wallamelon

breathing between the waves

One of my most favorite photographers, who also happens to be an excellent writer, wrote a blog entry today that really hit me. You MUST read it.

http://www.jasminestarblog.com/index.cfm?postID=629

i think its safe to say

That things are getting back to normal around here.

Yesterday morning before church I found Abby in her room laying over Carter drawing all over his body. I thought it was the non-washable crayola markers and so I yelled, "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! No No NO!" and Brian, thinking Abby might be hurt, came running from the other room in a panic. He about killed me when he realized that it was just washable marker.

abby's surgery

Thursday night we let Abby stay up late. She fell asleep at 10:30 on my lap as we were sitting on the couch, and I sat with her for a long time stroking her ear and talking with Brian about surgery. I've really been struggling this past week with all of this reality. I came to terms with her hearing loss a long time ago, but it seems like I'm having to accept it all over again. This surgery cements in my mind that she is deaf and life is going to be different after this. Plus the stress of her going into major surgery, and then knowing whatever hearing she had in that ear is now going to be GONE... It's a lot for me to swallow.

My mom and all four sisters came over to watch Carter and clean our house while we were away. (We've been alternating "spring cleaning" eachothers houses this summer and it was my turn.) None of my family lives close, except for one sister in McKinney, so it was a real sacrifice for them to get up super early and drive over an hour to get here. Carter had fun playing with his cousins and the girls scrubbed my house until it was gleaming. My mom and Suzy even bought us a new vacuum (what the what?!) because ours is so crappy. How embarrasing! I have, hands down, the BESTEST family in. the. world and I am forever grateful. Thank you all SO MUCH for helping us out. I love you!

Anyway, we got to the surgery center at 9am and didn't get into pre-op until 10:30. Abby had fun in the waiting room, but as soon as they opened the door to let us into pre-op, Abby freaked out. She realized at that point that this was the "doctor visit" we had been talking about to prepare her, and she wasn't too excited about it. We got her a toy and a video and she calmed down a bit, but not enough for the nurse to get her stats. So they gave her some silly juice, but it never kicked in, so they gave her something else, lortab I think, and she finally began to loosen up a bit.

I was strong up until they came in to get her. She screamed as they picked her up and I started to cry. This surgery wasn't a "necessary" option. It was a decision we made to better her way of life, and so it is much harder to feel good about sending your child off in this situation. So many times I wanted to back out of it, but I know it will be for the best.

The surgery went well. None of the risks involved (gusher, facial nerve damage, taste bud nerve damage, etc) happened, and the device was implanted successfully.

Recovery was crazy for Abby though. Imagine being taken away from your mom and dad and then being put to sleep. When you wake up, you're in a strange place with strange people, the left side of your head is throbbing, you have a huge red bandage wrapped around your head, and there are these things on your arms that won't let you bend them. I'm sure she felt like a caged animal, and from what they told us, she kinda acted like one too. So they gave her something to calm her down and make her sleepy and they brought us in. We waited for a bit and then woke her up. She was pretty upset about things, especially the "no-nos" on her arms, and so we decided to take them off and see how she would do without them. She immediately went for her bandage, but we threatened to put the no-nos on again and she decided not to touch her head anymore.

From start to finish we were there for seven hours. We got home around 4pm and Abby slept most of the rest of the day and all through the night. She kept her head brace on until 4am and I didn't argue with her when she took it off. (Ideally we were to take it off when she woke up the next morning.)

Today she was more herself, but VERY protective of her head. "Noooooo... Don't touch!" is her mantra today and I'm sure it will be until her swelling goes down. She doesn't seem to hate us thought, so that's good. The swelling is really bad. Her ear is sticking straight out, and her already full face is about twice its size on her left side. The pain seems to be managable though, and she was mobile and played around today, so things are slowly getting back to normal. Whatever that is now.

Her cochlear implant activation is in a few weeks, and until then she will only have her right ear to hear with. But that ear still works really great with a hearing aid, and so far she's been responding really well, so I'm relieved.

Thanks to everyone who has prayed for us and helped us through this big moment in our lives. We ask for your continued prayers as we go through this CI journey with Abby.

dear orville,

WHY did you have to go and make such irrestible kettle corn?

name game

So according to the Social Security Administration, the name Abby has consistently stayed in the top ten most popular names in the state of Texas for the last eight years. Carter doesn't even make the top 100.

So why is it that I don't know a SINGLE Abigail besides my own, and yet I have two friends with a toddler named Carter, I just found out my kids have a second cousin named Carter, and in the past week I have come across two more people with kids named Carter?

Granted, Carter was ranked number 65 in the US last year. But still.

We chose Carter's name because it is a family surname and we thought it was a little unique.

Oh well...

this has been my day

remember whensday

Has THIS ever happened to you?

ti-red

Just got back from our vacation to Utah. We're all still a little tired around here.

is it just me

Or does it seem like American's totally over use the word ABSOLUTELY.

Remember WHENsday

We've been a little nostalgic lately, reading through some of our old posts. This has been an eventful three years of blogging and its fun to remember some of the crazy stuff.

Remember this fiasco?

4th traditions

Growing up we would spend every 4th of July at my grandparents lake house in Benbrook. We would eat brisket and fried chicken, swim, and play pool in the house. There were no fireworks restrictions so at dusk all the men and kids would go out to the end of the dock and launch fireworks. And later, when I didn't care so much to be a part of the action, I would sit with the ladies on the lake front and watch fireworks go off all around the lake. Some of my fondest childhood memories are about the fourth of July at the lake. My Grandpa died several years ago, we sold the lakefront property and the tradition died. I miss those times.

Now that we have kids of our own, we want to starts some fourth of July traditions. I think one we might do is take the kids to the Fantastic Fireworks stand near our house. The stand is surrounded by a wheat field and it has so much character.






Abby and Carter had fun looking at the colorful boxes, as well as the colorful people. I think Abby spotted a dog in this picture, just not sure why they both look so disgusted.

happy 4th!

Hope your day is full of everything American!

broken

Last night I was reading a few postings on a cochlear implant message board and they were talking about how they told their child that he/she was deaf and how their children came to accept their hearing loss.

A few people responded by saying that they told their child that their ears were "broken" and a smart person made something to put in their ears to help them hear. For example, one lady said:

"I made it very simple.
From the time [my daughter] was very young I would tell her that she was born different.
That her ears were broken...and [the doctor] fixed them.
When she got a bit older i went into further detail and told her that broken also meant deaf.
That her ears do not work like mine.
That she needs the implants to make her hear and just like some people need glasses to see some people need hearing devices to hear."

What she said really hit me hard and I went into our bedroom and cried.

My kids are deaf.

My kids' ears don't work right.

My kids are different.

My kids will need hearing aids and CI's for the rest. of. their. lives.

.....And someday I'm going to have to tell them this.


It's been about two years since we've started our hearing loss journey. The diagnosis process with both kids was long and tearful, acceptance was naturally and expectedly hard, but eventually we came to terms with the hand that we've been dealt and have since had a very positive and optomistic attitude about it. This is our life, and we love it. I haven't cried about it in a very long time.

But last night, I felt like I was living it all over again.

First of all, the term "broken" makes me so sad. Abby and Carter are doing so well and are such NORMAL children, I've never honestly thought of them as broken. Delayed, yes. Broken, no. Last night, for the first time since maybe their diagnosis, I saw them as handicapped, and it overwhelmed me.

I don't want to think of them as broken. I don't EVER want Abby and Carter to feel like they are broken. I don't want other people to think they are different. I don't want Abby and Carter to feel different.

I don't want them to hurt.

But the fact of the matter is, regardless of disability, gender, ethnicity, social status, hair color, shoe size... every child is going to feel different. Every child is going to hurt. That's a part of life.

My job is to educate them about their hearing loss in a positive manner, give them confidence, and comfort them when they do hurt.

Abby and Carter are still too young to fully understand their inability to hear. But with Abby's CI surgery looming ahead, I know the time when Abby will understand is getting closer, and I dread the day when Abby will come to me with tears in her eyes and ask, "why am I different?" "Why can't I hear when I takes these off?" "Why do I have to wear things in my ears when other kids don't?" "Why did it have to happen to me?"

I'm not going to say:

"because you were born different."
"beause your ears are broken."

I hope that instead I will hold her and say, "because Heavenly Father gave you a unique challenge, and you are special."

And I hope that's enough.

maniacs

Abby and Carter lu-u-u-v-uh the water. So needless to say we spend a lot of time at our community pool. They love to jump, play in the splash park, Abby likes diving and jumping in the pool all sorts of ways, Carter swims with his face under the water now, and Abby and I are training for the first mother-daughter water gymnastics team. Abby is generally a very physically cautious person, but in the water she's confident and daring, so we've been trying out all sorts of wild stuff.

He never holds back.

I put this picture in to show Carter's default stance. He puts his hands on his belly and wiggles his fingers, and he does it all the time. SO CUTE.

I don't dare take my camera in the water, so unfortunately missed out on the crossed eyes and silly faces that she was giving Daddy.



This is her horizontal belly jump. I give it a 8.5 for form and a 9.75 for splash.