Friday, April 24, 2015

November Called: No Immunity for Superfans


Time to face the music…pun intended.

Welcome back! So it’s a longer one.  What do you expect after over a 2 year+ hiatus from blogging? I think it’s worth it though.

If you are not up for reading a bit this afternoon, let’s just use the album title to get the short list of questions answered:

The Answer is “Yes!”

  • Did you go see Jason Mraz again? YES
  • Was it a fantastic show? YES!
  • Is Bernie going to have her next open heart surgery soon? YES!
  •  Are you going back to Ann Arbor? YES, May 11 (cath lab May 13, operating room for 4th open heart surgery May 14 to remedy the obstructive tissue growth around her aortic valve known as “subaortic stenosis”.  We are not upgrading the size of her prosthetic mitral valve at this time.)    
  •  Are you expecting it to be difficult? Yes! Gone are the baby days of easy sedation and turnover to staff. She fully understands fear in this matter and talking her down for the simplest of procedures doesn’t really happen. She gets anxious about upcoming events that are either exciting or scary. Please do not discuss any of this with Bernie or talk about it “over” her in the room as if she’s not there.  


The tracks from the most recent Mraz album provide a perfect framework to explain our situation more in depth.  I will try to provide the right amount of history and background for those of you just getting to know us. Thanks for reading along.  And if it’s just a little too Mrazzy for you, that’s just too bad. You can skip to the parts in italics, but you might just miss how it all comes together in the end.  

 “Quiet”

It’s ironic that the perfect bridge back into blogging about Bernie is none other than Jason Mraz and my most recent attendance at his show in Detroit.  Maybe you remember the movie “Muriel’s Wedding” where the main character confesses: “My life is an ABBA song!” In my case, the musician of interest is again Mr. Mraz.  And it’s incredibly coincidental that my most recent concert-going experience and his newest album are precisely metaphoric of life with Bernie, where we are headed next, and an important lesson for us all to keep in mind (video at the end).

No news over the past couple of years is really good news in our case! Bernie ended her 4 years of preschool. In addition to her glasses, the biggest news is that Bernie started kindergarten this fall.  Jen’s (my Jason Mraz concert going pal) daughter Hattie Jo is also in Bernie’s class of 18 kids.  It’s been so wonderful to see them be part of the same educational experience as their other family members at the school (Hattie’s cousins also attend Woodland).  It’s great for them to have each other as well as many other meaningful relationships with their typical peers. When reviewing her evaluations with the team this fall, one of the women involved in the evaluation process professed, “She seems like something of a celebrity around here! One little boy in particular announces her arrival to school each day.” Would we expect anything different? She’s pretty famous, at least in our minds. Here are a few pictures of them as tots and at school this year.

"Hello, You Beautiful Thing"

“Long Drive”

In my last blog entry, I posted about the fabulous and meaningful time I had at the concert in Detroit on Jason Mraz’s  tour promoting the “Love” album.  You may enjoy revisiting it here. This most recent show, a culmination of Jason’s work with a very talented group of women called “Raining Jane, ” took a different twist as it was a more acoustic and relaxed concert at the Fox Theater in the heart of Detroit.  The album title of their work together: “Yes!” The album itself tells such a great story connecting the concept falling in love and its associated passion that then presses on to celebrate the beauty and deeper reward of staying in love and getting over the challenges. In my opinion, it’s intensely underplayed on the airwaves. Drive another 500 miles to see another show? Absolutely YES!

“How long do you think she will be in the hospital?” I wish there were clear answers on this.  The last time we knowingly admitted ourselves for heart surgery, staff told us we could expect to be in the hospital 10 days if all went according to the typical course of recovery. Bernie was in the hospital for 140 days.  However, this time, Bernie is not a 10-pound sick baby.  She is a strong, willful, and active 7 year old. We hope things will be different, but are preparing for months away from home, living at the Ronald McDonald House if we can get in. If everything goes perfectly, we could be home as early as Memorial Day weekend. We will follow Bernie’s lead. As the song states, “As long as I’m with you, we can take the long way.”

I continue to volunteer at Mott Children’s Hospital in Ann Arbor in a portion of my “free” time.  For the past 5 years, I have driven down monthly (7 hours, 500 miles roundtrip) to attend meetings and build the Patient and Family Centered Care program within the Congenital Heart Center.  I have helped design walls, weigh in on procedures, participate in administrative rhetoric, vocalize the needs of the center for patients and families, and co-chair a team of approximately 30 physicians, nurses, and staff from all disciplines to better ensure that the delivery of services dignifies the core values of patient and family centered care.  I am a true superfan of the pediatric cardiology and cardiac surgery programs. My connection to the program is important to me and to Bernie, but my reasons maintaining this role may not be what you think.  

“3 Things”
So this time we weren’t holding back.  Jen, Barb, Bonnie, and I bought our tickets during the fan presale and we went big.  Front row, Baby. Somewhat by accident in a serendipitous “Oops- I-doubled-your-budget-ticket-purchase” we wanted to be as close as possible.  It was a bit of a sticker shock, but it could not be disputed that it was money well spent.  Who cares if my decision to go back to work this fall was based upon my Jason Mraz habit?  If we were going big, I was going to pull out all the stops. There would be 3 things to set us apart from the typical fan: T-shirts for all, photo heads of the ladies in our group and Jason, as well as props and signage. Obnoxious? Probably, but no great love deserves to go unrecognized. And when it involves a public figure, well one has to be ready to knock it out of the park.

As this song mentions, “There are 3 things I do when my life falls apart”. 
1) Cry my eyes out
2) Close my eyes and be thankful, gathering strength from sorrow, be glad to be alive 
3) Pause, take a breath and bow, and let the chapter end.  Try again.  
At Bernie’s darkest hour, in July of 2008, this was exactly what I did and in the process, made a deal with the big guy upstairs.  I’ve not necessarily been very public about the events of that night of Sunday, July 27, 2008.  In short, in the darkest of nights, I hit rock bottom.  Bernie was barely staying alive. She could not even be touched without experiencing cardiac arrest.  I asked God to define our path more clearly. In short, through streams of tears and the loudest crying sobs since I remember as a child, I told God that if she had to go back to him, then take her.  I wasn’t sure how to fight any longer. It had been 9 months in and out of 3 hospitals across the state. I also told him aloud in that dark and lonely Ronald McDonald House room that if she were to live, I would serve however I was called. I believe in a balanced deal.
The very next morning, I woke up and went back to Bernie’s bedside and this happened:

 An invitation to service came from the Congenital Heart Center in a letter almost one year to the day of that night. My duty as a parent advisor began. 



“Love Someone”
How perfect was the “Michigan Love” t-shirt on our first Detroit show? For the “Yes!” tour, I knew exactly what t-shirt we needed to deliver to Jason: “Say Yes! To Michigan”.  And Raining Jane would get some as well. We would not only profess our love for their music with t-shirts, however.  I was determined to make this a night to remember. I made poster sized faces of Jason and my crew of ladies and duct taped them on paint stir sticks.  Profile poster faces of each of us smooching could be aligned with Jason’s face so he could witness our enthusiasm for him and his music more concisely. I printed the album covers image on patches we pinned to our own “Say Yes! To Michigan” shirts. Garden gloves, a PGA “Quiet” sign, and a trucker hat were all other props with careful thought behind them to be exhibited at the appropriate time during the show. We even sent Jason a “preview” of our excitement via Facebook.

It’s hard to know what to do with all of the t-shirts from the hospital over the years. For Congenital Heart Defect Awareness Week this past February, I decided to slice and dice my collection into a skirt.  I wore it to the awards ceremony I attended as the administrators of the Congenital Heart Center accepted the University of Michigan Health System “Program of the Year” award.  A big deal!  The skirt was a hit and clearly just one small example of the enthusiasm many have for the excellence exhibited by the army of people who heal kids with broken hearts there. If any group of people deserve to be shown love and enthusiasm, they do.  They see families at their roughest times and often at their worst.


“Rise”
We arrived at the Fox Theater on Thursday, November 6 promptly at 7pm.  We had stopped by earlier to snag this shot with the marquis.  After some fun at the hotel, we headed out for a quick bite to eat before the show. We were excited!

We headed through the crowd to our seats.  By 7:10 or 7:15, I decided to get up and retrieve Jen and I (Barb and Bonnie were a few rows back and to the side) one more beverage before the show started. When I returned, Jen had a look of utter disbelief and sadness on her face. “You missed him,” was all she could muster at the moment.
“Missed what?” I needed clarification.
“He was out here.  I gave him the shirt.  I didn’t know what else to do.”
My heart sank. I clearly missed out. It was my own damn fault. I was a little too thirsty.
“You did what you had to do.  I am glad you got it up there.” I told her.  And I was glad she got it to him.
 “Everyone cheered when they saw the shirt. He held it up for everyone to see.”
My heart sank a little deeper.
“I am sad,” I told her. “But what else? Did you shake his hand? Hug him? Selfie? What? Tell me more. I need to know.”
“He came onstage and even asked for the “creepy heads” you made.”  I could have started crying easily.
“Well, other people brought him stuff also.  That girl over there brought him a shirt. And she actually got her picture with him.” She wasn’t trying to rub it in.  I was prying to know all the details to at least construct the memory in my head.
                Before we knew it, the show had started.  I tried to pop out of this disappointment and the only way to really do that was to get up and dance and enjoy the music.  Jen and I had to move on and enjoyed what we came all this way and paid all this money to see.
                But not for long. As if the first leg of disappointment was not enough, I felt something hit my back. I looked down.  Garbage.  Yes, someone was throwing trash at me. Talk about degrading.  I turned around to see where it came from.  Most everyone in the entire Fox Theater was sitting down. Ugh. Some woman a couple of rows back then leaned forward and gave me a talk about sitting down.  Clearly no dance party happening now.
                The people in “the pit” in front of us continued to dance, one by one starting to sit down.  The ushers were seeing to it. One girl, ironically the one who got her picture with Jason after delivering her t-shirt, was even escorted from the theater. Kind of made me glad Jen and I chose to calm it down. We did get to see the show. And of course the music was amazing.

Later in November, Bernie had her 6-month ECHO at Mott.  We showed up and made our usual rounds, saying hello to staff and giving out hugs when appropriate. We waited a while to get back to our bed space so Bernie can meet the anesthesia team (sedation doesn’t get us where we need to go anymore). I accompany her on the bed back to one of the cath lab rooms and we get the mask on her.  She goes to sleep.  
Our latest ECHO revealed a new number regarding her pressures that indicates we need to get more serious about addressing Bernie’s sub-aortic stenosis.  Essentially, what we’ve thought was falsely elevated is actually closer to the truth.  We decided the surgery needs to happen.  Bernie will be admitted to Mott on Monday, May 11.  She will have her fourth open heart surgery.  We will not be replacing her mitral valve, but will essentially be performing a “roto-rooter” job on her aortic valve to allow for better blood flow to lower the pressures in her heart.

“Out of My Hands”

I did everything I felt I could to personalize and set up for the most amazing Jason Mraz concert experiences I could possibly have. If I knew of a way to meet him, trust me, I would have tried.  I love his music and everything he stands for. I am a true superfan for life. I sang every song with complete admiration and tried to put the heartbreak and humiliation in the evening behind me.  There was only so much I could do to make it the night I wanted it to be. But this concert experience and Jason’s music had some very important lessons to reteach: The importance of living in the moment. My quest for that extra beverage prevented me from potentially experiencing one of the most awesome moments of my concert going memories. Why couldn’t I just be happy watching the pre-concert hubbub on the main floor of the theater? I wasn’t appreciating all there was right there, right then.  I thought I needed something else. It was that whole idea that “oh, just one more beverage, and it will all continue to be fabulous.” Um…what the heck did I name this blog?! Shouldn’t I already know better?!

Whose hands is it in then? You may wonder…now that you have “crossed the line” with her heart surgeon and have a personal relationship, will she still operate on Bernie? Should she still operate on Bernie? Totally fair questions and ones we have all thought through. We chose Dr. Jennifer Romano (formerly Hirsch) as our daughter’s heart surgeon first. We feel confident she is our best choice and know that the person who has such a heart history with her is the one who knows her best. In the event that emotions take the wheel at any given time and prevent a clear pattern of thought with regard to the procedure (it has happened to other surgeons in the past), Dr. Rick Ohye will also be available to step in and perform or assist with the surgery if need be.  The truth of the matter is, I am close to many people who work at the Michigan Congenital Heart Center and I consider quite a few people like family.  We are all entering into this next experience with personal connections that I believe will make her care team even stronger. I honestly believe that our personal connection with each other is what enabled Bernie’s life to be saved that Monday morning in July. It made the team dig deeper, work harder, and consider possibilities they would not have considered otherwise.  And she’s here today.

“Best Friend”

This is a lovely song for those of us who were granted only one spot for one friend who is perceived as the singularly ultimate relationship. I do love the gratitude expressed in this song for relationships and what people actually do for each other in those tight bonds of friendship, but in my world, one relationship cannot ever be everything. Sorry, Jason.  I suppose marriage is right up there, but even a spouse shouldn’t be expected to be one’s singular source of happiness and meaning.  Our humanness drives us to connect in lots of ways with lots of people.  

I pray that the slight fraction of issues that can result from having these relationships doesn’t work against us.  It’s similar to when a person claims “a best friend”.  I strongly dislike that term. I even discourage my kids from using that phrase.  Why? It’s exclusive.  It suggests that no one else can get in or get as close and nor should they really try because it’s already been determined that there is just one person who can know and love you best as a friend.  My answer to that?  Have close friends and as many as you want.  Friendship should not be competitive.  It’s cooperative between two people.  You can have as many close friends as you can handle in different, concentric circles and for different reasons.  Every person who enters your life has some significance and it’s up to you to figure out which circle fits your relationship the best. 

This goes for the care team.  There will not be one person who is solely responsible for fixing Bernie’s heart or seeing to her recovery.  This is very much a team sport. No assumptions can be made that one doctor, one nurse, or one family member will have ultimate significance. But as we all have roles, we all will also have a responsibility to see that Bernie gets what she needs when she needs it and our communication as a team will define her recovery.  There will be no “best friends”, but a close team who will effectively communicate to maintain the highest levels of dignity and respect.

 “Back to Earth”

This song really relays the importance of grounding oneself when life gives you the business.  Here are the first couple of verses:
Whenever my head starts to hurt
Before it goes from bad to feeling worse
I turn off my phone
I get down low
And put my hands in the dirt

I try to stop the world from moving so fast
Try to get a grip on where I'm at
AND simplify
This dizzy life
And put my feet in the grass

Grounding will be important for me and our immediate family in the next few weeks.  I know the stress of all of this feels just wretched. It’s intense. It’s as though I am preparing for combat.  I will be packing up, leaving home, and getting ready to once again fight this disease so many thousands of kids each year are born with.  I am trying to work out, eat well, get massages, and organize my house fanatically as one might when they are pregnant and nesting. I am trying to soak up all those little moments of kids coloring at the dining room table, running around playing circus in the yard, and laughing together about farts. Sometimes I wonder: What if she doesn’t come home? Because it does happen. I spent too much time there and saw too much the last time not to know this.  Bernie herself was as close as one can get to parting ways with this world.  I need to look at what I have in front of me today and be happy.  Celebrate every second. I need to face the coming weeks with strength.  And pray for the best hoping God has an extended lending period in mind for Bernie.

“Shine”

After the show, our group headed over to The Old Shillelagh in Detroit. It was incredibly clear where we had been.  We started talking to some people at the end of the bar who were also at the concert.  They told us their entire family of about 70 people went to see the show.  How curious! It turns out that they were family of Christina Carano, the woman currently dating Jason, who happens to be from Berkley/Royal Oak area but lives in San Diego now.  They told us how their grandmother who lives by our horse camp (apparently somewhere in her late 80s or even 90s) even came to the sound check that afternoon and had her picture taken with Jason.  Talk about an evening to meet the family! Clearly they could tell Jason has superfans!

The big kids asked how the concert was the next night I was home.  I told them the story.  Izzy even said, “Mom, that’s so sad! You worked so hard on all of that.” From that was born their own Jason Mraz (Sadie is Jason) performance-with Izzy as Mona(right) and Lucy as Chaska (left) from Raining Jane-which made me laugh so hard. Enjoy!

Although we are faced with negative experiences and adversity, I love the way the human spirit consistently finds ways to shine the right kind of light through to make better meaning of relationships and point us in a forward and positive direction. It’s not always the way we think it should be, but if we wait long enough we usually see the reasons and importance for things happening to us the way they do. Jason Mraz’s music does that for me and I am so grateful to him for his work.  What a gift. Honestly, Jason if you ever in a million years take the time to read this, thank you so much from the bottom of my heart. 

My gifts from you all have come in many forms over the years as being part of Bernie’s care community.  As this next leg of our journey commences, I reflect back on all of the light you sent our way seven years ago and consistently in our daily lives.  I think we had meals delivered to the house for the better part of a year, endless messages, prayers, and comments on our care page (carepages.com, cp: BernieCarsonSmith) and countless kindhearted acts of love directed at our family. If you never knew us during that time, it was truly amazing.  It’s just another example of how Bernie enables us to see such good in the world.  Bernie has given us our own rose colored glasses in a sense. It’s like she passes them out to everyone who gets to know her.  Oh, except for all of you at Mott who are about to poke her. I apologize in advance if she even tries to hit you. Please know that her light really does shine brightly as evidenced in this video encapsulating her year in kindergarten and reminding us of the importance of living in the moment!** And of course this Jason Mraz song fills the bill most perfectly.

“You Can Rely on Me”

Being a superfan of anything doesn’t make you better than anyone else or make you more appreciative than any other fan.  It doesn’t mean you get better treatment. It just makes you more vulnerable.  But you are willing to be press on because you realize the amazing things that happen when you show love to others without letting the other less important stuff get in the way. You soak up the glory and take the pain a little more publicly and maybe more personally than you otherwise might.  Just like being Mraz superfan did not protect me from some heartbreak and humiliation at the concert, being a superfan of the CHC does not protect me or our family from the inherent risks and difficult path that accompany pediatric cardiac surgery.  It’s important for me to recognize the struggles and celebrations that go along with all of this as a way for you to stay informed and for me to process all that is happening.  It grounds me. You can rely on me to update our care page (with a link to this blog) so check it at any time and know that if you have supportive messages, it is always worth your time to write them down. Your words of encouragement and acts of love and kindness are always appreciated way more than you may think.  

Our door at the hospital will always be open unless otherwise noted on this blog.  If you’d like to send Bernie a letter or care envelope/package our address will be: 

Bernice Carson Smith (patient)
Michigan Congenital Heart Center
1540 E Hospital Dr
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
 Thanks for the love!!

**There are a million other edits I would make to this if I knew how to use my new video software better.  You will get the idea...

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Jason Mraz and the Battle Hymn of the Hospital Mom

So I made an effort to end the summer on an absolute personal high note by driving a ridiculous number of hours to go see one of my favorite singer/performers: Mr. Jason Mraz.

 After months of petitioning friends and pestering pals to go to the concert in Detroit from Traverse City, I found a taker. Remember Bernie's friend, Hattie Jo? Well,  Hattie Jo's mom, Jen, and I made the trek. Another trip to the Detroit area? In the summer?  Most in the north find that a preposterous idea. After all, we do live in the most beautiful place in America and to leave to go downstate is somewhat blasphemous, especially if you're not going to visit family or attend a majorly personal event. Didn't matter.


We were going. And while our kiddos find great satisfaction in hanging out together, so do we.



So what the heck does a Jason Mraz concert have to do with Bernie and life with a kid with Down syndrome and all of the other subsequent issues? Quite a bit actually and not really at all what I was thinking in initially making plans for the trip. First of all, moms who have kids with Down syndrome have a great outlook and get out to do some pretty cool things. We have friends everywhere. Worlds again ended up colliding as high school pals, Black River pals, Traverse City pals, new friends, and even a Mott employee or two came together to listen to the joyful musical wisdom of Mr. Mraz in Detroit at the end of August.



It's no secret amongst parents of kids with Down syndrome that, contrary to the name itself, these kiddos have the propensity to help us find incredible joy in the world beyond that of our more typical children once you get over the shock that so many seem to get stuck in. They are immensely capable of reminding us of the simple, small stuff that really matters.



And the music of Jason Mraz is in the same light. His music is positive, well written, composed to include a range of styles and vocal skills, sometimes has a shock or two to make you think or giggle, and leaves you with your toes tapping and your voice singing along.  You leave at the end of the concert wondering what the heck could really have been wrong in the first place and with a greater appreciation of everyone and everything around you.  If you're not smiling when you leave, then you need to just go see him or listen to him more often. Kind of reminds me of Bernie. As my dad says, "If she can't make you smile and melt your heart, then there's something wrong with you." I have to say I agree...

For those of you who are not super Mraz fans like Jen and I, this tour was to celebrate Jason's lastest "Love is a Four Letter Word" album.  We even bought Jason a Michigan Love t-shirt to give to him at the concert (click here for the M-22 store to order. You will not see these shirts on sale online yet for some reason, but maybe this article in the Wall Street Journal about them may help you know why). Thanks to the guys at the M-22 store for the discount and enthusiasm for our plan to give Jason this shirt. We both agreed to put on the capes of our less inhibited and bolder inner 18-year-olds and come hell or high water, we were going to get this shirt to him on stage.

The couple who took our picture with the shirt before the concert seemed to think we were a little crazy and disillusioned in thinking we were going to hand deliver this shirt to him during the show. The security guards tried to tell us another way to get the shirt to him, but that really was not going to work.  We drove a total of 500 miles to see this show. They just didn't understand.

And dance. Boy did we dance. We seemed to have super springs in our feet that even the people who were front row and center stage did not possess.  I think Jason Mraz appreciated our super spirit for he shot us a few glances of gratitude immediately into the first songs when everyone else just kind of stood there waiting for the "big hits".

He plays center stage and stage left. About 3/4 of the way through the show he approaches stage right with a chair. He began a little dialog about how the shape of the state of Michigan is so awesome because it's like the "high five of America".  He sat down to play a nice mellow tune. This was the opportunity to get that shirt on stage if there ever was one. The security guard denied me access around my row of seats to get closer and told me I was NOT going to give Jason the shirt in my hands. Just another person who did not understand. On to Plan C.

The ladies in the one row blocking us from being immediately in front of Jason agree to let us climb over their seats. Remember the inner 18-year-olds? One of these nice ladies told us that she just bought a bumper sticker with that "Michigan Love" logo the weekend before. We had her vote. Onward and over!

The song was in the last few lines and I got close enough to launch the shirt on the floor right in front of his guitar. Boom! He looks down and studies what has landed before him. As people clap at the end of the song, he picks it up and exclaims to all 15,000 people, "Look, it's a shirt with a high five!" He then looked right at me and said, "Thank you so much!" and did the same in sign language. All of the musicians and band members came out to sing "Hidden Track" right there on stage right while I lifted off to cloud nine. Sorry, there are no photographs of him with the shirt except for below during the "Hidden Track" performance. Right there next to his left foot. I just enjoyed the moment. And it was awesome. Or as any Mraz fan would sing along: A-W-E-S-O-M-E.




But then Jason was suddenly overshadowed. Sorry. He was. Even after all that with the shirt. In that one row of seats in front of us and next to those two nice ladies who let us climb over their seats was a young girl with special needs and her family.  She was obviously wheel chair bound for her dad held her the entire concert and for whatever reason, her wheel chair was not part of the concert landscape. This was a big deal for their family because I noticed her earlier in the concert and there were many photos being taken. I even made eyes with her at one point in the show and told her how happy I was that she was there.  I think I even signed "I love you to her" because I could see such happiness in all of their faces for which I held her fully responsible. She kept reaching back for me and looking at me, smiling. Their family was there enjoying the show because of her. And from what I understand within my own secret society, they were truly there to celebrate.



Jason came out for the encore, and yes, as I said, he was overshadowed as he played for all 15,000 of us. It was his song "I Won't Give Up".  Maybe you've heard it. At first listen, the song sounds like it's just about the dedication of a man to his wife or girlfriend who believes in their relationship, but after listening more, it's wildly interpretive. Here are the lyrics. It's inspiring. The hospital mom inside me heard this song and saw this family all holding hands, swaying and singing (as documented in the above photo) and watched with singularly focused joy for them. She told the 18-year-old to cool her jets and pay attention. The determination it can take to get down the road with a child with special needs can be difficult, but, wow, so worth it. I mean, look at the dad. He's SO happy!

And those people who took our photo with the t-shirt before the concert? They found us afterward in the parking lot and were so excited we actually did it. Jen went back to the M-22 store here in Traverse City and told them of our successful mission. Everyone in the store gave her a high five.

I close with a portion of the lyrics from that last song, "I Won't Give Up" or otherwise titled "Battle Hymn of the Mom Who Has a Child with Special Needs"...

I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily
I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make

Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use the tools and gifts we got Yeah, we got a lot at stake
And in the end you're still my friend, at least we did intend for us to work
We didn't break, we didn't burn
We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in
I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not
And who I am.

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up
Still looking up...

I won't give up on us
God knows I'm tough, He knows
We've got a lot to learn
God knows we're worth it

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up...
 
Keep looking up!  We'll have a report on the big 5th birthday coming up in a few weeks as well as Bernie's next echo on October 9 back at Mott. Thanks for reading along.

A new blog update. Click here.

Friday, July 13, 2012

Secret Society Love at the Beach

It was never my intention to go to the beach to make a burly grown man cry as a result of our family's presence, but it happened the other day. You just never know what you're going to get at any given public outing and especially when Bernie's in the mix.

We arrived at our favorite local state park beach later in the afternoon earlier this week. The big girls grab their goggles and swim out as far as they can to practice underwater somersaults in the deeper water. Bernie has other plans. She scopes out everyone else's toys. The "beach hawk", as we call her, was in full effect and there was no stopping her as she spied a large green turtle swim ring.

It sat behind a bench where an apparent grandfather sat with his baby grandson. Bernie grabs it and starts running for the water. I intercept. We put it back, apologize, and before I walk away, I hear the man ask me a question.

 "What's her name?"
 "Bernie," I say with a smile.
"Oh, my daughter, too," he gets out with a slight stutter.
"Is her name Bernadette or Bernice?" I ask to clarify the name potential commonality.
"Oh, no. She had Down syndrome," he explains.

 His use of the past tense does not scare me or make me uneasy.

 "Your daughter passed away?"

"Her name was Chrystal. We raised her until she was 20 when she died from a blood clot during a routine surgery to remover her adenoids. Seeing you with your daughter just reminds me of her so much. Tears keep running down my face as I watch you with her out here on the beach. I'm crying like a baby behind these sunglasses."

 I gently touched his shoulder and thanked him for sharing. I think I even shared a "Bless you" even though it was far from a sneeze that I heard. Bernie starts running for the water again and we both know I have to follow.

 "It's the greatest love there is," the man said to me in parting.

 I flashed him a look and a smile that let him know I understood and validated this "secret society love" we share. And he's totally right. Even though much of the world may not understand this kind of love, for that moment, he and I did. And no matter the outcome of his daughter, knowing that love has made all the difference in our lives.

We will be back with a report on our next Ann Arbor visit scheduled for October 9.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Friday the 13th? Our Story's Prequel

Five years ago today was the day. Friday, April 13, 2007.  I picked up a pregnancy test from the corner drug store and came back to the same bathroom in which I received the news with my other two pregnancies.  I thought about whether or not I should do this on a day like Friday the 13th. Should I wait a day not to have that stigma of this "unlucky date"?  My inability to postpone the gratification of knowing got the best of me. I tore open the wrapper, checked the kinds of lines I was looking for on the box and proceeded to seek results. There it was. Confirmed. New life in the works.
The actual test is now more or less a Christmas tree ornament. Yes, all of those special tests are with us.
I do not consider myself a superstitious person, but from that point forward, however, a strange set of situations arose and would continue to unfold for exactly one year. This was also consequently the 13th year  Jeff and I had been  together after our first date on June 4, 1994. Here's the shakedown.

Our dear dog Fergus, a now oafy and perfectly complacent Labrador,  decided he would roam the neighborhood. After many fence repairs and efforts to make sure 3 little people could not mess with our two gates, he still found a way to lose his collar in the yard and get out,  managing to get picked up by animal control for the bargain price of $125.00.  Talk about angry! The city would want to charge us that amount as well until I appeared before the magistrate with the girls and pregnant belly to dispute the situation. Thankfully, I got out of it and by the next day had an appointment to have the dog neutered. He certainly learned not to mess with me after that day and has been nothing but charming ever since.

 He looks totally innocent here, doesn't he?


There were surprising issues with friends that arose that reminded me of those girly drama days in 8th grade causing hours of tears and frustrations. Certain family members made it clear they only wanted particular conditions attached to their relationships with our family. I was trying to work a part time job to have a little extra spending money.  This was a very isolating time and despite my efforts to send smoke signals of distress from "my island," I really felt like many of the boats of friends and family were just floating by waving under the assumption that I was teaching my kids about fire. Perhaps all of those hormones had something to do with it, but even in retrospect, this was an extremely emotional time with a lot of negativity and sadness seeping into my life.

It was weeks later that I received word from a friend that her sister who had three small children suddenly died after putting the kids to bed one night. The circumstances of her death eluded friends and family. There was no warning. This beautiful mother was suddenly gone from her children and husband and family forever as she sat down to check her email after a long day. Having lost my brother at a young age in an equally tragic situation in the same town, I was compelled to support her and attend the funeral. It was heart wrenching. I came away from the funeral in awe of all that moms do and all that is gone when they aren't able to be there for their families. It would later be revealed that this mom died of a congenital heart defect, unknown to her family until too late. The question hung heavily over my head: What happens when something happens to us as mothers of young children?

I took this question back to my support circle of moms who regularly got together every Monday. They were great. They knew I attended the funeral and the circumstances and it was totally fitting for me to explain this experience. My friend Julie piped up in the midst of my tears. She had battled breast cancer and was in remission.  Her words echoed like organ pipes in an empty sanctuary, "Missy, you would be amazed." This statement was followed by what I remember as a silence. Along with it, the definitive understanding that it is those of us who sit amongst you will rise to the occasion in compassionate and giving ways you just can't even imagine until you really need it.  She conveyed the need for us to just trust that if support is needed, support will be there.  Julie has since lost her battle with cancer, but her words remain with me to this day.

By this time in the year it is August of 2007. That part time job I had taken ended with an attack on my character which I found incredibly offensive and quit. Something I don't like to do, but my sanity needed it.

Word came to me days later that one of my former students was out shopping with her mother and a terrible thing happened. The mom dropped dead unexpectedly in the store as they shopped for a movie to rent for the night. I knew her fairly well from typical school interactions for years. She was the fun-loving and involved mother of three school-aged girls and died of a heart attack in the middle of the day doing ordinary things. It was another funeral to attend and more kids to worry about how they would manage without their mother.  This was getting really difficult.

Within days after this, I came home after taking the kids on a bike ride.  Jeff was out of town so it was essential that I kept the kids busy and outside as much as possible to ensure maximum time in the arms of Morpheus. The twins were 2 at the time and Izzy was 3. Sadie could ride in the seat on the back of the bike while Izzy and Lucy rode in the bike trailer as their pregnant and breathless mama pedaled and pedaled. And wasn't my motive in doing this to make them tired? It was all good though.



Until we got home. I set the children free from the confines of the bike seats and let them play outside while I got something quick and easy out for dinner. I no sooner set a pot of water boiling on the stove when Sadie and Izzy came screaming from around the house. They were frantic and completely panicked, running and flailing through the yard by the time I caught up with them. It wasn't long before I realized that they were being swarmed by bees.

I had no idea if they were allergic to bee stings or not. Bees were crawling out of their shirts and pants and flying around us even after coming inside. I stripped off all of their clothes and examined them for stings. No one seemed to be puffing up, but it was hard to tell with so much crying and screaming happening.   They were starting to swarm around me. I carried the girls from one room to the other hoping to eventually get away from the bees. I quickly called my friend Jen to help me get a handle on the situation. I had no idea how many there were at the time, but when all was said and done and things calmed down, I think I counted between 12 and 18 dead bees in the house up cleaning up. That was just what made it inside the house! Sadie ended up with about 5 stings and Izzy with 7.  I even found a dead bee in my wallet the next morning at church as I reached for an offering. I didn't need to do that again any time soon.

The more well known part of that year's story then began to unfold the next month, as previously documented on this blog and the care page. September 17 would be the day my concerns would shift from all that had happened over the summer to caring for a premature baby, coming to understand Down syndrome, and really getting hammered with ultimately 3 open heart surgeries on our sweet little baby who had so many strikes against her. By May of 2008, we would be home for a while.

But the 13th year was not over yet. In that very beginning of June, 2008, I was diagnosed with my own permanent and irreversible autoimmune disease. With daily medication and attention to the symptoms, it's pretty manageable from everything I understand thus far. Who wants to hear that though? Aye.

Even though Bernie's heart issues fired up again in the next month, the 14th year began on June 4, 2008. Her next surgery worked and monumental hurdles were jumped.  The kid made history in lots of ways. 

 A portion of the new children's and women's hospital brochure. Happy Bern is in the lower left corner...
Facing all of these events, circumstances, and situations within such a concise period of time does seem a bit uncanny and considerably undesirable at first glance.  And tragedy? I'd never wish it upon my worst enemy. But it happens and we have to eventually persevere. Was all of this just plain unlucky this first year? Who knows. Now that I have had 5 years to digest these events, I see a bigger picture. If you can just get through it, what blooms after such an intense storm has tremendous beauty.  And Julie was right. I was totally amazed at who showed up to see us through. Those blossoms are that much more beautiful because of the endured storm it took for it all to eventually take root. Bernie didn't come into our lives on Friday the 13th. She existed weeks before. That day to me now is more like the knock of the big bad wolf of adversity blowing down my door bringing torrential rain, gale-force winds, and electrical mayhem that was begging me to prepare.  But what blossomed in recent years is beautiful, dynamic, and just as strong, if not stronger than any of those other damaging forces. Our children are more compassionate and patient (most of the time), our marriage is stronger than ever, and it's easier on a daily basis to prioritize what bees are worth having in our bonnets. We just had to hold on and trust.

Bernie and Lucy read Kelle Hampton's new book about her journey through her daughter's first year of life with Down syndrome. It just made #11 on the NY Times Bestseller list this week!  Pick it up! 
P.S. You may see the above photo on Kelle's blog "Enjoying the Small Things" soon if you're a follower.

I'd face all of it all over again.  To be able to see and have what's come about as of today makes all of those other events worth facing. People are amazing. Each person who became known to us along the way, no matter how insignificant their acts may seem, was part of this transformation--my transformation--by a greater love to know and understand the big and small stuff that matters and the forces that truly make life grand.

Thank you for five incredible years. I am one LUCKY lady. Happy Friday the 13th! And how strange...I just realized this is the 13th post on this blog!



Thursday, February 16, 2012

A Little Winter Video Ditty

Happy winter, Friends...

We are excited to share Bernie's latest and greatest episodes in the form of a little video today. Enjoy!


Swiftie Sisters, the Swindler, and a Bedroom Fit for a Teen

Happy World Down Syndrome Day! March 21, 2024 Unlike becoming a parent of neurotypical children, parents of children with Down syndrome must...