely while at school. The idea of the wheelchair stung a little, I'm not going to lie. But seeing her so happy in it made my heart burst with joy. </div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">It's in these moments that I'm grateful to be a special needs mom. I'm always a proud one, but the gratefulness comes in waves. We aren't sure how long the wheels will be with us, could be forever or could be three years... We are going to have lots of ups and downs I'm sure, but I'm excited to reach this next chapter. </div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I want to thank every single one of you who tell me about the SDR surgery. We have reached out to Dr. Park's office and are in the application process. We are not sure yet if our insurance is going to cover it yet. I will definitely be keeping y'all updated. </div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Please don't be a stranger and if you have any questions please email me! </div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Fifiandmo@gmail.com </div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">💚</div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgb(69, 69, 69); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-89958904667379811992016-05-04T10:57:00.001-07:002016-10-08T06:42:22.981-07:00When I found my unused pregnancy announcement<p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_-JcFClgyYE/V8g9y3weYII/AAAAAAAAAgY/tg67Ps2rHHk/s640/blogger-image--323313706.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_-JcFClgyYE/V8g9y3weYII/AAAAAAAAAgY/tg67Ps2rHHk/s640/blogger-image--323313706.jpg"></a></div><br><p></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My husband and I recently moved. Last week I decided to clear out some space in the garage (per his request), and I found an unfamiliar shoe box. I opened it and received a little piece of the past. So many emotions came over me as I stared at this picture of me “announcing my pregnancy.”</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Let me clarify, I was never pregnant. I was merely a freak-planner to a fault. I fell in love with the baby shower theme “Bun in the oven” so I had my girlfriend take fun pictures of me taking a cinnamon bun out of the oven.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://themighty.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/05/image6.jpeg" alt="woman holding cinnamon bun" style="box-sizing: border-box; max-width: 100%; height: auto; display: block; vertical-align: middle; margin: 0px;"></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I printed one out and made a cute frame for my husband. He was to find it in the oven on a cute little baking tray with a daddy book and the positive pregnancy stick. Adorable, right? I even went as far as ordering little favors for how we would announce it to the family. I did all this because I was going to get pregnant easily and one could never be too prepared, right? Big fat wrong.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">While “trying for baby” I got one false positive. Let me tell you, they are emotionally and painfully real.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Going through the fertility testing was excruciating for me. I felt like my womanhood was being questioned. <em style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: inherit;">Am I less of a woman if I’m infertile?</em> Then all of the what-if scenarios come into play.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><em style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: inherit; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">What if there’s something wrong with me? </em></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><em style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: inherit; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">What if I never have children? </em></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><em style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: inherit; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">What if my husband wants to leave because I can’t bear children for him? </em></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My results showed I have what’s called “diminished ovarian reserve.” Turns out it’s a known side-effect of Accutane, a super serious acne medication I took in my early 20s. I did a low dose for about four months. I’ll never know if that’s what caused my issues, and I’m finally at a place where I'm content with that. The doctor told me it was “unlikely” we would conceive naturally but that it was “very likely” I would miscarry if we did.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Having friends experience miscarriages in all terms of pregnancy, I thought I definitely don’t think I can handle going through more pain.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Hearing the results was intense. I think I cried for 24 hours straight. Even watching episodes of “Friends” couldn’t distract me. There was no escaping that empty-ache in my heart. I can’t explain what it felt like. It was awful.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I knew in my heart that I wasn’t going to pursue fertility treatments. I can’t explain that one either, instinctively- it just never seemed like an option in my mind. Thankfully, my husband was on the same page. He comforted me with jokes, “What am I a medieval king? Bear children for me or leave?”</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We jointly knew adoption was for us. I never ever questioned our decision to pursue adoption. Of course as I watched pregnancy announcements and gender reveals go crazy on social media- I knew that I would one day get to announce MY exciting news. </span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I rarely take this walk down memory lane... because I feel so completed and my heart is so full. I no longer desire a biological baby and I can't imagine life without my daughter. The day I learned of my infertility- I never would have believed I would end up here. This place where I’m an [adoptive] mom to a gorgeous girl. I text with her biological mom frequently. Matter of fact, we are hanging out this weekend and going to our daughters friend's birthday party. Never did I dream of such a life.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Back to the garage. I held this photo in my hand and stared at a picture of myself. I thought out loud, “Man, that girl had no idea what kind of life she was in store for.” I showed my husband, he hugged me, and I put it back in the box.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">If you are currently an empty armed mother, just know your heart will get through the pain. I promise you one day you will be holding your child and forget what life was like before them. Every day is one day closer to holding your precious child. The saying really is true, “Motherhood is a miracle, no matter how it comes to you." </span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 2rem; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></p>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-20752942094769562142016-04-05T12:46:00.001-07:002016-08-19T14:28:34.135-07:00About our Open Adoption<span style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Lately I seem to find myself in a lot of conversations where someone is telling me that - they want to adopt, but don't think they could handle open adoption. Truthfully, I felt the exact same way. It wasn't until I was actually in the adoption process that I realized this was the only way I could imagine it. The same way all new parents have a list of everything they swear we won't do or become, and then we all know we end up doing most of those things and become that parent we swore we wouldn't. How does that saying go? "I was a really good mom before I had kids." Haha! It's exactly right, just like "I had a really closed mind before I had an open adoption."</span><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I have a few adoptee friends who all have met a minimum of one member of their birthfamily, for some they continued relationships and for others it was just something they had to do at least once. Whatever the reason, it happened. It's human nature to seek your origin. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Open adoption exists because the last generation of adoptees from closed adoptions grew up and realized they had a better way of doing it. Open. They chose to educate others or chose to adopt their children and then chose to be open with their child and everyone around them from get-go!</span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Now I know what you are thinking, "I still couldn't do it." You could and you would, because the love you have for your child will make you want to do everything right by them.</span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Typically in conversations about my open-adoption I get asked, "What are the legalities on how open you have to be?" Well my friend, you can be as open as you feel comfortable. I know there are some legal commitments you can set, but in the situation that adoptive parents don't follow through - hiring an attorney to file the paperwork might be too expensive for some birthmothers. Our Attorney advised us to make no promises, because you never know how you will feel in coming years. I really liked that approach, I feel it made our situation more genuine in nature. I agreed to send picture updates & said we were open to physical visits, but we didn't ever talk about specifics for the future. When she handed me her baby, I promised I would love and take care of her child to the best of my abilities. That was the first promise I made. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">With our daughter being in the NICU for 5 weeks, I saw her birth parents almost every single day. Talk about open. One of the first "open adoption" decisions I faced was regarding hospital bracelets on the day they signed their relinquishment papers. The hospital allowed 2 per child, obviously one for mom and one for dad, right? Well LeeLee wanted to keep that bracelet and it was the second promise I made to her, "after you sign these papers, I will not take your bracelet away." We established trust very quickly. One of my biggest fears was that LeeLee would change her mind. Legally there was nothing she could do, but that wasn't my concern. My worry was that she would regret her decision, a choice I was so glad I didn't coat with "promises". My heart would have been completely shattered if she ever told me she regretted the decision to place her baby with us. There was a moment in week 1 in the hospital (before papers were signed) where she said to me, "Even if I wanted to keep her, I couldn't." That pained me so deeply. This woman is grieving while I was experiencing such intense joy. I promise you, if you are human and adopting domestically, you will definitely experience this "guilt". This is an emotion I never anticipated when we started this process.</span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Open Adoption is like a marriage, no two are alike. The matching & choosing process is unlike anything I've ever experienced. When we received the call that someone had chosen us as parents for their baby, I knew I could love them because they saw something they loved in us. Our relationship started with a blind first date and its growing on a healthy path. We are blessed. I've seen all different types of OA relationships. From adoptive moms inviting their child's birthmother to live with them to some whose child's birthmom is not in a healthy place to continue an open relationship. I've seen birthmoms in pain because their child's adoptive parents fell off the map after the papers were signed. Feeling tricked and misled. They have to live everyday in that regret that I was so afraid of our LeeLee living with. Let me clarify, these moms don't regret placing their child, they just regret the persons they chose. They aren't trying to co-parent, they just want the promises made to them -kept. After all the HUGE promise <i>they</i> kept literally broke their own heart. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Fast forward 2.5 years, we've had about a dozen visits with Finley's birthfamily and I text with her birthmother at minimum once a week, this is just how our relationship has organically formed. This last October Fin's biological grandmother passed away. I loved her, she always had the most thoughtful gifts for us and was just a very sweet lady. My husband, Fin, and I attended her funeral. At the service they read, "Candice is survived by her Husband, her sons, her daughter, and 1 grandchild." There I was, holding her granddaughter. I was overtaken again by the beautiful and unanticipated emotions of open adoption. All of these thoughts ran through my mind, I was mostly just so happy that we had memories to share with Grandma Candi. When we had visits we included all the family, I felt like it was normal to do so. I've seen and collected so many old photos, that in certain pictures I can see Finley's Grandparents features through her expressions. That is the magnificence of open adoption. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">It's hard for me to sum this up into one short conversation, unless we have hours to talk. Honestly, I have so many more stories that support my growing love for open adoption. I always hear about its benefits for the adoptee, but I believe the benefits are shared by everyone. I will never feel threatened by Finley's birthmom, because I've invested in our relationship and I know her, she's become my friend. She always thanks me and let's me know how so grateful she is that she chose me to raise her child. I'll never forget the day she chose me. The day I knew my arms would never be empty again, the day my heart knew a mother's love. It wouldn't be possible without her, and I'll never forget that. So when you think of "not being able to handle open adoption"- think about not being able to continually show love, compassion, and gratitude for the most incredible gift you've ever received. I assure you if everyone is healthy in your Triad, you will find nothing more natural than open adoption. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Adoption Triad</span>: A term used to describe the three-sided relationship that exists in an adoption between birth parents, adoptive parents and the adoptee, each of which is interrelated and inter-dependent on the others.</span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-k4q4obFEF8E/VwP6ji_A8-I/AAAAAAAAATY/1Cq6n4rhM4U/s640/blogger-image--1502261646.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-k4q4obFEF8E/VwP6ji_A8-I/AAAAAAAAATY/1Cq6n4rhM4U/s640/blogger-image--1502261646.jpg"></font></a></div></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-59383459036558089732016-03-28T12:00:00.001-07:002016-03-28T13:54:37.421-07:00Why Adoption Was Our First Option<span style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> I think the number one question I hear after I tell someone that we adopted, is "why?" It's an interesting thing, because while in so many ways we are just normal parents - this is part of our life that will always be utilized to educate and advocate. I think if our child didn't look exactly like us, we would be<i> living adoption</i> more often- probably every day. My husband and I both grew up saying, "I'd love to adopt one day!" I'm learning there's just a lot of people that say that and quite a few less who actually do. Your heart and your life circumstances usually have to strongly connect in order to adopt, in my opinion. </span><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Like most married couples, after awhile you start yearning for that "Baby in the Baby carriage" part. After 18 months of <b>really</b> trying to conceive, we had one false positive. They exist. It was devastating. You name it, I tried it; positions, foods, special diets, gels, lotions, vitamins, not stressing, chiropractor, oils, acupuncture, ovulation sticks, every night, every <i>other</i> night, etc. etc. If there was a "right way" to get pregnant, we certainly tried it. It was exhausting. Amidst our efforts, I suffered the tragic loss of my Father whom I was very close to. Without a doubt that added stress to my body.</span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> I was honestly ready to throw in the towel for some time when we took it to a fertility specialist. The results showed that I have what's called <b>Diminished Ovarian Reserve </b>a known side-effect of <b>Accutane</b> (a serious acne medication) which I had taken. Do I think this is what did it? I'm not sure and truly I don't really care. It cannot be changed, so I don't stress it. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Hearing the news was difficult, especially while still mourning my Dad. To now be grieving this loss was almost too intense. I mustered up all the logic and strength I could, and I gave it 24 hours to feel completely sorry for myself. I cried the whole time. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Within that 24 hours we decided to cancel the next two appointments with the fertility clinic, and to not pursue other options with a biological child. Ultimately we thought, why spend X amount of money on an uncertainty - when there will be a guaranteed baby who will need a home. It was as simple as that. Like I said before, I was already wanting to throw in the towel, I couldn't imagine enduring more months of the "waiting game" torture. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Neither my husband or I can remember who brought up adoption first. I remember us being equally excited, we had restored hope! We had just bought our first home and we couldn't wait to bring a baby into it. We met with our attorney about 2 weeks after the fertility results. We both were drawn to private domestic adoption. A week later I ordered the crib - Pottery Barn was having a sale, I <i>had</i> to! We began talking about our child again and dreaming of what life would be like. I'm a naturally impulsive person, but I feel like something was pulling me to move quickly, like I couldn't prepare fast enough. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> We got the call about 10 weeks later, we had a Match! This was CRAZY fast! I don't think I've ever been so nervous to meet someone (I'll elaborate on another day about all the emotions of the Adoption Process and how to best prepare yourself). After meeting the Expecting Parents in July, we knew we had a baby girl due in September. We had always loved the name Finley, and prayed that they would choose that to be on her birth-certificate, as her given name (and they did). We continued to best prepare for baby girls arrival, and she came two weeks later and was 9 weeks early! </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> Meeting our tiny miracle was unreal. I was blinded with love and my husband was more aware of the complications that could potentially come with her being so premature. We went through all the emotions the next 5 weeks- signing adoption papers and gaining legal guardianship, seeing our daughter's birth-family every day, dealing with social workers & nurses being so confused with our open-adoption. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> We learned right away that society doesn't instinctively understand open-adoption, and that not everyone supports it. One of the hospital's social workers legitimately made me feel like we were trying to steal this young woman's child. There's a whole world of adoptive-mom-guilt I've learned about, it just comes with the territory. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> I'll never forget our first morning at home with her. We sat on the couch sipped coffee and watched our daughter sleep in her little monkey bouncer, I obviously didn't sleep at all that first night- lol. We had 2 weeks knowing that she was coming, but spent months dreaming and preparing for her. It has never felt foreign to us, we see her as ours and as theirs. We continue to do visits and communicate with her birth-family, we view them as our extended family. In our experience everything aligned perfectly. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> A year later we finalized our adoption. This was the most amazing court experience ever, the state declared her our child. We became her legal parents. It was the most surreal of emotions signing that birth certificate.</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> I'll never forget Her birth grandma telling me when Finley was first born, "this child is yours, she may have been created by these two- but she was always yours." Talk about emotional. Words cannot describe what her words mean to me. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> So when I meet people, and they ask me "why adoption?" I feel like it's a loaded question. How can I possibly sum up this whole story into one quick response here in the grocery store? I can't. Instead I say, "because we were meant to." </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-nbDk_kzMG0o/Vvl_S7IRhFI/AAAAAAAAATI/cjYYBE41WCk/s640/blogger-image-2126221930.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-nbDk_kzMG0o/Vvl_S7IRhFI/AAAAAAAAATI/cjYYBE41WCk/s640/blogger-image-2126221930.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-62055580655658604952016-03-16T17:09:00.001-07:002016-03-24T19:18:13.787-07:00A Letter to Myself, Before I Became a Special Needs Parent<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I think everyone would agree - the worst thing about waiting - is the not knowing. You sort of have to suspend yourself in limbo. You look forward to the day you get the answer. It's torturous holding your breath until that moment comes, isn't it? It can be anything; a job, a loan, medical results, a conversation... but ultimately you have a sense of peace knowing the specific time frame you will be waiting? Right?? Like, I just have to make it to</span><span style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"> Friday</span><span style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">, "then I'll be ok." </span></span><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Well I've learned, with Cerebral Palsy there is no <i><b>Friday</b></i>. There is no date of cure. There is no day where you wake up with resolution. There's just the day that you realize you have become content with uncertainty. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">This day hit me this past Monday, when I was in the waiting room about to check out of one of Fin's Specialist appointments. I used to drag on each appointment as long as possible, (ignoring the body language of the Dr. as he back pedaled towards the door) asking so many questions and relying on the answers to bring me comfort. I needed to hear things over and over and I would leave feeling that "if I could just make it to the next appointment, then I would be ok." I could <i>survive</i> the in-between. Something was different this time. I was smiling and not crying, I had no questions, and I left feeling as though it was just a regular checkup. This doesn't mean I've lost my mojo. There's a lot of fight in me. </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">It's more like my brain just switched to the next level. You may have read my "wait scale" post, this is a newly discovered mode for me.</span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Fin was a preemie that suffered brain-bleeding and we started therapy when she was 3 months old. That's when my eagerness began and my ability to cry at the drop of a hat started. An undiagnosed child is a cause for high emotions and will cause any parent to be extremely tense or fragile. Though, I remember being fearful of the official title stamped over my daughter's medical records. I was scared but thought, "If we only had a diagnosis, then it would be ok, because then we could have a plan of attack." Attack.. That's how I felt about it, as though it was something I could fight off completely. Then the diagnosis came. Don't get me wrong, it brought a huge sigh of relief, but I found myself looking forward to each appointment thinking somewhere it would somehow change. The pressure I put on each one, lead to increased pressure on the next. I say pressure, because it feels like there's an elephant on your chest and you won't get that full amount of air in your lungs until you get your answer or reach the goal. I realize now that I was sprinting - ignorantly. And this is a cross-country run. I now know why some of the other parents I met didn't seem to be "full of hope" which I perceived to mean that they weren't trying to better their children's life and they had <i>settled</i>. Oh, foolish me</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I met some really inspiring parents that gave me unsolicited tips or advice, I knew they could read the fresh dose of fear written on my face. At therapy one time I had a mom tell me, "It ain't easy, but my motto is- if your kid is smiling, then you should be too." Looking back I can't even bear the thought of my baby smiling at me knowing I was fighting back tears of what <i>could</i> be. I wish I could have a chat with myself from 15 months ago, pre-diagnosis. I'd say;</span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Hey mama,</span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Life is going to get hard- but it's going to be okay. Parenthood is going to look different for you compared to your friends. It could always be better or worse. Be grateful in each moment, even the ones you feel 100% alone. There's no one to blame, and no one is blaming you. There will be a diagnosis, odds are many other labels, titles, and words will enter your life. Get comfortable with them, but don't let them dim your light. Watch your baby girl grow and don't worry about everyone else. You are on a unique road, don't expect others to understand it. Some days you'll want to be treated the same, some days you'll want them to know that life is different for you and your family. This is the path of a special needs parent. Those words "special needs" don't need to scare you either, I know you never thought they would be used to describe you. While they don't define you- you will find comfort in them. It's a journey that you will take one step at a time. You'll learn to live in the now, and in time you will discover the beauty that was created amidst this pain. You will adjust to the ups and downs and the possibility that today might be worse than yesterday, but tomorrow will be better. You won't let this rollercoaster determine how you treat others, and you will certainly teach your daughter the same. You won't merely "survive" each moment, you will make the most of them, after all this life is what you make of it. You will celebrate every tiny miracle each day brings, and find yourself becoming best friends with your daughters many therapists . On the days you feel defeated, you will find a moment of joy and forget the whole day was challenging. You don't need to feel guilty for feeling tired some days, you're human. Her progress doesn't solely rely on you, she will go at her own pace. Push her, but allow her to enjoy being a child. Follow her lead & be strong for her. Don't compare her life to others', it calls for a completely different set of rule. Learn to adapt quickly, learn to speak up for her. You can do this, you can be your angel's backbone when she is weak. While you can control many avenues in your life, this one isn't meant to be controlled. Her life is beautiful. Nothing can take away the love you have for her. Nothing! Don't beat yourself up</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> about trying to make everything perfect or easy for her- she's a tough cookie. You will never "fix" the cerebral palsy, but you can teach her to adapt to the best of her capabilities. You won't let CP own her. While you try to teach your daughter the smallest of tasks, she will be teaching you about the big picture. So, hold on tight and be prepared for the most amazing chapter of your life. </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Love, </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Yourself </span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ioHjLsbw6lI/Vun1wGrgkjI/AAAAAAAAARc/RstNtYESIoE/s640/blogger-image-1977217382.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ioHjLsbw6lI/Vun1wGrgkjI/AAAAAAAAARc/RstNtYESIoE/s640/blogger-image-1977217382.jpg"></a></div><br></div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><br></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1997279146804426027.post-5331832416484367302016-03-01T16:26:00.000-08:002016-03-03T20:37:28.169-08:00What does Mild Cerebral Palsy look like?<br>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7cq4mG8m2z8/VtYhfHdbbSI/AAAAAAAAAP8/V8XY7HptH00/s1600/12523163_10209124533489205_8885297308201395719_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7cq4mG8m2z8/VtYhfHdbbSI/AAAAAAAAAP8/V8XY7HptH00/s320/12523163_10209124533489205_8885297308201395719_n.jpg" width="320"></a></div>
<br><span style="font-family: inherit;">The following scenario has become an - almost daily - occurrence. M</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">y daughter and I will be out and about, running errands, shopping, what have you, and we get<i> the looks</i>. I like to think it's just because Fin is so cute. It's not just a regular stare, there's a curious expression behind it and I can feel when someone is about to engage me in </span><i style="font-family: inherit;"><b>the</b></i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><b style="font-family: inherit;"><i>conversation. </i></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"> The one that starts with, "How old is she?" (Which they are asking me because either I'm assisting Fin with walking or she's using her Kaye-Walker.) I say, "She's 2 and a half." Like clockwork they respond with, "Oh really? Why can't she walk? </span><b style="font-family: inherit;">She looks totally normal, you would never know something was wrong with her.</b><span style="font-family: inherit;">" I always smile (some days while fighting back tears) and look them in the eye as I decide on my response. I've said every different answer a special needs parent dreams of saying, it just depends on my mood that day; "Oh... and what does normal look like?" "Ha! Well thank you for the compliment?" "Aww, thanks. We're working on it." Like a deer learning to walk, I'm learning to walk in my role as an advocate. I realize these responses don't help anyone, and usually they just make people feel terrible. People mean well and I understand their intention. My child does not look stereotypically disabled. Which leads me to believe that its not common knowledge to </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">know</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> what someone with Mild Cerebral Palsy looks like. What do they look like? If it weren't for medical devices would anyone be able to tell? You simply cannot judge a book by its cover. I took this search to my Mild Cerebral Palsy Support Group and asked them to share pictures and a little background on their kiddos. I was blown away by the amazing responses and just how different everyone's situations are. We have so much to learn from each other in this life. My hope is to bring awareness to the Mild CP community. Did you know that Cerebral Palsy is the most common motor disability in children? It affects approximately 3 live births out of every 1,000 in the United States. </span><div>
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<span style="color: #6a6a6a; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-weight: bold;">Cerebral palsy</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> (</span><span style="color: #6a6a6a; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-weight: bold;">CP</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">) is a disorder that affects muscle tone, movement, and motor skills (the ability to move in a coordinated and purposeful way).</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #141823;">First, meet sweet Ava! She's 7 years old. Diagnosed at 4.5 years old with spastic Hemiplegia. Ava is twin 'B' born at 38 weeks. Ava was always developmentally behind and her mother suspected something but the Pediatrician would brush it off. At age 4</span><span style="color: #141823;"> she was still having frequent falls and still struggling with speech and social development. They were referred to PMR Doctor who confirmed Ava's diagnosis by MRI. Her Mama writes, "I'm so proud of her. She wants to do well and works so hard in school. Areas that are affected are behavior (ADHD), balance, stability, and endurance, learning and speech . She has been serial Casted and wears AFOs. She is in mainstream school but is pulled out twice a day by her special Ed teacher. She gets therapy in school PT, OT, and speech as well as privately after school 2-3 times a week. She is my hero and my Life!"</span></span><br>
<br><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-btaTOO6L__w/VteiXaGL1SI/AAAAAAAAAQo/XtuRrfz6CTw/s640/blogger-image-1603151671.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-btaTOO6L__w/VteiXaGL1SI/AAAAAAAAAQo/XtuRrfz6CTw/s640/blogger-image-1603151671.jpg"></a></div>Meet Stevie, she's a 2 (soon to be 3) year old ball of sass! She was born at 30 weeks after her mom spent 2 weeks on hospital bed rest because her water started leaking at 28 weeks. Weighing 3 pounds 11 oz, she spent 5 weeks in NICU until she reached a healthy 5 pounds. Stevie was not reaching certain milestones and the pediatrician would not officially diagnose her until 1 year. She was referred to a neurologist and was diagnosed with Mild Cerebral Palsy at 13 months old. At 14 months they started Early Intervention with Regional Center. Mom writes, "This was the best decision we had ever made. I truly believe Stevie is where she is today because of this program. A month into therapy Stevie was rolling over. Although she never crawled, she would scoot. She received Physical Therapy, Occupational Therapy and Speech. Stevie started walking unassisted a few days before her 2nd Birthday. Now that Stevie will be 3 next month we are transitioning out of the Early Start Program and into our local School District. Because of therapy, Stevie is so much more confident even though she has always been strong-willed. Stevie may have CP but this does not define her and definitely does not hold her back." <div><br>
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Meet this Mommy's little "Monster" who is almost 3 1/2 years old. This little guy was born 10 days early. At 20 months old he was sent for an MRI, he wasn't walking and could only communicate through sign. By 25 Months old he was walking in SMO's (Foot Braces). He is now trying to run! His mom writes, 'we were originally told to expect him to rely on a walker or device to walk and that he'll only use sign language. Well he proves them wrong Daily. He is my hero and I am so proud. He is now using 4 word sentences and goes to pre-k."</div>
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Meet this Mommy's Perfect Son, who is 6 years old. He was diagnosed at 6 months old and that's when he started wearing his glasses. He began to sit-up, roll, and crawl by the age of 2. He started walking, eating food, and talking at age 5. His Mommy writes, "I am very blessed that my [oldest] son is now doing a lot of things on his own."</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Meet sweet Callie who is 2.5 years old. Born at 36 weeks, due to preeclampsia issues with mom and was diagnosed with Mild CP at 14 months. She's worn glasses since 6 months old and walked independently around 18 months. She currently wears AFOs for toe walking. Mom writes, "Callie loves people with all her heart, she can light up a room with her smile. Raising a child with Mild CP may look difficult to others, but to us it's our normal."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">Meet Mason. 32 week preemie, twin 'A'. No issues in NICU except growing & learning to feed. At 4 months old he started private PT for torticollis (Right side, which we now believe was CP). At 8 months old, he still could not roll over and had very high muscle tone. Also kept Right hand in a fist much of the time. He was Diagnosed at 10 Months Old. He is about to turn 1 and can scoot on his butt, pull to stand, and is starting to babble more. Mom writes, "He has trouble feeding himself with his Right hand and is still very "tight" but most people would never notice anything different about him."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Meet, Naomi. She is 2 1/2 years old. She suffered a brain-bleed at birth. </span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: inherit;">She was diagnosed at 4 months old with mild left hemiparesis. She didn't crawl, but could "creep" or scoot around. At 14 months walked assisted with ankle braces "AFO's". She wore AFO and SMO braces until 28 months old and is now doing fairly well without them. She</span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: inherit;"> runs, walks, and climbs to keep up with her two brothers. Lots of bumps and bruises, lots of falls. Her coordination is affected by her CP, and so is her endurance. Mom writes, "Luckily daddy doesn't mind carrying her when she gets tired of keeping up with her siblings. Speech has been affected by her CP, and she works hard to make her wants and needs known."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: inherit; text-align: start;"> </span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: start;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: inherit;">Meet 3 year old, William. He wasn't using his left hand as much but met his milestones. We ended up getting a diagnosis of mild cp at 18 months old. Confirmed by MRI that he had a perinatal stroke. It effects his whole left side, but that doesn't seem to hold him back!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: inherit; text-align: start;">This is Benjamin! He was born at 39 weeks and weighed 7 lbs. 4oz.. He had a MRI done at 20 months because he kept his left hand in a fist almost all of the time and his left leg didn't act the same as his right. We suspected something was up much earlier, but got some pushback from his pediatrician. He sat up at 6 months, crawled at 9 months, and walked at 16 months. He is only affected on this left side (arm and leg) and has no other delays. He is 4 now and super smart and funny.</span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: inherit; text-align: start;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-matqhsN9MHw/VteggMFfyKI/AAAAAAAAAQc/zcFPclk8qKk/s640/blogger-image--1358102076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-matqhsN9MHw/VteggMFfyKI/AAAAAAAAAQc/zcFPclk8qKk/s640/blogger-image--1358102076.jpg"></a></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #141823; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sweet Noa was born 10 weeks premature, weighing 3lbs 4oz due to placental abruption. She stayed six weeks in the NICU and was intubated for the first two days. She was treated for a heart murmur and was a "feeder/grower" for the majority of the time. She had a few "spells" and was kept on caffeine for 5 weeks. At 1 year old, she still couldn't sit independently. Our doctor reassured us repeatedly that she was just behind. I pushed to get into a neurologist where she was quickly diagnosed with spastic diplegia. She has worn glasses since 11 months and AFOs since 15 months. She is 2 now and starting to crawl. She is incredibly ambitious and so funny. Cognitively she is fully capable and verbal. Her fine motor skills are beginning to catch up to her age. Mama writes, "Her resilience is jaw dropping and I admire her greatly. She is being fitted for a walker soon. Most days she wakes up and yells, "Shoes! I walk!" We look forward to seeing what she will surprise us with next."</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #141823; text-align: start;">This is Josiah! He is a 29 weeker, who along with his twin had a traumatic birth. He had a grade 3 brain bleed that eventually resolved but left some scarring. He was diagnosed with Mild Atypical Hypotonic Cerebral Palsy at 20mos old</span><span style="color: #141823; text-align: start;">. He struggled with head control, didn't sit up until 12mos and couldn't bear weight on his legs until he had AFOs at 11 months old. He took independent steps around the 16 month mark, and now at 28mos he wears AFOs to help with his pronation, foot drop, stability and endurance. He also has a weak core so he cannot sit up straight for too long. Mama writes, "he's happy and can keep up with his twin brother for short bouts and then he takes a break and is at it again! He's my heart!"</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #141823; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">Meet Aiden. He was born at 35 weeks and had a brain bleed that was found during a routine head ultrasound. A follow up ultrasound 5 weeks later found more fluid in his brain. His neurologist ordered an MRI, due to favoring a hand, spasticity in his hips, legs, and ankles, and low muscle tone in his core muscles. </span><span style="background-color: white;">At 6 months old his MRI confirmed a stroke at birth. The stroke </span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">left holes in the white matter of his brain and created PVL. Through hard work and lots of therapy Aiden walks. He still falls a lot and has coordination problems. Aiden is non-verbal and has been diagnosed with mixed expressive/receptive speech disorder, as well as, a language delay. He also has serious feeding issues. He wears bi-lateral AFOs to control toe-walking and sees pt/ot and speech therapists weekly.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; text-align: left;">This is Laney. She's just about to turn 4 years old. She has mild right hemiplegic cp. She's affected almost entirely in her right leg. She's not as fast as her peers and tires more easily, but other than that she's not much different from other kids. She's a twin and was born full term with an uneventful delivery. We didn't have a diagnosis for her until just before her 3rd birthday. My concerns</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #141823; display: inline; text-align: left;"> about her gross motor issues were largely ignored. It took a lot of follow up on my part to get her diagnosed. Her neurologist believes that the stroke which caused her hemiplegia, happened during the first trimester of pregnancy. I suspect it had something to do with the fact that she had a single umbilical artery.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Q8ypBDVF-eo/VteiYB2dVcI/AAAAAAAAAQs/g5SXsduGJmo/s640/blogger-image-1922889770.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Q8ypBDVF-eo/VteiYB2dVcI/AAAAAAAAAQs/g5SXsduGJmo/s640/blogger-image-1922889770.jpg"></a></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="text-align: start;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: inherit;">Meet Rowan. He was born on his due date at home as planned, but lifeless at birth. After a week of seizures, sepsis and organ failure in NICU with moderate hypoxic brain injury, he was diagnosed with CP. Now, at almost 2 years old he walks independently and can nearly run, even jump! He struggles with coordination and speed. He also struggles with gross and fine motor skills. He has no cognitive delays and says many words together. Unofficial diagnosis is "right-sided hemiplegic CP, level 1 on GMFCS scale."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is Madilynn. She is 18 months old. She was born full term, with many complications. True knit, chd, meconium aspiration, collapsed lung, hypoxic, hppn. She had her heart repaired at 19 days old and got MRSA. The MRSA went sepctic, which requires another OR visit for broviac line. She stayed in the NICU for 6 long weeks, and feeding continued to be an issue. She has no tube, but still has major feeding and swallowing. She also has speech problems. First neurologist diagnosed her with dyspraxia. She is hypotonic, right sided weakness, early hand preferance. She did have an MRI at 2.5 weeks old which was clear. She has a swallow study this month and a second opinion by anoth<span style="font-family: inherit;">er neurologist.</span></span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #141823; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Lastly,</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ztSBMhk25v0/VtYuM2jdTHI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gs73m426SLE/s1600/12321654_10209448915998565_4422928660855033531_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ztSBMhk25v0/VtYuM2jdTHI/AAAAAAAAAQM/gs73m426SLE/s320/12321654_10209448915998565_4422928660855033531_n.jpg" width="258"></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; text-align: start;"><span style="color: #141823;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Meet my Fin. She was born 9 weeks premature, which resulted in Brain Bleeds. It was a long journey to get her official diagnosis, at 15 months old, because her Pediatrician and Neurosurgeon brushed it off. She was delayed on her Milsetones, but one by one she continues to achieve them all! She has ZERO intellectual disability, so she can understand when someone treats her differently. She loves her Dance class and even rides horses as part of her therapy. </span></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; color: rgb(20, 24, 35);">Walking Independently is our next big hurdle, and every day she is - literally - one step closer. She motivates us to work hard for what we want, and to never give up hope when the "going gets tough". Her sweet spirit is simply the best & she rocks our world in the best way!</span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: start;">FOR MORE INFORMATION ON MILD CP PLEASE <u><a href="http://www.cerebralpalsysource.com/Types_of_CP/mild_cp/index.html">CLICK HERE</a></u></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: start;">IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO DONATE TO HELP KIDS WITH CP PLEASE <u><a href="https://donatenow.networkforgood.org/UnitedCerebralPalsy">CLICK HERE</a></u></span></div>
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<br></div></div>Fifi + Mohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16323295445174259752noreply@blogger.com50