The Adventures of My Sammie B and Our Little Family

These Magic Moments

2012-01-26T22:29:00.000-08:00

A few of my favorite moments of the last week or so:

- Sammie B has been calling out to me (e.g., to summon me to her room when she wakes up in the morning or after a nap) as "Sammie B's mama!" I dig it. There's no one's mama I'd rather be.

- Sammie B has an Obama shirt that she wears, and whenever we put it on her, she says "OBAMA!" (And my republican father's heart broke when she said THAT WORD before she'd said "Papa!") The other night, B told her he was going to watch TV because "Obama is going to be on TV," and she said, "OH MY GOD!" in the most excited voice. She wanted to watch it with him, and was so excited. About 5 minutes into it though, she looked at B and said, "No, Elmo" (indicating she wanted to watch Sesame Street instead). She stuck it out though, watching with her dada and clapping when the crowd did!

- Sammie B's new love for hugging her sister. And doing things to make her sister smile. Like making monkey noises. Can't get enough of my big girl trying to make my little smile.

- B had a meeting the other night so I was home with both girls. I decided we'd try doing story time and having Sammie B sitting on her potty (she peed . . . we are so not really "training" at this time, but just exposing her and trying to gauge her ability to know when she has to go and whether she gets that 'got to go' feeling and how much control she has, all concerns that come from low muscle tone). Anyway, I put Mia in a little bumbo-type seat next to Sammie B and they just kept staring at each other. Then, I started reading a book and they both just lit up and looked at me. I had one of those take-your-breath-away-how-did-I-get-here-are-they-really-mine-I'm-so-lucky moments!

We started a new vitamin supplement for Sammie B recently (CoQ10 and L-Carnitine, which has long been part of the "cocktail" of vitamins for people with mitochondrial disorders, but has recently been shown to help some people with hypotonia/low-tone more generally; our pediatrician said there was no reason NOT to give it a shot so we have). In the last week, FOUR of Sam's therapists have commented that her body just FEELS stronger. I'd felt it too, but it is a little harder to recognize for me because I'm with her every day and I knew she was on this new supplement, and like any mother, I am hoping for an effect. I purposely didn't tell any of her therapists about the new supplement, hoping that their opinion (if they noticed a change) would be a more accurate assessment than mine, which admittedly could be a placebo effect kind of thing. So, anyway, her adaptive PE teacher commented, then one of her PTs who had not seen her in a few weeks, then the PT who does her hippotherapy who had also not seen her in two weeks, then her swim teacher. Coincidence? Maybe, but we'll TAKE IT!

On the heels of that . . . check this out . . .

Standing, supporting/balancing herself with JUST ONE HAND while doing something with the other (I should note that we have the stroller wedged up against something so that it couldn't roll) but no one is helping her do this and she looks AWESOME! She did the same thing the next day at school on one of the play structures. Right now, it is just for a matter of seconds but amazing progress nonetheless.

She makes me so, so proud.

And, not to be left out, there are these kind of magic moments . . . the snuggly ones with my tiniest bug. I honestly think sleeping with my girls (either of them) is like the best.thing.ever. I love nothing more than cuddling up with either of them and catching a few zzzzs myself.

Magic moments.

** The countdown to the end of maternity leave is ON. I go back March 1. As it approaches, I am excited, anxious, nervous, scared, and a whole lot of everything. Excited to have my career back. Excited to head back into my office. Excited to forge ahead in the career that I feel like has been on pause for over 8 months because of bed rest, maternity leave etc. Sad thinking about the amount of time I'll be away from my little family and my two girls. Nervous about how we'll make it all work. I asked B the other night, "how will we do it?" and he said, "we just will. Like we always do. We figure things out as we go. And we do them." So, here's to that!

***A few posts in the works . . . (1) another equipment post AND (2) a post about our decisions on childcare for Mia once I'm back at work, and how that's going to fit into our "figuring it out as we go" m/o. Stay tuned!

Guess Who is Already THREE Months Old?

2012-01-18T21:29:00.000-08:00

It sounds so cliche, but life with our little Mia truly is flying by. Mia is three months old today!! While this blog is intended (and likely will continue) to be primarily about my journey as a mother trying to navigate the world of special needs with and for my Sammie B, Mia will no doubt make appearances from time to time. She is, after all, part of our journey! (And a special little lady unto herself).

We are all continuing to adjust to life as a family of four. We take great care to plan what we call "special time" and "date nights" with Sammie B. Last week, she went shopping alone with B for clothes (and exclaimed either "so pretty!" or "too big!" for each outfit he tried on -- he trusted her fashion sense and purchased all the things she deemed "so pretty."). And this week, she had a dinner/grocery shopping night with me. I absolutely treasure my time alone with Sammie B. Her sense of humor and personality continue to amaze and inspire me.

As does her love for her sister . . . when Mia started crying yesterday after waking from a nap, Sammie B said, "Mama, pick her up!" And, for awhile I was a tad afraid of leaving them alone together . . . Sam likes to poke Mia's eyes and mouth from time to time (which Mia does not appreciate) but I'm convinced now this is to get a reaction out of us, so I've tested my theory and left them alone and watched from the doorway when Sammie B didn't know I was there. Before walking out of the room, I say "Sammie, can you watch Mia while I'm gone and if she cries, just tell her 'it's okay, Mia.'" (Just FYI - its not like I'm going out for drinks, just running to another room to grab something!) and each time, I come back to Sammie B just watching Mia intently (taking her job very seriously) and holding her hand. Pure sweetness. And when my mom was alone with the two of them, when Mia cried, Sammie B said, "Bottle!" She clearly is in tune with what her sister needs, and wants to protect her. Such a little lover.

I also cherish my time alone with Mia. Snuggles on the couch after Sammie B is asleep (we keep Mia up till about 10 and give her one last bottle before we put her down and then she's been sleeping till 5 or 6!!!) and snuggles and play while Sammie is at school or out and about with her fabulous nanny (we have really strived to keep her routine the same while I'm on maternity leave . . . and we knew that having her one "person" -- her nanny -- that she didn't have to share with Mia right away might help ease the transition for her to a family of four). Mia is a snuggly little lady that just loves her mama and loves to curl up into a ball on my shoulder, nuzzing her head under my chin and sleep, and I love that. Whenever she's not in my arms, her eyes follow me around the room, and she smiles whenever I get closer to her. Her smiles are huge and gummy and she coos and gurgles when I talk or sing to her like I'm the most delightful person in the world. I love that too.

I'm slowly slowly becoming less intimidated by being alone with both girls. It is not an easy job . . . to change floors, I have to carry one girly up and come back and get the other. Mia is a kiddo that likes to be held all the time, and I feel like this takes away from my ability to assist Sam with things. And Sam has had our undivided attention to play with her for three years. So, basically, when I'm alone with them, I constantly feel like I'm cheating one or the other. I know that will (hopefully) get easier as each girl becomes more independent, but it doesn't stop the usual mama guilt from haunting me now! B was on call two weeks ago for work, so I got A LOT of time alone with both girls, and felt intense guilt that I had to resort to letting Sammie B watch Sesame Street in the evenings when Mia was most demanding, so when he had to go out of town for a few days after that, I lined up evening sitters so that it would all be a little more manageable. With someone helping out, I was able to give each girl the one-on-one attention I want to give them AND even got another special date night out with Sammie B (which included a hair cut, car ride, and dinner).

A good time was had by all!

At three months, Mia still HATES the car and stroller (and most anything we put her down in . . . she likes to be held). And when I say she "hates" it, I'm talking the most heartbreaking tears, turning ten shades of purple and red kind of screaming . . . which has sort of made me hate the car too! I'm a constantly on-the-go kind of girl, but her disdain for the car keeps me home some days because I just can't take it. I have tried every kind of music under the sun, but it just doesn't do it for her! She LOVES being in the carriers on our chests, and most recently has decided she most likes to be facing out. She loves to be out seeing the world rarely falls asleep these days when we are out. It is as if she's terrified she'll miss something, and B and I are constantly amazed by how long she'll stay awake. When we are home though, she's usually good for a FEW quick cat naps and one good, long stretch of sleep in the afternoon, and as I mentioned, she's sleeping pretty well at night.

She's starting to tolerate some time in her play gym and longer stretches of tummy time (which is good, after years of working with PTs, we are pretty nervous about making sure she has enough tummy time!). Today she even ENJOYED her play gym while I got a few things done in the kitchen.

She LOVES watching her sister, and I love watching her watch her. We've recently starting propping Mia up on the couch or putting her in the bumbo and letting her just watch Sammie playing and she is so very content and enchanted with her sister. I cannot wait to watch these girls grow together.

In just three months, Miss Mia has already been to Disneyland, the San Diego Zoo, and Universal Studios. At each place, she happily stayed on one of our chests in the carrier, just taking it all in.

She's a chubby little lady with a buddha-esque belly and rolls on top of rolls. And she has cheeks and chinS that are just delicious. Delicious.

She is a snuggly little bug. She is Mia.

Sammie B's Getting A Walker!

2012-01-17T23:55:00.001-08:00

I've eluded to the fact that Sammie B would likely be acquiring some new equipment this year, including a gait trainer (in fact, our desire to get her in one was a huge impetus for changing physical therapists last year). Well, after trialing several in physical therapy, we are FINALLY ordering one . . . a purple (her choice!) Rifton Pacer. Sam is sort of lukewarm about walkers when we are at physical therapy, but one thing we know about Sammie B is that she tends to do more when she's in the comfort of her own home, with her people . . . and we've been talking with her a lot about getting a walker at home, and she's super excited about it. Whenever I mention it, she says, "PURPLE!" and "I'm READY!" I've explained to her that we've ordered it and have to wait, but I'm hope hope hoping its not too long of a wait.

You may remember that our old PT was totally opposed to gait trainers (she believed that you don't want kids that have the potential to walk independently to become dependent on equipment), and that the PTs at Sam's center-based early intervention program had a different philosophy (their belief was that you don't want to hold kids back cognitively/socially by refusing to give them equipment they need to interact in "typical" ways with their peers and environment) . . . and that current research supports the latter, which drove us to switch PTs.

Anyway, after all the testing/assessments we've been through with our girl and a WHOLE lot of thought, we really, really believe that her lack of independence in mobility has held her back in other areas. She's dependent on adults for support in walking/moving and as a result, is always glued to an adult. Because of her dependence on adults for her mobility, all of her play and exploration has been adult-driven. As much as we may wish our girl didn't need equipment (I'd cut off my own limbs to make mobility easy for her), the fact is . . . we want HER (and her peers) to see herself as a three-year-old, and not a baby, and we want to give her every chance at independent mobility that we can. If adaptive equipment is a means to that, then we will embrace that equipment. I can honestly say that I am (like Sammie B) super excited to get her a gait trainer. This may not have been something we ever envisioned picking out for our child, but you know what? Here we are. And if it helps her and gives her a new found way to navigate her little world independently, then truly, I say (with enthusiasm) "bring it on!"

Over the last several months, we've tried several different gait trainers in therapy. All had pros and cons and there was no "perfect" one, but ultimately, we knew we needed to just pick one and get it for her to work in at home. So, pick one we did. At the end, it came down to two . . . the Rifton Pacer and the Snugseat Mustang.

The Pacer (although this one is a little wide for her, hers will be smaller):

The Mustang:

The Mustang was super smooth and fancy-like, and a little easier to move in sideways directions, but it is also a brand-new gait trainer, and one without a proven track record like the Pacer. And, it also has a seat (this one takes the place of SnugSeat's old Pony), which our Sammie B quickly realized she could sit on and do less work.

She would sit on it (like a bike) and use her legs to move herself around. Clever, yes, but not what we are aiming for!

So, that's why we decided on the Pacer. It's more work for her, and a bit of a learning curve, but we are confident she'll be able to do it, as is our PT and it is a little closer to a pediatric posterior walker, which we hope is something she'll be able to work up to in time (and then, we'll just strip off the supports and the Pacer can be a posterior OR anterior walker). Right now, she tends to sort of push the top half of her body really far forward then bring her legs to catch up, but with practice, she'll get more control and be able to move her body a little more as a unit.

If you'd like an idea of what one of these things look like in action (and what we are striving for with Sammie B), check out our guest star . . . JOE!!! (Remember him? Sam's Baltimore boyfriend?). Click here for a video of him moving and grooving in his Pacer! (Joe has wrist prompts, which Sammie B's Pacer won't have; she'll have chest supports, which he doesn't have. Most of the gait trainers have a bunch of different optional supports because every kid needs a little different arrangement).

In anticipation of Sammie B's purple Pacer, we've created a play space in what was our living room. I mentioned that our house has a lot of stairs and isn't exactly gait trainer friendly, but we rearranged things a bit, and moved a bunch of Sammie B's toys down to the living room, moved furniture out of the way, and created a big open space that she already loves. Once we have the gait trainer, we'll take the gym mat out of the floor and just let her loose to explore and figure out her new wheels.

We HOPE HOPE HOPE Sammie B's purple Pacer will get her moving and grooving like our friend JOE!!! Here's to hoping and enabling and empowering and moving and grooving :)

Her Imagination and Moments I Want to Remember

2012-01-08T22:12:00.000-08:00

Even during the "heavy heart" kind of times (like tonight when I just can't shake that "wish it were easier FOR HER" feeling after a weekend of realizing how very much my girl WANTS to be on the move), this little smile LIGHTS UP MY WORLD.

This was Sammie B on her way to the moon. Right before she said, "one two three four BLAST OFF!"

Her imagination just wows me some days. Like last night, we sat at her little table to have dinner, and she took her place mat, wrapped it around her water cup, handed it to me (as if it were a present) and said, "happy birthday, mama!" (I, of course, thanked her profusely for such a fantastic birthday gift.). And, lately, rather than reading books to her, she has been enjoying me making up stories. I'll stop along the way and let her fill in details, and she LOVES it and begs for more. Want to hear sweet one? Last week, I was making up a story about Winnie-the-Pooh running into a little girl in lavender glasses while he was out on a walk (she of course filled in that the little girl's name was "Sammie B") and then I said, "Sammie B was out walking with her very best friend," and I stopped, curious who Sam would say was with her, and she said, "BABY MIA!" And my heart melted. Melted.

On an unrelated (but super cute) note, last night, as I "poked" bites of macaroni-and-cheese with her fork for her, she said "thank you mama!" after each bite. (Our journey to self-feeding with utensils has now evolved to me poking, then her putting it in her mouth . . . inchstones. The little turkey will totally do the whole process herself for her nanny but insists that I do the poking on my watch.). Thanked me for every bite. Could she be any sweeter? I don't think so.

Her magic is my light. I adore her.

Best of 2011

2012-01-03T09:42:00.000-08:00

I'm linking up with Ellen of Love that Max and participating in her blog hop of "Best of 2011" moments/posts. A few great moments come to mind for my favorite moments of 2011, including Sammie B's third birthday, which included three days of fun, fun, fun and celebrating with mine and B's parents and all of our favorite friends -- Sammie B's biggest fans; or B's birthday in November, when Sammie B gave him the gift she picked out; mother's day when I had the most perfect day, along with perfect wishes for a happy day from my big girl; there was our musical milestone in August; and our babymoon in October. Moments that lit up my world.

In 2011, I reflected on the labels and causes in our lives, and remembered that we are so much more than that, and that life is measured in happy. Just a couple of my favorite posts.

But the BEST moment of 2011 for our little family was no doubt in October, when our big girl met her little sister for the first time. The giggles, squeals of utter delight (saying "BABY MIA!" over and over) made my heart happier than its ever been before. It was as if Sammie B just couldn't believe that after all that talk about "Baby Mia" for months on end, mama's big belly, and other preparations for baby that we had finally, finally gotten a real, live baby. That moment goes down not just in the "bests" of 2011, but in the "bests" of my life. I have this picture up in our home, and I swear, I can be exhausted and having a terrible day, but I walk by this picture, and it takes me back to that moment, I can hear the little giggles and squeals of glee that were coming from my Sammie B, see B's eyes (and feel mine) filled with tears, and my heart just sings.

Ringing in 2012

2012-01-01T22:02:00.001-08:00

We've had a pretty mellow couple of days celebrating a belated Christmas and New Years Eve/New Years Day with Gigi. I've had the opportunity to take some glorious, glorious afternoon naps with my Sammie B and feel so, so refreshed. We've had good food (ham, turnip greens and black-eyed peas for good luck today!) and just had a wonderful time with one another. I couldn't ask for any better way to close out 2011, which was a big year for our little family. In 2011, we survived a not-so-easy pregnancy and bed rest, lots of ups and downs, and welcomed our sweet Mia into our family. While we had tons (TONS!) of love, joy, giggles & magic in 2011, I feel like we didn't get a whole lot of "easy," and truthfully . . . that's my biggest wish for 2012. That my little family (and B and I as parents) get to know a little more "easy" this year. A little less hard.

So, 2012, bring on the easy. Please.

Some other wishes and hopes:

- May B and I wake up each day and be the best parents we can be, and the parents that our two little girls need us to be. May I truly be "giving enough" to BOTH of them, and struggle a little less with that ever-present mama guilt and worry that I could/should somehow do more.

- May the therapists, doctors, teachers and others that walk this journey with us be intelligent, compassionate, proactive, take the time to truly "get" our sweet Sammie B, and work with her in ways that enable and empower her to be her very best self. May those people never underestimate our girl, but believe in her endless potential. May they (and we) remember that only she can reveal her best self to the world. We are just here to help her along the way.

- May we (and those that care for our girl) find ways to enable and empower Sammie B to find independence and mobility, allowing her to engage in the world around her in age-appropriate ways.

- May we always remember that "typical" doesn't have to be our goal, but OUR BEST is. And her best.

- If there's some answer to Sammie B's delays that we just haven't found, and if we are in any way doing a disservice to HER by missing it, may we find it this year. (We really took a break from "testing" in 2011, and while we don't desire to test for testing's sake, my hope is always that if there's something going on that's treatable, we'll be led to the answer).

- May we continue to be at peace with "no answer" if there isn't one to be found.

- May we find our "new normal" as a family of four, and find ways to enjoy each other, even in the midst of what might feel like craziness and chaos.

- With all the change of 2011 (new preschool, new therapists, new sister) behind her, may Sammie B settle into her new routine as well, and her new school, and thrive.

- When all the therapies feel like "too much," may we remember to take a step back, remember what's really important, and just enjoy one another.

- May this year bring inchstones, milestones and the inchstones that turn into milestones, and may B and I never, ever take those for granted, however tiny they might seem. (I just looked back at my New Years post from last year . . . I'd mentioned that Sammie B was "starting to combine two words" and had said "bye bye mama" . . . last week, she said an eleven word sentence. Progress. Amazing progress.) May we not get so caught up in the "where we want to go" that we forget how far we've come.

- May B and I find ways, time and opportunities to reconnect, and may we operate as a team in all we do to parent our sweet girls. And, if we need some help and guidance in doing that, may we find that help.

- May Sammie B always know that she makes me so very, very "happy and proud." (I've told her this so much that now when she does something great and I say "good job," she usually says "happy and proud!").

- As we continue to learn who our little Mia is, may her heart feel as full of love as ours already is for her . . .

- May my return to work go smoothly, and may I have the opportunity to give my career what I'd like to give it after having been "out of the game" for bed rest and maternity leave. May I (and we) find the ever-elusive work/life balance . . . or at least some semblance of it.

And most of all, I hope that 2012 is as full of love, joy, giggles and magic as 2011 was (and more!) and that 2012 is marked by a blossoming relationship between my two girls . . . SISTERS. May they each motivate, inspire, and teach one another, just as they are already motivating, inspiring, and teaching us. May these two little sisters start forming a friendship that will last forever.

My two little loves. May they both always know how very, very, very much I love them. Heart so full it could burst kind of love.

Bring it on, 2012.

From our home to yours, happy New Year!

Funny, Funny Girl

2011-12-29T11:59:00.001-08:00

Sammie B's response to "use your muscles to help you stand" . . .

This little girl makes my world go 'round!

A Fourth and a First December

2011-12-28T08:04:00.001-08:00

2008

2009

2010

2011

No Smiles For That Guy This Year!

2011-12-28T07:59:00.001-08:00

Sammie B looks miserable, doesn't she? I hate that the elves just plop the kid on Santa's lap and give them no time to "warm up." Just moments after this picture, and after Santa told Sammie B what HE wanted for Christmas (a hippopatomus pillow pet), she was laughing and smiling.

For pictures with Santa in years past (and more of Sammie B's slightly shell-shocked "get me off his lap" expression), go here.

Christmas was Merry and Bright - A Christmas Photo Bomb For YOU!

2011-12-28T05:29:00.000-08:00

My December has been decidedly barren of blog posts . . . which means (as it often does) I have a lot of heavy stuff going on in my head and life, lots of thoughts just sort of swimming around incoherently in my mind, and I just haven't managed to put it all in a coherent post. Those thoughts don't belong in my Christmas post, though, and I DO want to share our holiday with you. Because our Christmas was nothing short of magical, merry and bright and I spent my holiday just soaking in the joy of being with my two daughters.

So here goes . . . your picture-heavy play-by-play of our holiday.

First, the tree, which we put up the day after Thanksgiving, and which is coming down today . . . Sam LOVED decorating it and would exclaim "me tree!" anytime she saw it. (We are working on "My Tree!" ;o))

A few nights before Christmas, we had our annual Christmas celebration with our nanny and her mom (we are so, so blessed to have them BOTH in our lives.). As we've done the last two years, we celebrated with a totally low-key dinner of taco-stand tacos (delicious ones) and presents. Sammie B started out the evening a little sleepy and not THAT into the gifts . . . until the last present. A big red tunnel from her nanny. (She knows our girl!) Sammie B came ALIVE. Everyone took a turn in the tunnel, and Sammie B was absolutely ecstatic. Each day since then, she's requested to play with her "red tunnel" and usually demands that each one of us get in with her.

Mia slept in my wrap nearly the whole time, which is her favorite place to be. B was kind enough to open her presents for her :)

And, the next night, we went to see this amazing display of holiday lights on a street near us. Sam kept copying me and saying "It's SO pretty here!" (It was!). She also kept pulling my hair (I hadn't carried her in the Ergo on my back in while) which was not so cool. More on how our previously 100% angelic three-year-old has been challenging us and requiring disciplining in another post! (PS - we know - it's healthy for her to be challenging us!).

On Christmas Eve Eve, B had to work, so I put Miss Mia in my wrap (notice a pattern? she loves it there!) and Sammie B and I made a gluten-free (!) gingerbread house. Mostly I made the house and she ate the candy. A good time was had by all!

Then, on Christmas Eve, the girls donned their Minnie Mouse shirts and we went to Disneyland (for our second year in a row). That day was pure magic. The crowds are insane, but the park is BEAUTIFUL at Christmas time and I love, love, love seeing it all through the eyes of my Sammie B. B and I took turns wearing Mia (he's a bjorn guy, I'm an ergo girl, if you were wondering) which worked perfectly to allow the other one of us to be with Sammie B. Mia of course won't remember the day, but she DID ride her first rides (starting with Dumbo, of course!). From the character breakfast in the morning (Sammie B just kept asking every character for Elmo, we kept explaining he lived on Sesame Street, not at Disneyland and B kept apologizing to the characters on her behalf; though she was thrilled with Winnie the Pooh and did NOT ask him for Elmo) to the parade that night, we had a blast. We also took a ton of pictures.

After a very exhausting (but fun!) day at Disney, we headed home where we had a very late dinner and the girls fell asleep. Then, B and I opened a bottle of wine and assembled toys and waited on Santa to stuff stockings!

We were absolutely wiped out but it was well worth it the next morning . . . to see the smiles on BOTH girls' faces! Sammie B's smile when she came downstairs and saw her loot was priceless.

Her two big-ticket items, a slide (from Santa) and a double wagon for her and Mia (from Nana and Papa) were both a HUGE hit.

We finished opening presents (you'll even see that Mia enjoyed hers -- she smiled so big!), Nana and Papa even joined us via skype to watch Sammie open the presents they'd sent (and to marvel at her propelling herself down the slide with utter and complete glee! We take no movement for granted).

And, finally, after the presents were open and our living room was sufficiently destroyed . . . we had a delicious breakfast that I made -- my mom's breakfast casserole, though it was NOT as good as when she makes it (hey, I tried!). As we sat at the dining room table, Sammie B kept asking for "more candy!" and "me candy!" (Santa had put M&M's in her stocking). B kept telling her "not now, not for breakfast," and then he said, "can you use big girl words?" (We are really trying to discourage demanding things by saying "me! me! me!") and our girl said, "Can I have some more candy at this big table please?" (We obviously don't eat in the dining room often!) Guess what? After looking at each other with such pride and happiness and complimenting our girl on her very, very, very big girl words, B gave Sammie B some more candy!

As I sat at breakfast and looked at my two girls, my heart just felt so happy. It is totally and completely cheesy, but I started crying. B looked at me like "what is wrong?" and I said, "I'm just so happy. I can't believe they are both mine!" And, I meant it. The thing is, it wasn't even a perfect moment in the sense that we think of "perfect." Sammie B was demanding candy with "me candy! me candy!," Mia was crying in my wrap and I was up sort of bouncing her around and singing trying to sooth her . . . yet it felt absolutely perfect and right. So, as I reflect on my very very merry Christmas and the other heavier stuff swimming in my head, maybe that's what its all about -- we aren't looking for "perfect" in the sense that nothing is ever hard or heavy. Just in the sense that it feels perfect and right. And, loving these two girls it the most right and perfect thing I've ever had the pleasure of doing. I am so, so lucky to be "mama."

After presents and breakfast (tears and all), we went outside for a wagon ride. As we passed others out walking, Sammie B would lean out her wagon and say "Merry Kih-Mas!" and one time, B said, "Sammie that's SO NICE of you to wish him a Merry Christmas," to which Sammie B replied "Thank you Dada!". Sweet girl!

All WAS Merry and Bright! I hope your holiday was just as merry and bright.

Now, to go take that tree down and ready ourselves for my mom's (Gigi) arrival (and MORE CHRISTMAS!) tomorrow!!!

This is Hard.

2011-12-08T20:53:00.000-08:00

Sometimes it helps to just admit when things are hard . . .

This journey has its ups and downs and ebbs and flows, and lately, I've been struggling a little with my feelings about Sammie B's physical struggles. As I've said 8 zillion times, I just wish I could make things easier FOR HER. She deserves easiness.

It is not like I'm feeling sad, or depressed, or grieving about Sammie B's disability lately. I'm not. It's more like I think about it as I watch her struggle to do something that I wish was easy for her, or as I lift her up to do something that other kids can do independently, and I think, "damn it!" I think I'm just feeling a slight bit of anger at the universe. Like, "damn it, we are three years into this journey and she's struggled enough. She's worked so stinking hard. When does the 'easy' she deserves come?" It's not like I'm staying in a bad place, I'm not. It's more like I think "damn it!" and move on. I'm not even sure what to call the feelings I'm having. I think it is frustration. Frustrated for Sammie B. Frustrated that there are so many hard decisions to make, and frustrated that as a family, we just haven't known much "easy" in the last three years.

So, that's that. I'm kind of struggling. As Sammie B gets older, and bigger, we have a lot of really difficult logistical things to think about, and things that make me say "damn it." I can't help but think about how fast she's growing, and carrying her IS becoming harder. But there's more . . . cognitively, I worry that we are holding her back. She's a bright little girl, who WANTS to do three-year old things, even when her body won't let her. And, we are reaching a point where carrying her isn't age appropriate, nor is her having an adult glued to her for assistance all the time. We are in the process of getting a gait trainer (more on that in another post) (a medical walker with some extra support) and I wish we'd gotten one sooner (damn you old PT), which we hope hope hope will give her that extra independence, but our home is pretty much the least accessible home ever. We have stairs up from the garage to the living room, then another flight of stairs to the kitchen/dining room/den, then another flight to the master bedroom, then another flight to the girls' rooms. That's four flights of stairs. So, we know that we need to think about putting the house on the market and getting a single-level home. We've probably delayed that decision as much as we can, and we've now really started talking about doing so in a year. But, we bought three years ago, before the market crashed, so we know we'll likely lose what we paid down and all that we paid so far (hopefully, we won't be in the hole and have to write a check). . . which just stinks. It would take us a long time to save for another down payment, so we'll likely rent, which isn't the end of the world, but it is just kind of a hard decision to have to make. This was our first home we bought together, we bought with the idea that we had room to grow and could stay here for awhile, and we love our home. But, we want Sammie B to have a home that is accessible for her. She deserves nothing less. We still believe with all our hearts that she WILL walk, and her new PT seems confident she will too, but there's a lot of progress to be made between now and then . . . this home isn't a great one for a gait trainer or a simple pediatric walker (which would likely be the next step after a gait trainer) and even once she starts walking, stairs may be a challenge at first. A lot to think about. And, honestly, those are the thoughts that make me say "damn it."

When I watch my girl get so excited about something that she loses her balance, I sometimes think "damn it." Frustrated FOR her.

When I get a call from the school PT saying she has a vendor that is going to give us a loaner gait trainer for school but the only time they can meet with us is on Friday, the day I'd planned to spend the whole day doing FUN things with Sammie B, I think "damn it," and then rearrange our plans so that we can meet the vendor and do "fun" the rest of the day.

When I hear that, for the first time, another kiddo in Sammie B's class asked why Sammie B can't walk, I think "damn it," even though I know the teacher (and that student) handled it well. JUST. WANT. EASINESS. FOR. HER.

When the teacher says in the parent-teacher conference, that she's new to the orthopedic impaired kid like Sam, I think "damn it," and wish just once, we weren't the trailblazers.

I am slowly, slowly learning to navigate this world with two kids, but this hasn't been easy either . . . I got a new wrap yesterday so that I can wear Mia (who demands to be held!) and still have my hands free to assist Sammie B with walking, to lift her, to do the things she needs my help with. I've had moments of frustration when I was holding Mia and Sammie B needed me, like when I braved the park with both of them and was pushing Sammie B on her trike with Mia in the Ergo on my chest and Sammie wanted off the bike for a moment to play in the grass. My first instinct was just to tell her "no," because getting her off and on with a baby on my chest wasn't easy, but that's not fair to her. So, we did it, even though it was not easy. I'm hoping the new wrap (which isn't as bulky and awkward as the Ergo) helps in these moments. And more than anything, I just hope and pray that in those moments of frustration, I can keep the frustration out of my voice. Because I don't want Sammie B to sense that and ever, ever, ever thing I'm frustrated WITH her. I'm not. I imagine she must be very frustrated with her body. She knows what she WANTS it to do and even what WE want her to be able to do, so in those moments, I never, ever, ever want her to feel/sense/hear my frustration. Because in no way am I frustrated WITH her. I'm frustrated FOR her and with our situation. OH HOW I WISH I COULD SNAP MY FINGERS AND GIVE HER THE EASINESS SHE DESERVES.

As we look for ways to help Sammie B be more independent so that she CAN do age-appropriate things and as we look for ways to adjust our home and our world to make it one that is accessible to her, there will be hard moments. "Damn it" moments. The good moments far outweigh those moments, for sure, but today, I just needed to admit that it IS hard. And, to allow myself to feel the frustration FOR my girl, to say "damn it," and to move on.

Picture Me {Im}perfectly: Confessions of a Mom in Survival Mode

2011-11-28T20:51:00.001-08:00

As we settle into this life as a family of four, with each passing day, things feel easier. Like we are slowly, slowly finding our new normal. My friends with multiple kids all tell me that there's a turning point at 6 weeks (tomorrow), then at 8 weeks, and again around 3 months, where things just keep getting easier and life feels simpler. I already feel like B and I are getting the whole tag-team parenting thing down a little better (we joked that now its one-on-one defense; we each have a kid all the time. Friday, I had brunch with friends, so I said, "I'll take one, and the other gets a date with you." I have a feeling THIS is how we'll make many, many things in our lives work in the coming months (years?) as we settle into this new chapter).

But, even though things are starting to feel simpler, I do (at times) (okay, often) feel like I'm operating in survival mode. The kind of survival mode where I find myself stuffing my face at 9 pm, completely ravished, wondering WHY I'm so hungry and then realize how little I've eaten all day. The days are just busy. I remember this same thing from when we first brought Sammie B home from the hospital, and I expected it, but still . . .

There are other things I'm noticing. Signs of (or results of) this "survival" mode, so I thought I'd share a few confessions with you:

- Sam is the pickiest eater. Ever. And she has a wheat allergy, so we have her on a gluten-free diet. The two (picky + gluten-free) means that she has very few foods that she'll actually eat. We tried early on to get her to expand her tastes, but lately, I'm picking my battles. So, the rotation between macaroni and cheese (RICE pasta), chicken nuggets, fish sticks and hot dogs will continue, and I will not feel guilt. She DOES eat fruits and veggies on occasion, just in small amounts. She's picky, and a totally hit or miss eater. Some nights she eats a ton, some nights it is a fight to get her to take two bites. And frankly, I'm not above bribing her for those two bites with a dessert (which she never turns down). Nor am I ashamed that dessert occasionally just becomes dinner. PICKING MY BATTLES.

- Sam will eat with a fork and spoon at school and with her nanny. Not with me. I try. She just hands me the spoon/fork and says "mama!" Some days I push, some days I don't. Some days I take her up on the invitation to feed her. But then I feel guilty, like I SHOULD be pushing her in that area of independence. PICKING MY BATTLES.

- I worry about potty training Sam. I worry a lot. With her low-tone, we have no idea whether she gets that "got to go" feeling. We know that she cognitively "gets" the idea. We talk about it with her, and just before Mia was born, the signs were there that she was ready to train. Now that Mia has come, she absolutely REFUSES to sit on a potty, and I've decided now is not the time to push. I worry. She's three. When I change her diapers now, I think about how big she looks and I feel like I'm somehow failing by NOT yet having her trained. But still, I'm PICKING MY BATTLES.

- The same is true with television. I've always tried to limit Sam's television. I always always feel like we "should" be "working" with Sam. Doing PT homework. She LOVES to watch Dora, and I've always tried to limit it. Until I realized how much she's learned from that show. She knows how to count in Spanish. She has started being able to do simple subtraction problems . . . Sammie B is a sponge. So, I've decided to give myself permission to let her watch it a little more. Like the rest of us, Sammie B NEEDS downtime. She can't be "working" all the time. And, with our new addition to the family and my new responsibilities, I too need some time that I know Sammie B is just entertained and happy and content. So, if we sit on the bed together and watch a few Dora shows while I feed Mia, I will not feel guilty. PICKING MY BATTLES.

- It's not just true with TV/Dora. I always feel this sense of "I should be working with Sam" and I HATE that. She could sit at her little table or cube chair/desk ALL day and play with play-dough or learn (she loves going through flashcards, loves ABC games, is starting to like other games, etc.). And, I KNOW that's great for her, and I enjoy it more than anything, but there's still that tugging "I should put her leg braces on her and do some PT homework." On the other hand, learning, and doing the table-top activities is her strength and she ENJOYS it, and I feel like we spend so much time at PT, etc. "working" on her weak areas, that when we are home, just us, I WANT to give her time to be doing what she's amazing at AND what she enjoys. It's a delicate balance and one that knaws at me all the time. I try to give myself permission to JUST be "mama" and not therapist, but then . . . there's guilt. That nagging guilt.

- During the week that Sammie B was so sick with the flu, I gave up on breastfeeding Mia. I just felt like both of my girls NEEDED me all at the same time, non-stop and it was too much. My head was spinning and my heart felt torn all.the.time. I just needed to be interchangeable with B for SOMETHING. So, I made what was probably a rash decision and said, "I can't do this anymore," and stopped. I'm pumping so Mia is still getting the benefits of breast milk but I feel guilty. I wanted it to work out this time, but I just could not.keep.it.up. I worry I gave up too easily, but I know this is another one of those times I have to let myself off the hook. PICKING MY BATTLES.

- I miss work. A lot. I'm jealous that B gets to get up and go to work everyday. I'm certain that I wouldn't feel this way so soon into maternity leave had I not been out on bed rest beforehand, but I just feel like I've been out of the game for so long, and I'm longing for it. I even thought about going back early, but I KNOW that I'll never get this time back, so I won't. But the fact that I've THOUGHT about going back early has made me feel guilty. Again, gotta LET MYSELF OFF THE HOOK, right? Let myself miss it, enjoy my time home, and know that work will be there in February.

- Mia is a "needs to be held" kind of girl. I can usually get about 15 minutes out of her in the swing, 10 in the bouncy chair . . . and then she cries. I feel like I sat on the couch for four straight months of maternity leave with Sam and just held her, just because I wanted to, but I'm struggling this time. I feel like I have so much to do, and sitting still for long is NOT who I am. So, I'm struggling to just sit and hold her and enjoy her itsy-bitsy'ness. I think because I feel so torn all day . . . between being needed by both girls (and simultaneously wanting to be with both of them) and having a million other things to do, finding time to just sit and "bond" with Miss Mia is harder. Because of this, I'm actually enjoying my time with her at night . . . when again, she DEMANDS to be held. But then, the rest of the world (including Sammie B) is sleeping, the house is dark, and I can just SIT and hold her (and doze myself). That said, I was DETERMINED NOT to co-sleep with this baby (even though ironically, this time around, B wanted it -- he was such a hold out on that with Sammie B, but then ultimately fell in love with having her in our bed and said to me while I was pregnant, "we get to sleep with another baby!" to which I replied, "NO WAY!"). This time, it was ME that said its not what I wanted. I didn't want to have to go through that transitioning OUT of our bed period and I felt like it would be really hard for Sammie B to understand why EVERYONE but her in her little family was sleeping in one bed. So, I resisted . . . yet we find ourselves many nights with a Mia Monster in our bed, or a Mia Monster on my chest sitting in the rocking chair. Truthfully, its still not what I want, but I am treasuring the snuggly time with Mia when the house is quiet, and I'm just too darn tired myself to put her down and spend so long soothing her over and over as she wakes up and wants to be held. . . . so there you have it. I'm going to discuss her gruntiness and gassiness and general displeasure with being ANYWHERE but on our chests with her pediatrician at her two-month appointment, and hope that from there we can work on the sleeping thing, but for now, I'm just giving myself permission to enjoy the nighttime snuggles. PICKING MY BATTLES.

- Bedtime with Sammie B used to be difficult. After we finally transitioned her out of our bed, there was a period where one of us had to lay with her to get her to sleep. Sometimes, that meant laying with her for over an hour . . . but then, we finally got her to just go to sleep on her own and bedtime is (generally) easy-peasy. PJs, teeth brushed, two stories, pick animals to sleep with, turn on the stars for her ceiling, kisses and we walk out (and then I get to watch her on the monitor!). Lately, she's requesting some pretty funny stuff to sleep with . . . a bottle (like one of Mia's), spoons, etc. And, again, this is a place where I'm PICKING MY BATTLES. Last night she went to sleep with two spoons, tonight it is a soup ladle. I thought as I walked out, "is that weird? should I not let her have those in bed? IS SHE GOING TO POKE HER EYE OUT?" Then, I listened (and watched) her on the monitor and heard her say . . . . "TWO SSSSSSS-ppooons!" with utter glee as she held them up in bed. We've worked on that "ssss" sound for a long time. So, I say, enjoy your SSSSSpooons, my sweet girl and sleep tight!

By choosing to pick my battles, and focus on the joy of each day, I'm certain my days (and my girls' days) are better for it, but that guilt of "am I slacking? do I need to push more?" is always there. I always wonder if I'm failing at this parenting thing. I always feel imperfect. I know that I have to constantly forgive myself for what I perceive as tiny failures . . . feeling like I haven't spent enough time with Sammie B because Mia has needed me (and vice versa), feeling like I "should" be working on x, y or z with Sammie B instead of snuggling and watching Dora, etc. But, I am NOT superwoman. That said, somehow things DO end up getting done, and our days are never short on love, so perhaps I'm doing alright after all.

* For the story behind "Picture Me {Im}Perfectly" posts, click on the picture above.

My Daughters

2011-11-28T13:37:00.000-08:00

Three years ago, Sammie B entered our world and we were never the same.

Samantha Abigail, October 2008

And now, Mia makes four.

Mia Ryan, October 2011

Can you tell the difference? Something tells me 20 years from now, I won't be able to. In person, they actually look different but the pictures are uncanny.

Thankful

2011-11-26T21:12:00.000-08:00

All my favorite bloggers have done "thankful" posts this year, and I of course, don't want to be left out ;) Truthfully, these posts are hard for me. I'm always a person that can think of what "more" I want. It's easy to focus on where we want to go, and forget to just appreciate the right now. The "minute simple moments" as my dear friend H says. And, the truth is, we have so very many "minute simple moments" to be thankful for. I've actually been giving this post tons of thought, and kept a list of my "thankful" thoughts over the past few days since I haven't had a moment to sit and write, and am just now sitting down to type while Mia is (hopefully) good for a three-hour stretch of sleep. I feel as if I'm racing against the clock (Mia's clock) with a lot to say, so it may be a little disjointed, but here goes . . .

I looked back at my Thanksgiving post last year and marveled at what a different place we are in this year. Last year, I didn't even have a "thankful" post. The truth was, last year, at this time, we were one week away from our trip to the Johns Hopkins Hypotonia Center, and I was terrified. Terrified they'd find "something" and pull the rug out from under my feet. I was (and still am) finding my way in this world of special needs mothering, but I feel like this year, I'm just in a better place. It is hard to describe, but I've just gotten better at living in the 'now,' and saving tomorrow's worries for tomorrow . . . I know that will be a lifelong struggle for me, but I'm just thankful that I'm headed in the direction of gratitude for the "minute simple moments" of today!

I am so very, very thankful for the little family that I get to share my life with. For B, who is my best friend. We have our ups and downs, to be sure, but there's no one else I'd rather be on this crazy journey with. He is an amazing dada to our girls -- lately, he's done a lot more with Sammie B than normal (as I've been caring for Mia) and watching their relationship grow and evolve has just melted me. I can hear them on the monitor in the mornings when he goes to get her, and I lay there and listen and just melt. Their shared giggles, hugs, love. This morning, B got up with Sam and let me sleep with Mia until after ten, and when I came downstairs, I found them so content in the living room floor, laughing and playing together. Sweetness.

And for magical Sammie B, who has taught me more in these three years than I learned in my first thirty. For little Mia, whose just joined our little world and already won our hearts over.

I'm thankful for this blog - my outlet, my therapy, my escape. My place to work through my thoughts and struggles and feelings on this journey as a mama to a special needs little girl. And, because that's really what this blog is mostly about ("My Sammie B") much of my "thankful" thoughts will focus on that magical little girl.

Ellen, over at Love that Max, posted a great list of her "thankful thoughts" for her own special man, Max. One of her points particularly resonated with me:

"Thank you for redefining my idea of 'achievement.' It's not just about reaching the end goal; it is each and every little score along the way."

I am thankful to my own little magical girl for teaching ME to re-think what "achievement" (and hard work and perseverance and a whole lot of other great qualities) really means. The thing is, if I look at where we were last year gross-motor wise, we haven't met any huge milestones. Still not walking independently, still no four-point crawling. It's easy to think of those end goals and feel like there IS no progress, but the truth is . . . achievement isn't just about those goals, "it is each and every score along the way." Cruising. Taking steps in her walker in PT and at school. Taking more functional assisted steps. There truly is progress and "achievement" in Sammie B's every day. And, I'm thankful for her for teaching me not to take anything for granted. I think about the things that she CAN do now that felt like they might never happen (like getting herself from lying to sit) and I NOTICE when she does it every.single.time. When B and I are together and she pulls herself to standing on her toy horse or gets from lying to sitting, we always steal a glance at each other over her head. Just a quick recognition, a shared moment, of the realization that "she can do that!" Each of Sammie B's "inchstones" feels like a hard-fought victory (and is the result of so, so much work on her part), and that makes it all the more amazing to witness.

So, I'm thankful for Sammie B has taught me about achievement, about appreciating every little "score" along the way to each goal, to dream big even in the face of uncertainty and challenge. Valuable lessons from a most magical child.

I am also so very, very grateful for every word that comes out of my Sammie B's mouth. When I looked at last years posts in November, I think she had said about 10 words. Now, her number of words is age-appropriate. Speaking in sentences and more than one-two word utterances is still hard for her, and her articulation is not perfect (and so unfamiliar listeners may not always know what she's saying) but our girl talks. She tells us so very, very much. And again, when she does, B and I have those stolen glances of "did you hear that?" Like tonight, after we gave the girls their baths, we asked Sammie B if she wanted to go into her room or wait for Baby Mia to be done with her bath, and she said, "wait for Baby Mia to be done with her bath." B and I both told her "good talking!," stole a glance at each other, and beamed. See? There were times when combining that many words felt far away. But here we are. Dream big despite challenges.

Some of our friends on this special needs journey have children who haven't yet found their voices, and I know that has been a struggle for the parents. And that too, has taught me (or reminded me) to not lose sight of the "cans" in face of the "can'ts" and to really, truly appreciate every word that comes from our girl. And, I do. I totally do. I learn not just from Sammie B, but from the other amazing little kiddos (and parents) we've met along our way. And for those lessons, and those friendships, I am thankful.

I am so very, very grateful for Sammie B's loving personality. Her constant "thank yous" (when I cover her with a blanket, when I give her a glass of water, the other day after we finished lunch at a restaurant, etc). She is love. Pure and simple. And while we've had our struggles transitioning to a family of four, and Sammie B may have had some moments of jealousy, her adoration for her little sister shows. She's gotten upset when she and I have left the house without her sister, she's called for "baby Mia" when she wakes up in the morning, she loves her. On Thanksgiving Day, Mia was laying on the couch crying and our sweet Sammie B slid down off her spot on the couch, held onto the couch for support, and took four very wobbly, timid cruising steps over to her sister and reached for Mia's bottle to give her. 100% magic and amazing. That is achievement. At its best.

And, I can only imagine that as our little Mia grows and becomes more aware of her world, her adoration for Sammie B will match Sammie's of her.

This life has ups and downs. This life (and ours) has challenges. But at the end of each day, there's no where I'd rather be than in my little home with my little family. With my husband and our two girls. With toys and traces of pink (little pink socks, shoes, you name it) strewn about. Sharing in the "minute simple moments" as we find our way as a family of four with whatever circumstances life throws at us.

And finally, I'm thankful that we have an amazing support network of friends and family. For the two sets of grandparents, who love and adore our girls, and who learn from sweet Sammie B just as we are. Who love her just as she is, and who celebrate her achievements just as we do. I'm thankful for those friends along this journey who we've never even met in real life. For everyone that follows this blog, the moms from my web group, people who have never laid eyes on us in person, yet cheer our girl on non-stop. For all of my girl's fans (and we know there are many!). For your support and for all of the "cheering" you do, thank you.

To my little girl in lavender glasses, who wins the hearts of all she meets, and who is teaching her parents, grandparents, friends, family and others valuable lessons along the way, thank-you. My magical, sweet, amazing, wonderful Sammie B.

One Month of Mia

2011-11-18T16:10:00.000-08:00

Mia Monster,

You are one month old today. It sounds a little trite, but my how time flies. As I sit to write this letter to you (as I've done many times for your sister and will do many more for both of you, on birthdays, special occasions, milestones, and sometimes, "just because") I feel like I should be able to tell you something about who you are right now. But, the truth is, we are just figuring each other out - you and me. I'm slowly learning what your cries mean and what soothes and comforts you, and you are learning to trust the world through your dada and me.

We've had a sort of insane few weeks, with your sister catching the flu, and I can say this -- you were a trooper. We were in and out of the pediatrician's office, in and out of the car, and you were passed back and forth between your dada and me and our nanny, and you handled it all like a champ. As long as we keep your belly full, you are a happy, content, snuggly little girl.

I promise to work on the whole taking pictures thing. I'm pretty sure every second child ever born has complained that their parents took so many more pictures of their first-born, and already, your dad and I are guilty of this. But, my sweet Mia, you are in good company amongst your dad and I - both also second children. And, now, I understand why my own mother has so many more pictures of my older brother! When the parent:child ratio in the house goes from 2:1 to 1:1, there's little time to run for the camera!

This week was the first week that you and I spent the days just the two of us. We actually did a lot together this week, you and me. We had lunch with friends, a pedicure (which you kindly slept through while I held you!), went into my office for you to meet everyone, bought groceries, had your one-month check-up . . . a busy week indeed. You love being in the Ergo carrier on my chest, and I love having you there. By the time we got home each day, when your dad would get home and I'd pass you off to him while I got dinner ready for your big sister and spent some one-on-one time with her, you were exhausted. You've spent your days out and about with me, your evenings sleeping on your dada's shoulder, and your nights alternating between your co-sleeper and mama and dada's bed. (We gotta work on that, sister! More time in co-sleeper please!)

You are both sweetness and fury. Sweet cuddles, sweet loves. But if you wake up hungry? My oh my girl. You have a temper. When you are hungry, or have to burp, you wake up SCREAMING. Like the "I haven't ever eaten in my life and why won't you feed me" kind of screams, and your ENTIRE body turns pink with anger. As heartbreaking as those little screams are, your dada and I cannot help but giggle at your temper. That, my dear, is how you've gotten your nickname - Mia Monster.

We love you dearly my girl. This first month has been a whirlwind, and we are so, so glad you are here. I know we'll just keep figuring each other out, and I can't wait to watch you reveal who you are.

You are beautiful. We love you.

Mama

** Pictures from our newborn photo shoot with Maggie Keegan Gross Photography when Mia was just one week old.

My Little Family

2011-11-18T00:36:00.000-08:00

After Mia's newborn shoot, we did a mini-family shoot with our photographer (and my friend, Maggie Keegan Gross).

I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the results. Seriously. We went to our viewing appointment hoping to buy a FEW prints but not to spend too much money. That was a big fat fail. We LOVED the pictures so much, we blew the budget, but we know we will treasure the pictures FOREVER.

(Butterfly kisses and a tender dada/Sammie moment!)

(She's a tiny bundle of sweetness, isn't she?)

(This one on the left? best picture EVER. We ordered a huge one for our wall. That picture just captures the giggles that IS our Sammie B and the silliness that her dada brings out in her!).

Maggie really truly managed to just capture the magic that is my little family. The magic that is Sammie B, the sweetness of both of the girls, and the love that is our family just oozes from these pictures (at least I see it!). Sammie B totally hammed it up for Maggie (and smiled some . . . at the promise of a surprise after the shoot) and the pictures of Sam's silly faces make my heart happy.

Love. Love. Love. Thank you, Maggie, for capturing my sweet family!

P.S. The day of the shoot, I realized I might have been crazy to book a family shoot one week post-baby, but I managed to find a dress that fit and we pulled it together, don't you think?

P.P.S. Other reasons to love Maggie (besides that she's a talented photographer)? She's signed up to be a photographer for the Inspiration Through Art Littlest Hero's Project!!! AND, as a little girl, Maggie wore leg braces, just like Sammie B. For ALL these reasons, we'll keep going back to Maggie, again and again, to capture our little family in pictures. You should too!

Cruising

2011-11-17T22:20:00.000-08:00

As I sat in the pediatrician's office today with Miss Mia, waiting for her one-month check-up, and got these pictures of Sammie B with a text that said, "100% by herself!," my heart felt like it would just burst with happiness.

My Sammie B, I wish you didn't have to work so hard for these milestones. But you do. And you amaze, inspire, and teach me every.single.day. Have I ever told you you are magic? You are.

Brain Dump/Catch Up/Transitioning to a Family of Four

2011-11-15T20:53:00.000-08:00

I've operated on very little sleep before. I've pulled all-nighters in trial offices, changed into a suit, and gone straight to court for trial. But, I've never been as tired as I am right now. I've had a draft post going for a few days now, but no time to finish it (while I HAVE had computer time, it has been with a baby in my arms, and I just didn't think I could manage a one-handed blog post). But, tonight, I'm determined to just finish and hit "publish." The result will likely be a bit of a brain dump, but hopefully coherent nonetheless. It'll also likely be long since there's been so much going on (hello, new baby!) so I totally understand if the only people that read it are those that are related to us ;o) I will try to sprinkle in some pictures with my incoherent ramblings. (Of course, we haven't taken many pictures -- and I feel TERRIBLE for my Mia, and now totally 100% understand why my mom has 8 million baby pictures of my older brother and so few of me . . . there's NO TIME for snapping pictures when you are playing one-on-one defense!).

I mentioned that Sammie B had the flu last week. It was AWFUL. She was actually sick for two weeks. She was out of school for a week, went back for two days, and then, the flu hit. She's generally such a healthy kid. I can count the number of times she's had colds on one hand, so this was sort of new territory to us. We've done specialists and seen our share of "ologists," but seeing her just plain SICK was new territory, and I hated every second of it. She got quite the high fever and was so very, very tired and just inconsolable. Refusing food, crying if we tried to wake her, pushing us away when we gave her medicine. Wanting to just lay on my chest and sleep and cry and whine. Heartbreaking. B and I were so worried that we had her sleep in our bed for several nights (that's right - four of us, one bed - very little sleeping for THREE straight nights), and during the days, her nanny and I just took turns laying with her while the other had Mia. It may sound silly, but she was SO not herself and so so sad, that I kept worrying that it was something bigger. I think part of the problem of being entrenched in this special needs world is that we know too much. We know kids whose simple fevers and simple flu have been much more. I hate that. I hate that my mind goes to dark places, I hate that it was all so scary. (And, I thank my stars for my mom, who patiently sat on the phone and let me cry and let me be scared and just supported and encouraged me like only a mother can).
But for us, this was JUST THE FLU, and we are so, so glad. After two days of not a single smile or laugh, Sammie B popped her head up Friday morning (in our bed) while I was getting dressed, and looked at me, and said, "boobies!" and giggled. We knew then that our girl was on the mend. She kept recuperating over the weekend - we took things slow and had a games/movie day in bed Saturday, but by Sunday night, she was HERSELF. Her magical little, giggly, amazing little self. And, I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

My sad sick girl:

The return of her smile:

So, that was that. The flu. It sucked.

What else in our world?

Well, here's the good stuff. In no particular order . . .

- Sam is still madly in love with her "Baby Mia." She wants to hold her all the time, which of course, is not practical. We try to find a good balance of letting her tickle Mia's feet, rub her head, etc. without always giving in and putting Mia on Sam's lap, since Sam's commitment to helping support Mia's head is spotty at best ;o)

- After Sam was feeling better we took her to the Disney Store to pick out a new stuffed animal (she picked Simba). On her own, she insisted we get Mia an animal too, and she picked Donald Duck for Mia. We are thrilled that Sam is so very in love with her sister, but of course, this transition period HAS brought its challenges (more on those in a second).

- So that we can close Sammie B's bedroom door at night (in hopes that Mia Monster doesn't wake her when she SCREAMS in the middle of the night) we bought one of those cameras/video monitors to have in Sam's room. Sam's had a rough time with bedtime lately (and even woke up crying for me a lot in the night right after I got home from the hospital, which is so out of her norm) so I told her about the camera. I showed it to her and showed her the monitor and explained that I could watch her sleep so that I'd know she was okay. That night, I put her to bed, and walked out and went to my room to feed Mia, and I looked over at the monitor, and saw my little Sammie B flashing that camera the best smiles ever. I thought "is she posing for the camera?" HILARIOUS. The next night, we had the same conversation about the camera and me checking on her during the night. That night, the little stinker looked right at the camera, smiled and said, "CHEESE!"

- The girls had their first bath together, which was comical at best. Sam enjoyed it immensely. She kept looking at Mia and just screaming with delight. But, Mia screamed with pure fury, and I had a hard time holding onto the slippery, angry little Mia Monster, so it might be the last bath together until Mia's a little bigger. But, still, a moment to remember.

- B's parents (aka Nana and Papa) came for a visit which was fantastic. B's mom stayed up with Mia until midnightish most nights and then brought her to me to feed her, so I got to go to bed early and get some sleep. Sam totally totally enjoyed her time with her grandparents too (even if she was unfortunately sick for part of it) so it was just a great visit. Caring for two small children is much easier with four adults than two (though B and I are managing to tag team it fairly effectively on our own too!). My mom comes next week, and I'm super excited to have her here (and to eat her Thanksgiving food!). I'm eager for Sammie B to get more special time with her Gigi, and for Gigi to take over some Mia duties so I can devote some special one-on-one time to Sammie B (and maybe get through the pile of mail that's accumulated since B's parents left!) Living far from our families is not easy, so we try to cherish the visits!

- One quick, cute Sammie B story. The other day when I put her down for a nap and covered her up, she said "Thank you mama." I said, "did you thank me for covering you?" and she said, "yeah." The sweetest. And that night, when I washed her hair in the bathtub, she thanked me again. Melt.

Okay, so those are some of the highlights of the good and the funny. I'm leaving a ton out, because certainly, every day has had some magic, share-worthy moments, but those are a few of my favorites.

But, as I mentioned, some of this transition stuff IS HARD. It's also probably just unfortunate timing that our girl started a new preschool, got a new sister, and got the flu all in three weeks time . . . a lot of change and drama for a three-year-old little girl. So, Sammie B has not totally been herself, and it has been hard for me. I've felt guilty, like I turned my girl's world upside down. Worrying about how to help her in this transition has kept me up at night, and thinking of ways to help her understand that even though she now has to share mama with another little creature (not to mention a very demanding one!) she's still my Sammie B and there's only one of her. I'm going to try to explain some of the difficult parts of the transition, but the overall theme is that I feel pulled. Torn. I feel like I've turned my first-born's world upside down and I've (we've) struggled with how to best help HER through the transition from a family of three to one of four. She's been the center of our universe for so very long. And, I guess more than anything, I've struggled with how best to show her that she STILL is, even if another tiny(demanding) person is in our universe too. I just can't stop thinking about what a heavy little burden this transition is for a three-year old.

We are trying to emphasize that Sammie is our "big girl" and make that a positive thing (e.g., only big girls get chocolate milk - Sam's favorite thing, etc.) But, at the same time, I don't want to overdo the "big girl" talk to the point that she thinks, "I don't want to be a big girl, being a big girl sucks, and Mia doesn't have to be a big girl." Sam has been doing things to indicate she'd like to be a baby again too (wanting to sit in Mia's car seat, asking for bottles when we give Mia bottles, etc.). In most of those moments, my gut tells me just let her pretend, and don't make a big deal out of it, and it'll pass.

I think it has made things harder that I was HOME and on bed rest for so long before Mia came. Sam got used to seeing me all day and me being around, even if she was with her nanny or in and out for therapy appointments. She really did grow into quite the "mama's girl" during that time, which I love. But, part of me wonders if that's making this harder for her. Because there are times when she wants me and ONLY me, and no one else will do. She had a hard time with me being in the hospital, and woke up SOBBING for a couple of nights after I came home asking for me. Each time, it was while I was feeding Mia, so B went to her and ended up sleeping with her. But, she was crying and saying "NO dada! Mama!!" I could hear her while I was feeding Mia, and I laid in my own bed and cried and worried that I'd broken my first born's heart. But, that passed, and within a few nights of me being home, Sammie B was back to sleeping through the night. (And the positive spin on all of this is that Sammie B got some great dada-time during all this, and I love watching their relationship evolve. Once she got sick, all bets were sort of off though, I couldn't NOT be there for her during that . . . but we managed. Mia had some bottles so that I could focus on Sam, and we got through it. Now that everyone's healthy again, we are figuring it out as we go. I've decided to pump for Mia and bottle feed her breast milk for now -- a hard decision but the best one for us -- and that is making the 'tag-teaming' aspect of parenting two little ones a little more manageable for me and B, and allowing me some good quality time with Sammie B in the evenings after spending my days focusing on Mia).

I think the hardest thing we've been dealing with on the Sam-front is whining. A LOT of it. Which is NOT her norm. And, with all that's been going on, it is so hard to disentangle what's due to her not feeling 100% versus her just having a hard time dealing with all the changes in her life versus just normal three-year-old stuff. Again, we are trying to just talk our way through things with her, and talk about not whining (I told her that her whining made me feel crazy (it does!) and we decided the next day's rule would be "no whining" and then I asked her how I feel when she whines and she gave me the most mischievous smile EVER and said, "HAPPY!" STINKER.) The good news is, talking about things with Sam always seems to help. The next day, we "reviewed" our talk about whining a few times, but it was a better day.

Another new thing is that for the FIRST time EVER Sam is crying when her nanny comes to get her in the mornings for school. She's fine the second they are out the door, and fine at school, so we know its not a school thing - it seems to be a leaving me thing. And, when she and her nanny are home, she doesn't want to go play with her nanny but just wants to be with me, which is hard. We really, really, really have tried in all of this to keep Sam's routine as consistent as possible, but I realized that me being here makes it harder for Sam. The thing is -- I was here for months on bed rest, and Sam was fine playing with her nanny in another room while I worked from bed or rested, or coming and going with her nanny, but now . . . I think it is hard because I'm with Mia. She's jealous. So, this week, I've tried something new . . . I'm getting up and getting OUT with Mia so that Sam and her nanny can have the house to themselves for a good part of the day. So that Sam's routine is a little more "her normal" and less disrupted by the arrival of her sister. And, this too seems to be helping. It's nice to come home and get to hear about Sam's day and her be excited to see me, rather than feeling all day like she's heartbroken that I can't play with her because I'm feeding Mia. It's also just been good for me - I'm getting out and doing things and still getting to spend one-on-one time with our newest lady during the day, and then coming home to my Sammie B and hearing about her day, doing dinner as a family/baths, etc.

This is, indeed, a learning process. We are feeling our way through it. Sammie B has had a WHOLE lot of change, and she's a little clingier, and a little whinier than normal, but we are talking our way through it and loving her through it, and I know we'll all come out okay. I know we aren't the first to go through this. But, knowing that doesn't necessarily make the mama guilt go away. I've gotten fantastic advice from my friends with 2+ kids (like giving Sam ways to help, having special "mama and Sammie B time and communicating that to her, etc.) and we have been putting all that advice into action - I know none of that is going to make it easier for her overnight, but I think it IS helping her. And, now, we just keep on loving her like crazy (that's the easy part!!) and hope that as time passes, we all adjust to this new chapter.

Finally, I miss work. I really, really miss work. I've been gone a long time. I know its a good thing that I miss it. I really do. I also realize that for ALL the guilt I feel as a working mother, my children are no worse for the wear because of it. Sammie B has an amazing nanny that works with her, that does her therapies with her, that takes her to her therapy appointments, etc., and having THAT allows me to be "mama" a little more and therapist a little less. I'm looking forward to the rest of my maternity leave, but at the same time, I think I too am looking forward to getting back to work, and back to MY routine. And, I know that when I do, that separation from me isn't a detriment to my kiddos -- seeing my independent, brave Sammie B get a little clingier during my time home has shown me that the separation CAN be a healthy thing for them too.

I know I'm not being as articulate as I'd like to be, but I'm (1) tired (I mentioned that, right?) and (2) sitting next to a very cute little baby that may very well wake up SCREAMING as if she's never eaten in her life any second now, so I feel like I'm racing against the clock to get this typed and posted.

Life is good. Life is exhausting. We are transitioning. We will make it. For every hard moment, there have been many, many more joyful ones. B and I are figuring out this "parenting two" thing together, one moment at a time, and we are doing okay. Better than okay.

Happy Birthday to My Best Friend

2011-11-14T21:40:00.001-08:00

Last week was a tough week (more on that to come - Sammie B had a TERRIBLE case of the flu complete with a very high fever that really scared us!). And, it always seems to be during the toughest of times that I realize how very grateful I am to be married to B. I even told him so (which admittedly, I should do more often!). As I told him last week (through tears after TWO completely sleepless nights up watching a sickie Sammie B sleep and feeding little Mia -- who has an insatiable appetite): this journey is full of ups and downs and hills and valleys, but there's no one I'd rather walk this journey with. He is, no doubt, my best friend and the love of my life. I cannot imagine a better "dada" to our TWO girls. And today was his birthday. So, happy birthday to YOU, my B!

With the events of last week, his birthday sort of snuck up on me. (Good thing I'm on maternity leave and had the day to run errands!). So, this morning, I asked Sammie B, "what would you like me to buy for you to give Dada for his birthday today?" She promptly answered "strawberries." So, while she was at school, I ran and got strawberries, some birthday cards, and cupcakes (he's buying an I-Phone as his big birthday gift). And, when B got home, we had a quick birthday celebration before he had to run out to meeting.

The memories of this night will make me smile for a long time. Sam handed him her gift, then promptly took it back and started opening it herself. Once the strawberries were out, she handed him the package and said, "OPEN!" and then grabbed one and started eating. Who was this gift for?!!! Funnnnny lady!

Since this was also my first night solo with both kiddos, I let Sammie B have a cupcake and strawberries for dinner. There goes my mom of the year award ;o)

Mr. B, I'm so lucky to share these moments -- these magical, wonderful moments of giggles, smiles, and love -- with you and our girls. So, so lucky. I love you.
Happy birthday to you!

Fourth (and First!) Halloween

2011-10-31T22:32:00.001-07:00

Our little chicken (2008):

My Sammie BEE (2009):

Rockin' with Mama (2010):

Minnie Mouse (2011):

Halloween was just infinitely more fun this year because Sammie B really 'got' it. She picked what she wanted to dress up as, we practiced saying "trick or treat" and talked about pumpkins, etc. and she got SO into it. She even watched "Nightmare Before Christmas" with B and LOVED LOVED LOVED it. We had the cutest conversation about trick or treating:

Me: When its Halloween, you'll go to people's doors and knock and then say "trick or treat" and they'll give you candy! So, what will you say?

Sammie B: THANK YOU!! YUM!!!

Me: That's what you'll say when they give you candy, but what do you say before that?

Sammie B: Trick or treat! Thank you!! YUM!!

She was a little shy tonight when we actually WENT trick or treating (just to a couple homes of people that we knew) and said the "trick or treat" part so quiet it was nearly inaudible, but her "thank yous" were loud and clear. Sweet girl.

And, this little one had her FIRST halloween tonight - she slept through most of it, then woke up (as we've found is her norm) FREAKING OUT in that "must eat right now" sort of way. She's got a fiery little personality and we've dubbed her "Mia Monster." Even Sammie B has joined in on the "Mia Monster" trend.

Happy Halloween from Sammie B, the Mia Monster, and parents!

On the Day You Were Born

2011-10-26T21:52:00.001-07:00

Even though I'm a little (um, a lot) sleep deprived, I want to write about Mia's birth while all the details are fresh in my head, so here goes.

On Monday, after Sammie B's first day of preschool and celebratory lunch, I came home to do my daily kick count (for those not in the know, "kick counts" mean laying and counting baby's kicks for an hour - and there should be at least ten). I got ten kicks, but they just felt weaker than normal. I'm a worrier like no other, so I called my doctor to explain and asked if she was worried. She wasn't, and said that Mia had probably just dropped, but told me that she knew I would worry so that I should just run to the hospital and ask to be monitored for 20 minutes and that she'd call ahead and let them know I was coming. (Making this my FOURTH trip to Labor & Delivery during this pregnancy). So, once again . . . off I went. I told B there was no reason for him to go -- nothing about this trip indicated this would be "it" so he came home to hang with Sammie B while I drove to the hospital, thinking I'd be back within an hour or so for our pizza dinner and continued celebrations!

As I was driving to the hospital, suddenly baby Mia was moving and grooving and kicking up a storm. I called B and said, "this is silly, I should just go home, right?" and he said, "no, just go, you'll feel better." So, I did. And, for 19 minutes of monitoring, Miss Mia behaved like a champ. Then, literally AS they were about to take me off the monitor, her heart rate decelerated. For a mama of a child with CP, decelerations are a scary thing (Sam had many during my labor with her, and I've often since wondered if one of those were the moments was a sign that she was in distress that caused her CP). I tried not to panic, and the nurses said they weren't panicking, and the doctors said they weren't, but they wanted to monitor me a little bit longer, so I stayed.

And, then, out of nowhere, I started having contractions. And they kept getting more and more painful. B was on stand-by, our childcare for Sam was on stand-by and we were just kind of waiting to see what would happen. The nurses all predicted this was "it" and baby was coming. I had one contraction that was loooooong, and Mia's heart went down again (scary!) so they decided to keep me overnight. Then, at 3 am in the morning, the contractions just stopped. At 6 am, they were discharging me. I was texting with B, joking about something on Twitter, and just waiting on the discharge papers when . . . Mia's heart rate went down again. And this time, the quick fixes (flipping me to my side) didn't get it right back up and like 7 people came running into my room. They put an oxygen mask on me. I watched as her heart rate went down and I panicked. Like the worst panic attack of my life. I was on oxygen so I couldn't talk so I dialed B's number and a nurse told him to get to the hospital. After I managed to calm down (you know, deep, slow, calm breaths when you are SCARED TO DEATH and SOBBING), Mia's heart rate normalized.

My doctor came, explained that Mia was just not tolerating contractions and that this wasn't that uncommon, but that she didn't want to take any chances. She wanted to deliver the baby, by c-section, that day. Understandably so, I started really worrying about these decelerations and what they meant, but as my doctor had told me before - out of every 1,000 births that have abnormal heart rate tracings, only TWO of those will statistically end up with CP. TWO. I could go on and on about how THAT makes me feel. (You know, like WHY did Sammie B have to be in those TWO? Why MY girl? My magical, amazing Sammie B who I WISH didn't have to struggle so. . . . but I'm truly, truly trying not to go "there" now.)

So, we scheduled the c-section for noon. At 8:06 am, B texted me, "parking. I'm here." He got to my room about 8:15, when Mia's heart dipped a little AGAIN (during a small contraction) and my doctor said, "I don't want to wait, I'm delivering you now, let's take her to O.R. 3." So with very little time to process what was going on, B was suiting up in his fancy c-section outfit, and I was wheeled away for an epidural. And, Baby Mia was born at 8:50 am, less than 45 minutes after B arrived at the hospital!

She came out screaming and pink, and I sobbed listening to her. Laying on the O.R. table, I couldn't help but remember my Sammie B coming out NOT crying. Those agonizing minutes (seconds?) of waiting for her to cry. And, this time . . . this time my doctor had been proactive and fast, and my baby was screaming. B said he kept running back and forth from her to me - to see her, to hold my hand (he says I was most definitely crying harder than her). It was all intense and surreal and there were just emotions I can't probably put into words. B cut the cord, we held her right away, she got to go to recovery with me, she was in our room at the hospital. All things we didn't get to do with Sammie B . . . and even though I know these were Mia's moments, I couldn't help but flashback to Sam's birth and the NICU stay. I couldn't help but wonder if the doctor that delivered Sam had been faster, more proactive, and rushed me to a c-section after the decelerations, if my girl would still be struggling. So even though I don't want to go THERE, it has been hard not to.

Sammie B arrived at the hospital to meet her little sister just hours later, and that goes down into my "favorite moments of all times" category . . . she was absolutely over the moon DELIGHTED. Squealing, laughing, loving. We asked her if she wanted to hold her sister, and she said, "yeah, wash my hands!" (She remembered this from the movie we watched at her Big Sister class!).

And then, she held her. And my heart melted. Seeing my two girls - my daughters - together for the first time. Absolutely magical and amazing and all things wonderful.

Sammie B visited us each day in the hospital, and each day arrived excited to hold her little sister. The second day, I'd even sent Mia to the nursery for a little bit, thinking it would be nice to spend a few minutes alone with Sammie B (who was missing mama terribly while I was in the hospital and kept asking for me to come home). But, as soon as she arrived, Sammie B was looking everywhere for "baby Mia" and wanted to go get her. And immediately said, "mama, wash my hands!" (Does she melt you like she does me?) Each day, she just wanted to hold her sister. And I just wanted to hold them both!

After the first night, B slept at home with Sammie B, so Mia and I were alone in our hospital room. It may have been pregnancy hormones, but on that first night we were alone, I laid her down on my bed in front of me, and I poured my heart out my youngest daughter.

I told her that I was scared. I told her about her magical big sister and how much I thought she'd love her. I told her that her big sister was already madly in love with her. I told her that her sister had been the center of my universe for three years, and that I was worried and scared about how I would handle having TWO centers to my universe (because there's no doubt, they will both be at the center of my universe, where they belong!). I told her how her sister had shaped who I am as a person and as a mother, and that there were pieces of me that were just always going to worry too much. I told her that I was sorry that on HER day, her birthday, my mind kept going to her sister's birthday and wondering how things could have been different. How one different decision might have changed the course of Sammie B's life . . . and maybe, just maybe, meant she'd have struggled less.

I told her that I knew she'd learn so much from her big sister, and that she'd teach her many things too. That I couldn't wait to watch them grow together, and that even though right now, I felt overwhelmed by the prospect of mothering two little girls, that I felt quite inadequate for the job, that I knew that by having Miss Mia, I'd just given Sammie B the greatest gift of her life, and that the two of them would always be amazing assets to one another. As I talked to Mia, I sobbed. And somehow, all the fear I'd felt about how I'd love another little girl just melted away. Suddenly, I felt such peace knowing that I just would. My heart felt fuller than ever before, and I looked at Mia and just felt so in love and so, so eager to take her home and have my little family all under one roof. Home.

And, during our little talk, I promised my Mia that just as Sam is writing HER story, I promise to try, every single day, to let Mia write her own too. To not constantly be thinking about how things might have been different for Sam if her birth had been different. To not look at Mia's milestones and wish they'd come easier to Sam. I know this won't be easy, but Mia deserves it.

And, more than anything, I just feel so, so blessed to get to be a part of two little girl's - my two daughter's - stories. I can't wait to watch them unfold.

My sweet Mia, I am already so in love with you, and I look forward to each and every day watching YOU find your place in this world and our family, and to watching you and your sister become friends and teach each other amazing, wonderful things. And, I have no doubt that you will teach ME things too, just as your sister has. While I hope that your story and your sister's are always intertwined, yours is yours and hers is hers. And, I'm just playing a supporting role to both of you!

Our little family of three is now one of four, and while I have no doubts the moments of being overwhelmed will come and go, it all feels so fabulous and wonderful.

Tonight, Sammie B and Mia laid in the floor together, with Sammie just playing with Mia's toes, and I looked at B and said, "can you believe they are both ours?" And my universe felt perfect, and centered . . . with two centers.

MY TWO GIRLS.

Just a Quickie I want to Share - Some Kids Wear Leg Braces

2011-10-25T09:01:00.001-07:00

I recently bought this book for Sammie B (after a friend posted about it on facebook):

http://www.amazon.com/Some-Kids-Braces-Understanding-Differences/dp/1429617772/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1319558522&sr=8-1

I also bought copies for all her cousins. (Your copy may be coming to a mailbox near you soonish!)

Guess what? Sammie B LOVES it. I showed it to her, read her the title, and said, "do you know anyone that wears leg braces?" and she said, "Sammie B!" Then we read it together, and when I turned to the pages with kids with walkers and braces, she smiled and said, "ME!" And when I read the pages about how kids with braces are just like other kids (they like to play, they like their friends, etc.), she smiled bigger and said, "ME!"

Kind of melted my heart.

Since then, she's requested it nearly every night as one of her bedtime stories, and she gets most excited over the page where a little girl about her age is in a walker and playing at a little basketball hoop (something Sam does in PT). And, when B read it to her and asked her if she liked her leg braces, she said, "YEAH!" and he said, "do they help you?" and "what do they help you do?" and she said "WALKING!"

She loves that book. I love that she loves it. What a great find!

We are home!

2011-10-23T21:36:00.000-07:00

Mia and I came home yesterday, and I have a lot to tell (like how surreal it felt to walk out of the hospital WITH my baby, just days after giving birth to her . . . Brian and I both said we felt like criminals or something, it was so different than walking out with your baby in the NICU) or how exhausting (yet awesome) our first 36 hours at home have been, and how Sam is simultaneously in love with her sister but also having a hard time adjusting to sharing me (or how heart shattering this feels to me -- like I'm letting my first girl down when I'm feeding her sister and Sammie B wants me and only me . . . ). A lot to share, a lot to work through, but so little time to sleep! So, I'll save the substance for later, and instead just give you the "outtakes" from our attempt to get the PERFECT going home shot of our two girls yesterday (by the way, Mia wears the same dress home that I wore 32 years ago, and that Sam wore three years ago!).

We never got the "perfect" shot we envisioned, but these shots will likely be amongst my favorite pictures always.

This first one is my favorite. I imagine 30 or 50 years from now, I'll still look at it and smile, thinking about how wonderful and funny this moment was. Mia was falling off of Sam's lap, and Sam sort of pushed up on Mia's shoulder trying to get her back up, then just said "oops!" and "help!"

Also priceless (we've learned that when we can't get a smile for a picture, we can always request, and get, a silly face):

The only one we got where Sammie B is really smiling:

This is actually a yawn from Mia not a scream. She was incredibly tolerant. (I guess second children have to be?)

And, in this one, Sammie B is DONE. She's pushing Mia off her lap, and saying "Mama!" because she wanted me to take Mia back.

What a wonderful day it was. An exhausting night followed, but even in my complete and utter exhaustion, these pictures make me smile. Big. I feel so, so blessed to have these two girls.

Introducing . . . the miniest B!

2011-10-20T14:02:00.000-07:00

Mia Ryan was born on Tuesday morning, Oct. 18, at 8:50 am, 6 lbs and 11 oz, by emergency c-section. Birth story to follow soon, but for now, pictures!!!

She's a beautiful little lady and she and I are both doing well!

Sammie B's first meeting with her sister goes down as one of the most magical, incredible, amazing moments of my life! She kept squealing, laughing, saying "MIA!" and didn't want to ever put her down or let anyone else hold her. It's love.

SISTERS. My two girls.

Just a tiny glimpse into our first few days with Mia - will try to post more pictures when we are home!!!

Her First Day

2011-10-20T13:51:00.000-07:00

Monday was Sammie B's first day of preschool. She LOVED it. I went with her in the morning, met some of the therapists, got to see her taking it all in at circle time in her Sammie B way, and then left. I went back to pick her up with some surprise balloons and then me, her, and her nanny went out for a celebratory lunch (hot dog, french fries, ice cream for her!). It was a great day! She has been really excited to go back to her "new school" each day, and while there are still some details of her IEP to work out, I'm feeling encouraged and optimistic. The classroom is definitely wilder than her previous program, so I told B I know she's being pushed outside of her comfort zone -- she really seemed to just take it all in that first day -- but B reminded me -- the previous program was outside her comfort zone at first too, and she THRIVED there. So far, so good!

(Here's a quick picture from the celebratory lunch - ketchup is her new passion - she loves dipping. She's been requesting ketchup on EVERYTHING and we usually give in ;o) She learned the hard way that macaroni and cheese and ketchup do not go together so well . . . so she may not request that combo again!).

God, I love this little girl.

The best story from the day: At circle time in the am, the class sang "Do you know the muffin man?" one of Sam's favorite songs. But after the regular verse, they did "do you know the ice cream man," and then "do you know the donut man," and Sam giggled and squealed "OH MY GOD!" as if she couldn't believe they were messing up the words! Funny lady!

We are so, so excited for Sam to be part of a preschool program with some academics mixed in - the little lady LOVES to learn. We feel like so much of her first three years have been spent working on her weak areas, and we just are so excited for her to have this time to do things in the areas she's so very strong in - learning, meeting friends, etc. The lesson of the day on Monday was the color black, which she knows well, so she did fabulously, and also just jumped right into the routine, picked her name out of the list of kid's names to find her own chair, cubby, etc. Awesome day, awesome girl!

Her resiliency and ability to adapt to change with such grace is an inspiration to me.

Our Babymoon!

2011-10-16T21:34:00.000-07:00

Friday, after B got home from work, the three of us headed out to a weekend I'd planned as a surprise for B and Sammie B to celebrate me making it to FULL-TERM and being off of bed rest. We did the weekend on a tight budget, but I got a discount rate (for being an alum of my law school) for a room near the beach and mountains (only about 30 minutes from us and the hospital too!), and even though we didn't do that much, it was just what we needed. A little getaway with my FAVORITE two people in anticipation of our little threesome becoming a foursome!

Friday night, we didn't get to the hotel until 6:30 (and the fog was thick and sort of canceled out our "ocean view room," but use your imagination!), so we went out to a nice dinner and then back to the room to put on our jammies and to watch a movie (Babe, Sammie B's pick) and snuggle in bed. (It was worth the price of the hotel room just to sleep with our sweet girl, we transitioned her into her room and own bed in January, so even though sometimes we REALLY want her to sleep in our bed at home, we reallllly try to stick with her bedtime routine and her in her own bed).

Saturday morning, I had hoped for brunch and then the beach, but the weather wasn't great, so the beach was out. But, we still enjoyed the scenery (imagine no fog and the ocean in the distance in these first two pictures . . . this scenery is what makes so-cal real estate prices almost worth it!).

Then, we did brunch and asked Sammie B what she wanted to do . . . (even though I'm not on bed rest, we are still *trying* for me to not do a ton of walking/activity, on the assumption that making it to 38 or 39 weeks would be great) . . . and she said "home! new table!" Of all the things she could have picked, ALL she wanted was to go home and play at her new table she got for her birthday. She also wanted a balloon. SO, we hit a kid's hair salon on our way home to get her a trim that she desperately needed (her third haircut, believe it or not!) and a balloon, and then, we headed home for lunch, lots of play (at the new table!), and a nap.

After our nap, we headed to the park by our house for a quick picnic for dinner and some boat watching.

We ended what was a perfect Saturday with ice cream, and then headed home, put sweet Sammie B to bed, and B and I watched a movie together. And today, we just relaxed and got things ready for Sammie B to start her new school tomorrow (which is sure to be a big day - we do "first days" BIG around here!).

Perfect weekend. Perfect babymoon. And here's to the era of us as a threesome ending and a new chapter beginning. Sometime soon.

So, that IEP . . .

2011-10-14T09:20:00.000-07:00

Just a quick update on Sam's school situation, since she's starting Monday (and I'm so very, very hopeful baby won't come THAT day so I can take Sam to school and do our traditional "first day" party afterward!).

The IEP happened. I don't want to say much about it, because we are appealing some of the desicions, and while we are hopeful we'll work out our disagreements through the informal dispute resolution process, it could potentially go to more formal legal action. For now, we signed to have the IEP implemented as written, but noted our dissent to just a couple of issues and filed a request for dispute resolution.

BUT, here's the highlights.

First, we were offered two different school placements, both the type of program we wanted Sam in, so that she'll be challenged cognitively. The challenge though is that she will be the only non-mobile kid in the program, but we are hopeful that with the right supports in place, this will be a great fit. We had a hard time deciding between the two schools, until we met the teachers. Our struggle was that one classroom was bigger, probably easier for a child in a gait trainer to navigate AND that playground had more options for Sam - like a water table, playhouses, etc., in addition to the large playground structure that the other school had BUT we weren't AS crazy about the teacher in the school with the better, more accessible space. So, I called the teacher that we felt the best about and on her own initiative, she started suggesting ways to make the classroom and playground more accessible to Sam, and to making sure she had real, meaningful options on the playground. She immediately seemed open to anything that would work (and to working with US), and like she was just an incredible advocate for her students. So, that sort of made the desicion easy.

The actual IEP meeting went as well as we could have hoped for. As I said afterward, I wouldn't wish the IEP process on my worst enemy, because sitting in a room of EIGHT strangers and talking about your child's weaknesses and needs for FOUR hours is emotionally exhausting BUT I will say that we got really lucky with our team. They truly, truly seemed to want to make the effort to understand and "get" Samantha; they did not underestimate her in anyway; and they seemed truly interested in setting goals for her that she could reach and that paralleled our vision for her. There were parts of the meeting where my eyes welled up with tears (mostly just moments where the weight of it all hit me), but I didn't cry.

We got the services we wanted for her, we got the placement we wanted, but the team didn't have the discretion to give Sam a one-on-one aide for mobility and safety support, which we believe is critical to her continuing to make the physical progress she's making. We worry that without that support for transitions within the classroom, on a busy day, Sam will end up just sitting and passively observing as other students mill about. We don't want that for her. We want someone who will actively help her make transitions, and encourage her to "assist" them with those transitions (e.g. not just push or carry her from location to location). In a classroom of kids that are also sure to be more mobile, faster, and in many cases bigger than her (the kids are 3 - 4 years old), a one-on-one is also necessary for her safety - she can't move out of the way of other kids, she cannot protect herself from falls, etc. So, even though the team agreed that she needed an aide to safely access the school environment, we did not get that through the IEP, and have appealed. In the meantime, while I'm on maternity leave, our nanny will be going with Sam as her one-on-one. This isn't a long term or perfect solution (we know for Sam's own independence, having her nanny there might not be the best situation - she could be sort of a 'crutch,') but for now - at least until maternity leave is over and this appeal is HOPEFULLY resolved favorably, this seems like the best solution.

B and I are nervous. Of all the weighty desicions we've made in the last three years, this one felt the hardest, the weightiest. The most grown-up and scary. I will say that we truly, truly were a great team in all of it, and my research and preparation in advance paid off ten-fold in the IEP -- just because WE felt prepared and ready. But it was exhausting.

It is hard to trust that these new therapists, new teachers, new PEOPLE will always have Sam's best interests at heart. We know we had a great IEP team this year, but we worry it won't always go that way. We KNOW with Sam's education, we will always have to be vigilant and fight for what she needs. We worry that as she gets older, the programs offered WON'T be a good fit, and we've talked about moving out of our district, or considering private options (though even that is tough - we toured private options this go-round, and nothing was a perfect fit either). But for now, we table all that "what-if'ing" about upcoming years, and focus on hoping THIS year is a great one for Sammie B. This is all a huge leap of faith for us, but we feel good about her teacher, and I think that's probably the most important thing (as my mom wisely said, "a good teacher can make the best of a less-than-ideal space or resources; a bad teacher can't necessarily do 'good' even in a perfect space with perfect resources"). We took Sam to see her new classroom and to meet the teacher, and she's excited about her new school.

And, each night before I fall asleep, I sort of "acknowledge" my hopes and dreams for Sammie B . . . for myself, for some higher power, for the universe, and I guess my greatest hope in this next year is just that the RIGHT people walk into her life, even when B and I can't "cherry-pick" each of them - in terms of teachers, aides, therapists, etc. - to empower and enable our girl to be her very best self. Here's to hoping!

Full-Term!

2011-10-14T09:04:00.001-07:00

I made it!!! I'm officially 37 weeks, or "full-term" today!! It feels really, really good. Now, Baby Mia can come at anytime . . . so we wait. With excitement, nervousness, and anticipation.

To celebrate, I've planned a little surprise get-away for me, B, and Sammie B (not far! I don't want to be more than a 30 minute drive from the hospital, just in case). But, we had to cancel our summer vacay back when I got put on bed rest, so this is sort of our re-do. And, we'll be celebrating the last weekend before Sammie B starts her new preschool on Monday, which she's really excited about! :o)

There have been so many ups and downs in this pregnancy, and its brought up so much emotion for me. Lots of talk about Sam's birth and my pregnancy with her. It's been . . . well, heavy. Now that I'm here - full-term - I'm a little sad that I really haven't enjoyed much of this pregnancy, but no looking back. We have made it. And, we'll get a baby as our prize.

I saw both my OB and high-risk OB yesterday. The high-risk OB did an ultrasound and estimated baby's weight at 6 lbs 5 oz. She also said that baby has NOT dropped, so the "any day now" thing may not be so accurate. It's anyone's guess when the baby will come. Meanwhile, I'll continue to suffer (with gratitude for a full-term pregnancy, but not without OCASSIONAL complaining) with insomnia, restless legs, shortness of breath, and the most awful heartburn ever. (Yes, this was my list of questions for my doctors yesterday, and they both said, "yep, that's third trimester pregnancy!"). So, here we are. Waiting (but not sleeping!). In eager anticipation, and utter and total relief. Full-term.

Sit Tight Sister!!

2011-10-11T12:06:00.000-07:00

Cervix Watch 2011 is being renamed "Baby Watch 2011," as we had our first official "false alarm" last night . . . (I like to think of it as a "dry run" for us!).

Around 11 am yesterday, my stomach started cramping, then contracting. I counted contractions for two hours, laid down, drank water, and they kept coming. So, I called my doctor completely sure she'd say, "that's not enough to go to Labor and Delivery - stay put." But, she didn't. She said go to Labor & Delivery. Off I went. B was home yesterday because of the holiday, so he stayed with Sammie B while I headed to the hospital, completely expecting to be monitored and sent home. We didn't want to use up our emergency, stand-by childcare goodwill for a false alarm, so it just made sense for me to go ahead by myself (and the contractions, while frequent, weren't very painful).

I got to the hospital, they hooked me up to monitors, and it turns out I was contracting even more frequently than I thought. At one point, they were every three minutes and starting to hurt worse. B came to the hospital, and we were both a little freaked out thinking we were having a baby! Then, around 8 pm, they decided to put me on IV fluids just to see if the contractions would lessen -- I didn't expect them to, particularly since I'd drank GALLONS of water already. But, they hooked me up and . . . the contractions stopped. They ended up keeping me for the night for monitoring and then sent me home early this morning. So, no baby. But, I am dilated a little, and based on my doctor's exam, she's expecting this babe in the next few days. I'm just 3 days shy of full-term (37 weeks). I think B and I would both like to make it to full-term - we recognize that the difference between 36 weeks and 4 days versus 37 weeks may be pretty insignificant, but it is just a huge emotional hurdle for us. But, we'll see!

Once I realized I was maybe being admitted and having a baby, I started feeling sad that I hadn't really gotten to talk to Sammie B about it before I left for the hospital. She had been just about to nap, and I was so surprised my doctor wanted me to go, and so sure it wasn't "it," that I just kissed her, said bye and walked out. I felt like I should have had more of a quality moment before heading out to give birth to her sister. I kept messaging B and asking how Sammie B was after she woke up from her nap, and he said she was crying and asking for me. He told her I'd gone to the doctor, and she kept saying "baby?" He actually took her out for a ride in her yellow car, and she got in, excited to ride, but then, started crying and saying "mama!" He sent me a picture of her sitting in her car with such a sad face that just broke my heart!

Soon after that though, B said he ran around the courtyard roaring and flapping his arms like a dragon (a favorite after she saw Shrek the Musical) and that made her forget her woes and she was a happy girl in no time, cruising around the courtyard, and stopping only to check herself out in the mirror.

After all was said and done and we knew we weren't having a baby (at least not QUITE yet), B and I both said we simultaneously felt relieved and a little let down. But, I came home and spent the day resting, and then took a nice long nap with Sammie B and watched Dora in bed before B got home. And, Sam and I laid together and had a little chat about Mia's impending birth and how much I love my Sammie. It felt good. Like we (okay, its just me!) are readying ourselves for this transition. So, as I get ready for bed tonight, it is a little weird to wonder WHEN it is going to happen, and also HOW I will know when its the REAL DEAL . . . I don't want to false alarm a million times! (With Sam, my water broke at home before contractions started, so I just KNEW, this feels more amorphous!).

Anyway, since we know it is likely to be SOON, I thought I'd take the time to write (another) short letter for my first girl:

Dear Sammie B:

I think your little sister is going to be joining us soon. I can't wait to meet her, and even more than that, I cannot wait for the moment YOU meet her. You, my darling, are so so ready. You talk about "Baby Mia" all the time, and how she's going to "get born" out of "mama's bah-nie-hah," and when I have told you that Baby Mia is not ready just yet to be born, you've told me YOU are "ready." You are so, so excited.

I know that when Baby Mia is actually here, you will feel that excitement, and probably some other stuff too -- it will be an adjustment for you to share your parents with someone else. But, I have no doubt that you will be an amazing big sister, and that you will teach your little sister so very, very much.

The last few months, since I've been home on bed rest, we've gotten to spend much, much more time together than when I'm working, and you have become a little "mama's girl." You don't like me out of your sight, and that just melts my heart. It is funny because I've had so much guilt over what I HAVEN'T been able to do for you the last few months -- I've not been able to get up and down off the floor as easily to play with you, I haven't been able to work with you on your physical therapy exercises as much, and have had to leave that stuff to your daddy and nanny, and I've felt so bad. Like I somehow wasn't giving you all that you needed. But, today, as we sat together and watched a movie, cuddled up, me thinking about how soon our little family may be plus one, I realized . . . I've given you EXACTLY what you needed. A whole lot of quality mom time - and a whole lot more snuggles. And you haven't cared that a lot of that time may have been sitting and reading books, or having the occasional movie afternoon in bed. And, I feel so, so lucky to have had this magical time with you. Magical, wonderful you.

The other day, your dad was working on going up stairs with you. Even though it was so, so hard for you, we kept encouraging you, dada was helping you and just encouraging you to push with your legs, and together, you and dada went up 5 steps. At the top, you seemed so tired, and you started crying and reached for me, and just wrapped your little arms around me and held me and rested your head on my shoulder, while I told you I was proud, and I know it was hard. You my girl, are amazing. These little moments, shared between you and I, absolutely melt me. You've stolen my heart in a way I didn't even know was possible.

And, as we move ahead, knowing that our little family of three is about to be one of four, I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't terrified. I am. I am so, so afraid that I won't be good enough to mother two children. But as scared as I am, I know it will work out. We'll find our way. Our new normal. And, there WILL be enough of me, there just will.

So, as our little world grows, I just want you to know how very very happy and proud you make me feel, every single day. I cannot wait to watch you grow with your sister, and teach each other amazing things. And, you, Sammie B, will always be the little girl that made me "mama." And, I am the mama that I am because of you. Magical, amazing you.

Baby Mia is going to be so, so lucky to have you as her big sister.

- Mama

On Causes and Labels and Disability Awareness Month

2011-10-11T11:25:00.000-07:00

"Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will." - Mohandas Gandhi.

October is Disability Awareness Month. B volunteers on a local government advisory board, and they've been planning various activities and talking about ways to promote disability awareness. As I googled and looked for events near us, I had a brief moment of thinking "is this 'our cause?'" I'm not sure this is something I'm going to be able to really articulate, but I guess I struggle with balancing making Sam's "disability" a "cause" versus not wanting it to be the focus of our lives to the extent that "disability" somehow becomes a label that OTHERS use to define her or to distract from all the other aspects of her (or us as a family). I WANT to make others more aware. I WANT others to be more sensitive, empathetic, and understanding of my girl. I WANT local establishments to be more accessible to people with varying disabilities, but at the same time, I don't want "disability" to be what people think of when they think of Sammie B. Because she is so, so, so much more more. When I post little pictures of her at therapy on facebook, or note her accomplishments there, I'm always conscious not to be too therapy-centric on facebook, if that makes sense. I KNOW that our reality, our normal is a little different from some of our friends with typically-developing children, and I guess I want to share the magic and determination and spirit of my girl in every way possible, but I don't want them to think that THAT stuff (therapy, disability, CP) is our lives. It's not. Yes, there are things about CP that make our lives a little more challenging (ever tried shoe shopping for a three-year-old to find shoes that fit OVER an orthotic?), but that doesn't mean CP defines us or our girl. It's just part of our new normal.

Another blog I read often refers to the things that are part of their lives because they live in "CP Land." It is true. My world - our world - involves a lot of therapy, some equipment, and appointments that others' lives may not. As we transition to this new PT (who so far, we love), we are trialing new leg braces, gait trainers, working on things our old PT didn't pick up on (and yes, there's a little regret that we didn't switch sooner, but I'm trying to NOT look back). Sometimes, I feel like we are taking steps backward - but I know we are still headed in the same direction (forward!). For example, Sam's been willing (and loves) to take assisted steps for a long time. She loves walking when we hold her trunk. But, because the leg braces she was wearing are hard plastic, it was kind of like she's walking in a ski boot - knees locked, heels first, weight shifted backward (try heel walking, you'll understand) . . . the new PT, who I've said before is just so very perceptive, had an idea to try a different brace for Sam. Neither she nor our orthotist have ever used this particular brace (Kiddie Gait) on a kiddo as young as Sam, but thought it was worth a try. We just have a trial pair now, but we can already see less knee-locking. And, now, instead of just holding her up and letting her fling her legs out to take steps, we are really working on showing her and talking her through how to make very functional purposeful steps with her knees bent and pushing through her weight on her whole foot. There's a learning curve . . . she's taking smaller, more timid steps, and sometimes getting her feet tangled, but I know that's just because this is new to her. The steps themselves are just more functional. So, a few steps backward, but headed in the same forward direction.

Since we got the clinical CP diagnosis (meaning Sam presents as a kid with CP, even though she had a normal MRI, because we've ruled other causes out, we've sort of landed ourselves a CP diagnosis), I've said "my daughter has CP" several times (during the IEP assessment process, in doctors' appointments, etc.) Sometimes, I say it and don't bat an eye. Other times it stings. I've realized it is easier to say "my daughter has CP" than to feel like I have to explain the developmental delay, our search for a diagnosis, etc. etc. There are moments I appreciate the ease of this, of not needing the 20 minute explanation that always drew opinions/thoughts I didn't necessarily need (e.g. my OB throwing out her own ideas of what "it" could be even though we've seen a trillion pediatric specialists who've run a trillion tests). But, then there are moments (like in her IEP) when the words are spoken and sound so clinical --"Samantha has cerebral palsy" -- that I get a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes.

These things are - no doubt - a big part of our lives. With this third-trimester insomnia in particular, my head swims with thoughts of IEPs, therapy, new braces, etc. at night (I would say my anxiety about these things isn't CAUSING my insomnia, rather, the insomnia is just a breeding ground for the anxiety!), but our days . . . are NOT defined by Sam's disability. They are defined by the other stuff. The stuff that REALLY makes her who she is . . . her magic, her grace, her sense of humor, her smile, her giggle, the love that just emanates from her, her determination, her strong-will. All the things that make her magical Sammie B.

I guess what I'm trying to say (and not fully able to articulate) is that while we need friends who are emphathetic and understanding of the ways in which our reality is a little different and sometimes more challenging, we don't want them to see just that. It is kind of like when people do that annoying thing where they are telling a story about someone -- completely unrelated to their race or ethnicity -- but they still describe the person as a "black guy" or whatever. As I've become more entrenched in this SN world, I'm more sensitive to it. . . and I often hear people talking about someone they know whose son is autistic or who has CP, or whatever "difference" when its totally irrelevant to what they are saying. I guess I just hate to think that people describe Sam as "a little girl with CP" . . . she's so much more, and I feel like that description -- that label -- discounts her magic in a way that just hurts my heart.

So, if there's anything I want our friends and family and Sammie B's fans to take away from this disability awareness month and the glimpses into our lives that they have, it is this:

"Disability" is just a tiny part of our girl. Just like your eye color, or hair color, or the shape of your nose is only a tiny facet of you. The other stuff is so, so, so much more of "who she is." And, while much of mine and B's time and thoughts and efforts go into finding ways to empower and enable our girl because of her disability, those efforts do not define her or us as a family. We are so much more.

We have this magical little girl that makes us more "aware" each and every day. She teaches us every single day. And while there are certainly parts of this journey that are harder than others, and while we may not have envisioned this path for our child (or us), we are so, so blessed to be walking this path with her. And, not a single day goes by that we don't think of her -- and our lives -- as a blessing.

My girl will do amazing things in this life. You just wait. (She already is!).

The Ways She Makes Us Giggle

2011-10-08T12:56:00.000-07:00

I'm linking up with Love that Max again. This time we are sharing the ways our kids make us giggle with their cuteness.

I've already posted my bah-nye-nah story, which thus far, is pretty much my favorite hysterical Sammie B moment, but there are others (there's plenty of her cuteness to share!).

Like these adorable pictures I just took before she headed out on a date with her dada (to see Shrek the Musical) while my fabulous friends bring "Mom's Night Out" to me tonight for a "Mom's Night In."

A few other moments of cuteness and giggles worth sharing:

- The other day, B was on his blackberry, tweeting while we were eating at the table (yes, we are BOTH guilty of the blackberries-at-the-table thing). . . I said, "Sammie B, Dada is 'tweeting' at the table," and she said, with immediate and appropriate indignation, "EXCUSE ME DADA!"

- B and a friend were recently telling a story about someone at work, and one of them said the word "Alimony," and out of no where, Sammie B yelled "Alimony, EW!" Now, anytime we say something is gross, or we say "Ew!," she says, "Alimony, EW!" and wrinkles up her nose in disgust.

- The other morning, she dropped her Elmo and said, "Oops! Excuse me, Elmo!" Polite little lady!

- She LOVES playing freeze dance-type games right now. . . . loves making us "stop" and "go," and the other night, B and her sat and played "freeze dance" with a couple of her dolls - B would make them dance, and she would yell "STOP!" and "GO!" to control what he was doing, while laughing hysterically. This game ("Stop and Go!") is a big hit in the car as well, but gets old for mama and dada pretty quickly! (And doesn't work well in traffic).

Giggles and magic from my girl!

Closing Out the Birthday Week in Pictures!

2011-10-02T23:03:00.000-07:00

Our little family of three has had a lovely weekend. B and I have been readying the house for the new babe (he put together all the baby gear, installed car seats, etc., while I did laundry and folded it from bed), and this whole "our family is growing" thing suddenly seems so very very real. I think because this pregnancy has had so many ups and downs, I've been so focused on staying pregnant, that I haven't really let myself think too much about the prize at the end of it. But this weekend, seeing Sammie B's old baby swing in the living room, trying out our new double stroller, folding tiny (TINY!) baby clothes, etc., suddenly, it is real. I'm excited, I'm nervous, I'm scared.

Sammie B on the other hand, is ALL excitement. She probably feels like we've been talking about "Baby Mia" forever but that she's never coming . . . each new thing we put together for the baby, Sammie would exclaim, "Baby Mia _____!" (e.g. "Baby Mia BED!" "Baby Mia Swing!"). And, I would say, "that's right, that's where baby Mia will sleep," or "yep, this is for Baby Mia!" and Sammie followed with a frustrated, "Baby Mia, where are you?!" She's ready. She's excited. She's going to be a great big sister. And, as scared as I am, I know I'll figure out (we'll figure out) how to parent two little ladies too.

I'm still hopeful baby Mia waits a few more weeks to arrive -- I want her to be full-term (Oct. 14) and I still have a LONG to-do list, including getting Sammie B registered for preschool (the whole IEP thing is a post itself, which I hope to get to!) . . . so much to do!

Anyway, now that B and I have both posted our birthday letters for Sammie B, the comparison pictures are posted, etc., I thought I'd close out the "birthday week" posts with one full of pictures of the occasion and some of Sammie B's presents!

On Saturday, the day of her birthday, we opened presents with the grandparents, and then headed out to see Lion King in the theater (which Sam loved; she did not, however, love the "Muppets" preview that came on first -- where a door suddenly opens and knocks poor Kermit over. She yelled "NO!" and burst into tears, reached for me, got in my lap, and held on for dear life, just crying! Guess we know what movie NOT to go see), then went out for pizza at "Sammy's Pizza" which just opened here and serves gluten-free pizza!

Her first present was from her grandparents (they all went in together) -- this great little table and chairs from Jonti-Craft. I did a lot of research to find a perfect little set for Sammie B. Her chair has arms on it and a little seat belt, and is just perfect. She's already requesting to play at her "New Table!" all the time, and we know it is going to get tons of use.

The biggest hit was a strawberry shortcake beach towel from Nana and Papa. She literally freaked over it. It is so funny . . . you never really know what present a kid will go absolutely wild over!

Lots of great gifts from our family! Strawberry shortcake PJs from her uncle A and Aunt C, a great little cupcake making kit and a monkey balance board from Gigi and PawPaw, and a strawberry shortcake swimsuit from her Aunt S and Uncle D and cousins. She was a happy little lady with all the strawberry shortcake stuff.

Then, we brought out the BIG surprise from me and B. A new little electric car!

We knew she'd LOVE the car itself, and sitting in it, but weren't sure what she'd think of the power aspect. I kind of thought she'd be scared, but she wasn't. She loved it. She would put her foot on the gas pedal though and I think get a little surprised each time it lurched forward and that made her jerk her foot off, so her first ride was a whole lot of stop and go. But, today, B took her out for a second romp in her new ride, and she was all over the place in our courtyard! I was inside and could hear her yelling "stop!" and "go!" and laughing. She also crashed into a few things, just said, "Oh my God!" and then waited for B to get her back on the road . . . when they came in, she was still laughing and B asked her what she ran into and she said, "Table! Chair! Oh my God!" So, the car is a hit. Money well spent on a very deserving little lady!

After presents, we headed out for the movie and pizza, and of course, I brought along a gluten-free cupcake for the Bee:

And, then we went home and all crashed (well, Sammie B did . . . the rest of us readied for the next day's party).

We had her big birthday party with friends and family at the little pool where Sammie B does swimming lessons. She is SO very, very happy in the water, so it was a PERFECT place and a perfect little party! Here are a few pictures from that day:

(Note her special strawberry shortcake dress, made just for Sammie B by Magnolias Boutique!).

(And, her strawberry shortcake swimsuit for the occasion!)

Sammie B had a wonderful time at her party. And, I think B and I had just as much fun just watching HER have fun. She was exhausted after the party, fell asleep in the car, and actually stayed asleep as B carried her in, took her up to her room, put her in bed, and took her shoes off . . . which never happens! After her snooze, we opened the presents from the party, had dinner, and all fell asleep with huge smiles after a great weekend!

It was one of the best weekends I've ever had, and one I was so fearful I'd miss because of bed rest, but the Thursday before, I had a check-up with the high-risk OB and I asked what she thought about the party/weekend. She said, "go, do, but SIT as much as possible and NO lifting." So, that's what I did. It was hard for me to NOT be able to lift Sammie B and to feel a tad "side-lined," but I was just so, so glad to be there. Celebrating Sammie B! Fabulous celebration of our fabulous girl!

(And now, that ends the birthday posts for this year!).

Dada's Annual Guest Post!

2011-09-29T21:31:00.000-07:00

Keeping with tradition (started last year), B has written his own birthday letter to Samantha. And, if this one doesn't make you cry, you are tougher than me . . . His love for his girl -- his complete and total awe of her shines through.

Samantha,

This past weekend, your mother and I along with your nanny, Nana, Papa and Gigi all celebrated your third birthday with you. What a weekend!! There was a bitter-sweet graduation party at your school on Friday, a fun movie and pizza day on Saturday, and then a swimming party with friends and (more) family on Sunday. I think I can safely speak for everyone when I say that we were exhausted by the end! In a good way, to be sure, but still exhausted. Throughout the weekend there were lots of smiles, presents, hugs and kisses and a very noticeable absence of naps for you! It was great fun and touched my heart that you have such wonderful people around you that all came together to celebrate you. Sweet. Wonderful. Magical. You. (I'm stealing this style of punctuated writing from your mother.)

This last thought--that there were lots of wonderful people around you celebrating you--is the theme for this year's birthday letter. Here goes.

Your life will take you places I can only dream. You will visit places I have only read about in books. You will do things I was too scared to do. You will overcome obstacles that I have never had to face myself. While I cannot begin to put names to the places you will visit or adventures you will have, I can be sure of this --people will come into and out of your life along the way. You will meet interesting people in cafes, share fleeting glances with mysterious strangers walking down the street, enjoy colleagues at work and school, have friends and best friends (and ex-best friends; I'm told girls go through best friends quick as "noodles through a goose." Look it up, I had to.). Just remember that no matter where you go and what you accomplish, these are not as important as the people around you. Cherish them. Listen to them. Learn from them. And make sure you have the right ones around you.

Your mother and I have worked very hard to ensure that the right people are around you now. People who get you (get your essence, as your mom likes to say). People who see all of the amazing things you do every day like tell knock knock jokes, or yell at Dude for taking your Winnie the Pooh bear or Dora doll, or ask for ice cream for breakfast, lunch, afternoon snack, dinner, and dessert. People who see no limits to what you can achieve. People who you can ask for help, and who won't think twice about giving it. Again and again. People who recognize that we all need help at one time or another.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that people and the relationships you have are really what matter. And just so you don't think that your dear old Dad is perfect (far, far from it, actually), I don't always practice what I preach. I can be better about appreciating the people in my life, too.

When I was a little younger and had a slighter lower hairline, my dad (your papa) shared with me a poem written by American poet Max Ehrmann, called Desiderata (or, "desired things"), that resonated with me. I saved it, and share it with people at every opportunity. I won't quote the entire passage here, but the following verse speaks to what I'm trying to say to you in this letter: "As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story [....] You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should."

Be sure to speak your truth quietly and clearly but don't be afraid to speak up when necessary. You are an amazing little girl. You are sweet and gentle. Funny and mischievous at times. Sensitive. Hard-working. A beautiful soul. Be true to yourself. Always.

At the very core of my being I am enjoying every single second of watching you grow. I consider myself blessed to be a part of your story.

I love you lots and all over the place.

- Dada

Graduated

2011-09-28T20:56:00.000-07:00

Remember Sammie B's first day of "school?"

Here she was, all dressed and ready to go for Day 1, back in November (and thinking "why in the world did my mama wake me up so early?"):

It has been 10 months, and she's just thrived there. Friday, she graduated, and we were so, so, so sad. But, also feeling so very blessed to have had such a wonderful program for her, with such amazing, loving people that cared so deeply for her. And the benefits - to her - have been huge.

Graduation was a fun, but bittersweet day. We woke up early (to have time for pictures) and our whole crew (Sammie B, B, me, + 3 of the 4 grandparents) headed out the door to school.

She donned a party dress and a huge smile for the occasion:

While the kiddos were outside, we set up the room for a graduation party (Winnie-the-Pooh themed with brownies, both Sammie B's request). After singing "Happy Birthday" and enjoying brownies, they played a slide show of pictures of Sammie B over her time there . . . complete with really sappy music in the background (sob much?!) and then we did closing circle, just as we've done at the end of school three days a week for the last ten months. Only this time, singing "This is the way we say bye-bye," had a deeper meaning, and brought lots of tears.

We've been talking to Sammie B about how now that she's three, she'll go to a new school with other three-year-olds and we explained what the graduation party meant, but I wonder if she's missing her teachers? She had just fallen so in love with all of them, and looked forward to school so much . . . and my hope is she will feel the same about her new school and her new teachers. These last ten months have just flown by.

As one chapter closes, others will open, I know. But its always heartwrenching to have such a wonderful chapter close . . .

Dear Birthday Girl!

2011-09-27T23:01:00.000-07:00

Time for my annual birthday letter! (The birthday posts are likely to continue for a few days . . . ).

Dear Sweet Sammie B -

You, my girl, are three!

Over the weekend, we spent three days celebrating YOU. With a graduation party on Friday, gifts, a birthday movie (Lion King in the theater) and dinner on Saturday and a swimming birthday party on Sunday . . . we spent the entire weekend focused on YOU and your fabulousness. Some might say that we went overboard, but I say . . . you deserved it. It is so very true - I can't think of any little person more deserving of such an extended celebration, or any one (or thing) I'd rather celebrate.

With your third birthday comes a lot of change for you, and for us. You are no longer going to be in the birth to three EI program for your therapy services, and you graduated from your little school program you've attended for the last year (where you've absolutely flourished!). Your dada and I have worked hard over the last months to make this transition more smooth - we managed to switch many of your therapists to ones covered by insurance so that you'd have some continuity, but still, we know, it is a lot of change for a little girl. But, I have no doubt, that you will handle the transition as you do every thing else in life - with grace and perseverance not found in many children your age. In your three years, you have taught us so, so much. You have made us better people, and each day, you motivate me to strive to be an even better parent than I was the day before. You deserve no less, my girl. You have shown us more love than I ever knew possible. Literally heart-so-full-it-feels-like-it-might-burst kind of love.

As one chapter closes (and mama feels anxious about change, as I always do!), I keep reminding myself to just trust that new chapters will open. New, fabulous chapters. Your new teacher will, no doubt, fall just as in love with you as your old teacher did, and well, things will just fall into place as they are meant to be. My prayer for this new chapter - for you - is that the right people walk into your life. The people that are meant to be in your life - to enable and empower you right along side your dada and me.

"Two" proved to be an amazing year for you my girl. Your vocabulary and personality both just exploded. You make us laugh every day. Many who meet you (including your developmental pediatrician, and she's an expert!) comment on your charming sense of humor and your wise-beyond-your-years sense of self. So true. You tease us, you tell "jokes," you light up our every day in a way that words just cannot express.

Your dada is trying to teach you to tell "knock knock" jokes. So far, you've got:

Sammie B: Knock knock Who's there?
Dada: Who's there?
Sammie B: Mama
Dada: Mama who?
Sammie B: YO MAMA!!! (with squeals of delight).

See? You are funny!

We also know that you are starting to recognize your challenges. That some things are just hard for you. We wish we could make everything in life easier for you. I never want you to doubt yourself. And, my sweet girl, I want you to know that your dada and I are committed to making sure that your challenges will never define you. No label will ever define you. Your magic, love, giggle, sense of humor and amazing little personality will define you. And, I promise you this: your dada and I will always be beside you, and together, we will take on whatever life throws our way or your way. We are, after all, "Team Sammie B."

I know that "three" is going to be a big year for you too . . . you are starting a new school, our family of three will soon be a family of four -- you are going to become a big sister! And, I have no doubt, you will be an amazing one.

My sweet girl, I have to tell you, you may be "three" but you are still MY baby. I still love nothing more than snuggling up with you for a long weekend nap and having you asleep on my shoulder. I still tip toe in your room at night just to see you sleeping, snuggling with whatever baby doll and stuffed animals you've chosen that night (usually at least three, tonight you chose to have three different Minnie Mouses!). I stand there, and I watch you sleeping, and I whisper, "you are perfection." You are my girl. You are perfection.

I cannot believe it has been three years since we welcomed you to our world.

Three amazing, wonderful, magical years full of love and joy and happiness.

I look forward to the coming days . . . as these new chapters open in your life. As I've said before, my girl, this is your story. You get to write it. Dada and I are just lucky to be along for the ride. I am so, so lucky to be your mama.

Happy 3rd Birthday, my girl!

I love you with every ounce of my being.

- Mama

Three Fabulous Years

2011-09-25T22:06:00.000-07:00

The past three days have been spent celebrating our fabulous girl. It has been, in a word, FABULOUS. More on our fabulous three days to come!

Two months old:

One year old:

Two years old:

Three years old:

My baby girl (though not such a baby these days), you melt me. Happy birthday sweet Sammie B!

A Day (or Two) In the Life of Sammie B

2011-09-20T21:55:00.001-07:00

In spite of the stress of this week and the list of things B and I have to think about after touring pre-schools today and for gearing up for Thursday's IEP, this week has brought tons of giggles. Once again, our girl is reminding us of what really matters -- the giggles, the love, the moments of magic -- in a week filled with other stuff. And, now, I share with you a few of those magical moments (THESE moments are why I adore having a camera phone nearby at all times . . . ).

A REALLY big proud smile after "climbing" up dada's chest.

Snuggling on the couch with mama while talking about (and patting) Baby Mia:

Reading (these are the moments that just melt me - I walked out of my room to get her jammies and came back and she was "reading" one of her books to herself - obviously from memory, and when she noticed me taking a picture, she smiled this adorable smile!)

Sporting new Strawberry sunglasses in anticipation of her upcoming Strawberry Shortcake birthday party:

Here's a sign that your kiddo has spent A LOT of time in physical therapy. I've probably mentioned before that her favorite thing to do with her dolls is help them "walk" (just like we help her). Well, tonight, we caught her doing some exercise ball/core strengthening work with her baby. Pretty stinking cute. Creative little lady.

And, tonight, Sammie B was rolling/scooting around in the floor. Her new PT has been very adamant that we encourage ANY kind of movement and just let her explore. So, when she made her way to the dog's water bowl, rather than running to get her and moving it away, we just watched (except when she tried to drink it - we told her "no."). she dumped the whole thing out, and then, I kid you not, was trying to swim in the floor in the water . . . she was a mess, floor was a mess, but she was giggling and loving it, and so were B and I.

Bringing dada in for a big smooch before bedtime:

Mama's genius idea to motivate Sammie B to hold different positions for longer periods (strength-building!) -- being different animals! Here's Sammie B and dada being kitty cats:

She brings so so much joy and love to our every day.

[And, in case you were waiting for a Cervix Watch 2011 update, I saw my high-risk OB today and while I'm still having mild contractions, all looks pretty good. I'm just supposed to keep doing what I've been doing - sitting/lying as much as I can, lifting as little as possible, etc. I don't need to go back to the high-risk OB again unless something goes wrong or I just want to . . . I will hit 34 weeks on Friday and after that, even if I went into labor, they wouldn't stop it. Truthfully the 34 - 37 week period is going to be tough for me . . . up until this point, I've felt like if I DID start real, active labor, these doctors I trust so much would somehow stop it (or try). . . knowing that if I went into labor now, this baby would be coming is different territory. I just want to get to full-term. So very badly. 3 weeks, 3 days to go].

The Week Ahead

2011-09-18T23:11:00.001-07:00

B is back, and all feels a little more right in our world.

The next few days will bring a few things that we have not been looking forward to . . . including Sam's first IEP and her graduation from her amazing little school she's been at the last year.

Tuesday, B and I tour preschool programs that we *think* are likely candidates for what the school district will offer for Sammie B. I already toured these programs at the end of last year, but since the district made some changes over the summer, we are going back to see them in action again now that we've also looked at a few private programs and have more to compare them to. Tuesday afternoon, I'll see my high-risk OB for my now weekly appointment.

Wednesday, I'll spend the day preparing (from bed!) for Sammie B's IEP meeting on Thursday -- pulling all the evaluations and assessments, therapists' reports, her teacher's reports from her current program, drafting the IEP goals B and I would like to see, talking with my special education attorney friend, and just generally getting our ducks in a row. (Can you say, "bring it on school district? This mama will be prepared!").

And, then . . . Thursday is the IEP meeting. I *feel* like we have a great IEP team, and I'm cautiously optimistic, but at the same time, lately we've heard so many absolute horror stories from other kiddos transitioning out of Sam's little center-based EI program (her school, as we call it) to the school district, so I'm scared we'll walk in "cautiously optimistic" and get blind-sighted. Part of the stress of this journey is constantly worrying that *this* will be the meeting or evaluation or report or doctor's appointment or whatever that will knock me over. (Good lessons that I'm not in control, perhaps?) Plus, no one wants to sit in a room for hours and discuss your child's areas of weakness and struggle. Seriously, can't we all just recognize that she's awesome and magic and wonderful and deserves the world and move on from there?

I *hate* that the stress and worry and anxiety of the IEP has to happen the WEEK of her birthday. A week that should just be about celebrating my girl. But, B and I decided today that we fight like hell (if needed) during the IEP meeting, and then . . . we walk out, and we forget about it for a few days. And, in those days, we focus on the most important thing in all of this . . . our girl. And, in celebrating three magical years of her. Three wonderful, magical, amazing years in which we've learned so much and felt more love than we ever knew possible. The IEP reports and the goals and the school district's "offer" will still be around next Monday, but the weekend will be about celebrating our girl. Our family.

Friday, Sammie B graduates from her EI center-based program, and B and I both know we will likely SOB at the graduation. The people at that program have been ah-maz-ing. Plain and simple. Her teachers have clearly fallen head over heels in love with her (hard not to) and made every effort to "get" her . . . and have never, ever underestimated her, but have believed in and fostered and encouraged her potential in incredible ways. I mentioned to B tonight how much I HATE leaving that program and I couldn't even talk without crying. At the end of her last school day there, we'll have a little graduation party with her classmates and teachers (Winnie-the-Pooh themed, Sam's pick!) with ice cream and a little slideshow of pictures they've taken of Sam during her time there. Sure to be a tearjerker.

Saturday is Sammie B's actual birthday, and we'll spend the day celebrating and well, just loving on her and enjoying our girl. We have a few VERY fun presents planned for the day, and plan to spend it as a family (with grandparents who will also be in town).

Sunday is her birthday party - Strawberry Shortcake themed (her pick and ironically, the same theme I had for my own third birthday party) - at the little swim school where she takes lessons on Saturdays. Sammie B is truly, truly, truly "in her element" in the water . . . where her body is weightless, and she can move, move, move. We couldn't imagine a better place to have her party.

And then, after a weekend of magic and celebration, Monday we can go back to the IEP, planning, services, etc. (blech) . . . but not over the weekend. Her weekend. That's going to be about CELEBRATING her, CELEBRATING the little girl that made us "mama" and "dada" and celebrating three amazing years of her in our lives.

Even though the coming days bring anxiety, I know we'll get through them. Despite the bumps along the way (including those I share here), this little family is resilient.

* Photo taken by my sweet friend, H, over at Capturing Motherhood. P.S. She also happens to be the mama to little L, Sammie B's classmate and friend.

Big Sister-in-Waiting

2011-09-15T20:34:00.000-07:00

Several weeks ago, I took Sammie B to a "Big Sibling" class at a local hospital. A friend suggested it because her own little girl had LOVED a similar class when her little brother was on his way, so I looked around and found one offered at a hospital not too far from us and signed Miss Sammie B up. The class was for ages 3+, so I wasn't sure how much she'd get out of it, knew she'd be the youngest, etc., and called ahead and asked if she could attend even though she wasn't quite three if I stayed with her, and they said "YES!"

So, Sammie B sported her "Big Sister" shirt and off we went.

When we got there, the instructor asked all the kids to come sit on the floor in a circle. I went and sat next to Sammie B, and just marveled at her as she sat there, so attentive, listening to EVERY word. (And answering questions when asked, which surprised me because our girl is usually oh-so-shy in groups and with new people!)

First we passed a baby doll around and learned how to hold a newborn close to our bodies, which Sammie did very well! Then, we took a quick tour of the hospital and then . . . THE VIDEO.

I was a little startled when it started out by discussing HOW babies are MADE, and I breathed a sigh of relief that my kiddo was too young to understand any of it, and that I WOULDN'T be answering THOSE questions on the way home like some of the moms of the older kids likely would be . . .

Sammie watched the movie attentively, then she got to pick out a new hat for her sister, then she got her little graduation certificate, and home we went. One of the suggestions in the parent handouts from the class was to look at pictures from when our bigger kids were born and talk about it. So, I got out Sammie B's baby album and we started talking. I showed her the pictures of me in the hospital, just starting labor, and I said "that's when I went to the hospital because you were ready to be ______" and she filled in "born." (I was thinking, "WOW, she was really paying attention in the movie!").

Then . . . the kicker. I showed her the first picture of HER and we talked about how that was baby Sammie B, and I said, "that's right after you came out of mama's ______" (FULLY EXPECTING HER TO SAY "BELLY" because that's what I've always said before) and she said:

BAH-NYE-NAH.

I looked at B and almost fell over. I said, "I didn't tell her that." I hadn't. . . I've always just said that after Sammie's birthday, when the baby is ready, she'll come out of my "belly." BUT, the video had gone into the full deal, though quickly. My girl doesn't miss a thing, does she? That story had me smiling for days. Still does. Bah-nye-nah!

Sammie B is going to be an amazing big sister. We talk about the baby a lot. We talk about how Sammie B is going to teach her things and she lists the things she'll teach her (so far, we have eating, playing and dancing, which sounds good to me!). We talk about how lucky the baby will be to have Sammie B as her big sister, and Sammie B touches my tummy and talks to her sister and kisses her sister. Whenever I change clothes, she looks at my belly and says "baby!" And then she usually touches her own belly and says, "me baby!" I ask her if she has a baby in her belly, and she always says "Yeah!". We go to the store and Sammie helps me pick things out for her sister. When she sees baby stuff in the store, she says "Baby Mia!" She is, by all accounts, stoked about being a big sister.

Occasionally, I'll feel the baby kick and say to B, "want to feel the baby?" and if Sammie B overhears, she yells "me!" and reaches out to feel. The sweetest.

For all my fears and anxieties about what parenting two little beans will mean (and how we will continue to balance our crazy lives), I KNOW Sammie B is going to be an amazing sister. I'm not too naive to think we won't have an adjustment period . . . or that once "Baby Mia" is a reality (and not just an abstract thing in mama's belly) that we won't have some jealously and confusion. But I know, without a doubt, that my big girl is going to be an amazing big sister. She's going to teach Baby Mia so, so, so much. Not just eating, playing and dancing, but big, important life lessons about love, determination, hard work, empathy, and much, much more.

Sisters.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2011-09-14T06:46:00.000-07:00

After I posted last night, I got the sweetest messages from friends. The sweetest.

What would I do without my girlfriends? Who comfort in a way only they can. Who've carried babies, some pre-term, some through bed rest and not-easy pregnancies, and who just know the weight of it all?

I wish for my Sammie B to know friendships like I have as she grows older. And, I'm pretty sure she's on her way. Check out this little pair. (Or maybe this is the start to falling in love? Who knows?) This whole series of pictures just makes my heart happy. They were so stinking cute sitting there, we couldn't help but snap away (with several cameras -- so you can see they aren't quite sure which one to look at!).

To my friends, and my girl's. Cheers.

CERVIX WATCH 2011

2011-09-13T20:57:00.000-07:00

So, I've officially been told by my doctor to slow.it.down. It has been a fairly crappy few days. B is out of town at a conference. This is, for his field, the BIG annual conference, and he was speaking. So, he went. The week leading up to the conference he worked extra hard, extra late, and extra often (including going in on his day off), our nanny has also been out of town a lot this month (including during the days leading up to B's conference and part of while he was gone), so I've been pushed to the "modified bed rest" limit.

I cannot do it all. I am not superwoman. Especially not now. But lately, B has been preoccupied with work and this conference and as a result, a bit absent (and recognizing my own character flaws, I am not one who easily asks for help or admits when I can't keep going at the rate I'm going) so I have been TRYING to do it all. Not because I wasn't listening to my doctor, but out of necessity. And not without guilt and worry and wonder about the "what-ifs." Because I know the "what-ifs" all too well. I've had a pre-term baby before, and I know, we just don't get "do-overs" when it comes to pregnancies.

So, after a few straight days (Wed - Sun) of living solo with Sammie B while our nanny was gone and B was preparing and then gone for his conference, on Sunday morning, I woke up with a stomach ache. And it hurt. All day. Just a dull ache. I figured it couldn't be contractions because it was kind of a constant pain, not a coming and going kind of thing . . . so I didn't worry too much. But around 5 pm, I decided I'd better call my doctor and just ask if she was worried. She was. A little. She wanted me to go to L&D and just be monitored. So, I scrambled to find someone to watch Sammie B and off I went. I didn't call my mom, I didn't call anyone. (Other than telling B, of course!). I really really thought they'd monitor me for an hour or so, tell me all was good and send me home.

Except, I was having contractions (unbeknownst to me, but the monitor picked them up). So, they monitored me for about 5 hours (Sammie B went to spend the night with her nanny, who had just gotten back into town . . . thank goodness!). I laid in L&D alone for 5 hours, texting/calling B with updates, and hurting (emotionally, not physically). I could have called friends, but truthfully, if B couldn't be there, I just wanted to be alone with my feelings. And, being there brought back a lot of emotions about the trauma of Sam's birth and her subsequent NICU stay that I really thought I'd healed from. Obviously not. It was, a rough night.

Eventually, the contractions stopped (they were never frequent or strong, but my doctors, knowing my history, and Sam's, are thankfully, super cautious with me), and I was sent home. It was so hard walking back into my empty house, alone with my worry and fears. And thinking, "shit, is my body failing me again?" And, in all honestly, it made me feel so very alone in this pregnancy. When we've had the scares along the way, like when I got put on modified bed rest at 21 weeks, B has been quick to comfort, and has always said, "we'll get through this," and the thing is . . . I know we will . . . but sometimes it feels like there's so little "we" to pregnancy.

I followed up with my high-risk OB Monday. Cervix is still long (good!) but funneling (not as good, though also not tooo alarming at this point in pregnancy, but still, something to watch). She was less-than-thrilled to hear that my husband was far away and gave me strong warnings to "slow it down." And, I am. But as the support from friends poured in on facebook with messages like, "listen to your doctor!," I couldn't help but be MORE hurt. I HAVE listened to my doctor. TRUST me, I know the consequences of early labor. As I laid in L&D Sunday night thinking about the possibility of going through the NICU roller coaster again, I felt my heart shatter. It just seems like there's a whole lot of unnecessary blame in the "listen to your doctor" statements. I AM listening. And worrying. And doing everything in my power to keep this babe baking . . .

So, that's that. Rough week. B will get back on Thursday. And we will get through this.

I'm four weeks and 3 days from full-term, and hanging in and hanging on. And hoping to get some "we" back into it all.

Perspective and the Other Mothers

2011-09-07T22:27:00.001-07:00

As I sat at Children's Hospital with Sam today and had a little picnic with her before her PT session, I looked at her sitting, in big girl chair at a big girl table, and I felt so proud. She looked like such a little girl. Not a baby, but a little girl. I stared at my big girl in awe and had to stop to snap a few pictures.

As we sat there longer, I found myself focusing less on how awesome it was to sit next to my big girl at a little table, and more on the fact that sitting there, she was wobbly, and my heart went from happy to hurting in an instant. I thought about how hard it must be for her to focus her eyes and pick up food when her body is wobbling. As I've said before, it is not that I want more from Sammie B, I want more FOR her - an easiness that she hasn't yet known. And as I sat there, watching her eat, I was just struck with how something so mundane as picking up her food is made more challenging because her little muscles don't always do what her brain wants them to do. Because balancing in a chair takes work for her. And my heart just hurt. Plain and simple.

And, then we went on to her PT session . . . and I looked around the room. PTs working with a (probably, I'm guessing) 12-year-oldish girl on sitting independently. Another similar-aged girl, non-verbal, with a shaved head and huge scar, probably from a recent brain-surgery. And suddenly, I was hit with it . . . perspective. A reminder about all of Sammie B's "cans" . . . Not that this was the first time I was hit with it . . . it happens often. There's always that "it could be worse" sentiment or the "at least she can do x," or whatever, and don't get me wrong, I am grateful for every single one of Sammie B's cans. EVERY one. For EVERY word that comes out of her mouth, every giggle, every smile, every joke, every song. All of them. We have so many friends on this journey who haven't yet heard their little one's voices, so I am always mindful that Sammie B's voice and every single one of her "cans" is not to be taken for granted. But sometimes, like today, I also just have to give myself permission to let my heart hurt that other things don't come easily to her. That she has to work so hard to sit in a chair and have a little lunch. To sit and notice her wobbling and have my heart just ache because I can't make it easier for her. And I want to . . . so so badly.

Our now twice-weekly trips to a Children's Hospital are sure to keep bringing the lessons in perspective. As I sit there, I'm fully aware, looking around . . . that none of us want to be there. We all wish our children didn't have a reason to make trips to that place. We're all, truthfully, a little jealous of other friends who've never had to step foot in a Children's Hospital, or never had to seek out specialists and therapists. And today, I have to give myself permission to just admit that I wish my Sammie B didn't have to be there. That instead of spending our Wednesday at a therapy appointment, we'd been at the park or the zoo or the pool, or just sitting at home. Of course, I wouldn't trade my Sammie B for a million afternoons at the zoo (or anything else) but I would give a limb or an organ to make things easier for her. Still though . . .

I'm grateful we are there at this amazing Children's Hospital to get help. To meet with a fabulous therapist who does everything she can to make therapy fun, and then we go home. We are there to work toward progress. And to make more of Sammie B's "can'ts" into "cans" that we can celebrate. Perspective.

The challenge in all this is to not let the moments of that "I wish I could change this for her" and the achy heart that goes along with that get in the way of enjoying the moment. Stop me from enjoying my little picnic with my girl. Because she is oh-so-enjoyable.

There's something about this journey, and the other mothers. It doesn't matter how different our children's journeys are, somehow we support each other, we all "get it." I've mentioned before that I'm on a support board for moms of children with delays. On the days like these . . . the days I have to just admit "this sucks, and I wish I could change it for her," I can go there, post how I feel and have 10 messages within two hours that truly do lift my spirits. I've also now been lucky enough to meet some of those women in person -- a few that live locally, and I've even had meals and drinks with moms in DC and Baltimore :o). And, there are a few others (HOUSTON! NYC! NOR-CAL!) that I'm just determined to hug in person someday. We've shared spios and theratogs and walking wings with kiddos in Michigan, Ohio, Nebraska, and Iowa. I've sat outside assessments and sent texts like, "Just about to walk into the evaluation, and I think I might puke," to these mamas (and got great texts back like "ugh, makes me want to puke to just think about it."). These women get it, and I'm so so lucky to know them.

One of the moms from my board recently posted this on her facebook page. I happened to open the link while sitting at a (long) stoplight, and I had to pull over to read when the light turned green. Tears streamed down my face. Because although the author's daughter's issues are more severe and quite different than Sam's, there's that common thread . . . we wish we weren't sitting in Children's Hospitals. We wish we could make it all easier for our children. We start out feeling lost on this journey, and over time, we thrive. Thrive. I forwarded this on to B (which I rarely do) and he loved it. He sat and read with tears in his eyes, and then he forwarded it on.

I've been BOTH of the mothers in that post. I've been the new, lost mother, not believing that I was seeking out a neurologist to take my 7 month-old to see. And, now, I'm the mom that (I think) is coming out on the other side, and thriving, right along with my little family and our "new normal." Thriving doesn't mean that there won't be moments of heartache and "this sucks that I can't make this easier for her," but I guess (?) that I own those moments and those feelings, and move on. And, that's just what I tried to do today, though it did take some support from other mothers to get me there. . . and for their support, I'm oh-so-grateful.

I've been the mom offering support to a newby mom on this journey, and I've been the mom getting it. It is a "club" we never thought we'd be a part of, but one full of amazing people.

Recently, I walked into the restroom at a restaurant (ironically after we'd just come from an appointment with the physiatrist where we'd talked about gait trainers and equipment), and happened to walk in behind a young girl (again, guessing but probably 12 or 13) pushing her walker, with her mom walking closely behind. I looked at her, and my heart thought "oh please let my Sammie B learn to use a walker if that's what she needs," and I noticed that the mom had noticed me watching. I didn't want her to think I was staring to be rude, so I said, "my little girl is almost three, and we are struggling so hard to get her walking, seeing her with that walker just gives me such hope and makes my heart feel so happy." And then, the tears came. And they did for the other mom too. She touched my shoulder, and said, "Oh bless you, I understand. It's been a long road, and I remember the day my daughter got her first wheelchair, and I sat in my car and sobbed. But that wasn't the end of the story. She's worked so hard, and now she's using a walker."

Her wheelchair wasn't the end of the story. No piece of equipment is the end of the story. The image of that girl, with her walker, is etched in my mind. I wonder if that mom realizes what she and her daughter did for me that day. What they gave me in those few quick moments in the restroom. Hope. Optimism. Perspective. NOTHING that happens at three-years-old is the "end" of this story. The sky is the limit, and Sammie B has a lifetime ahead of her to turn "can'ts" into "cans" and to reveal to US what her potential truly is. We are just here to enable her to reach it.

I'm so so blessed to have my magical little girl, who enjoys a picnic and who makes me giggle. I'm so so blessed by every single one of her "cans," and for all the limitless possibility ahead.

I'm also so so blessed to be on this journey with such amazing mothers to support me, to teach me, to be my friends, and to give me some healthy perspective on the days I need it most.

Sammie B - I am so grateful for your every "can," and as your mama, I'd give anything to make the "can'ts" come more easily to you. To make your little body cooperate with your brain. Although I can't magically do it, I promise you this . . . mama will be right beside you, cheering you on through life, doing everything I CAN do to enable you. To help YOU accomplish all you are meant to do in this world. I love you my sweet girl. With all that I am. You make me feel so very happy and proud. Every single day.

Right Now

2011-08-31T15:01:00.000-07:00

On Friday, I hit 30 weeks pregnant, with my cervix still "long and strong." We don't know if those earlier not-so-long-and-strong measurements were a fluke or if it just means that what I've been doing since is working, so I keep doing what I've been doing. Trying to lift minimally, working a reduced schedule, and trying to rest as much as I can.

Heather, at the Spohrs are Multiplying posted a great post on what bed rest is REALLY like today. I'm not on strict bed rest like I was with Sam, but still . . . limited activity is not easy. It is not "restful." And like Heather says, if I had a dime for every person that told me that they wish someone would put them on bed rest, or told me all the things they'd "catch up on" on bed rest, I'd be a rich woman (I'd pay them to do bed rest for me!). It is not restful. It is full of worry and fear and doubt and anger that your body can't just easily do what others' bodies seem to do (grow people). Anyway, enough about that. I just liked the post and thought I'd share.

Here's what I'm looking like these days (okay, on the days that I blow dry my hair and put real clothes on -- this would NOT be today, this was actually about 2 weeks ago):

And, just for kicks, here's what I looked like three years ago, 28 weeks pregnant with Sammie B:

It looks to me like the belly is bigger this time, but it is hard to compare belly size with such different shirts (and the fact that I'm obviously sticking it out further in the more recent picture) BUT my weight gain at this point is about the same as last time.

Most of the time I feel good. I feel restless and I wish I could be doing more. I wish I had more energy to get up and down off the floor and play with Sammie B and was able to be out and about at the park, etc. a little more. And, while I would never wish this baby early and want with EVERYTHING in me to carry this girl to term and be at 40 weeks hoping for an induction, I have to say . . . I'm uncomfortable. I think because I was on strict bedrest by this point with my Sammie B pregnancy, I didn't realize how hard these extra pounds make getting around. I'm out of breath after coming up stairs, particularly if I'm carrying Sammie B. I have heart burn non-stop, I can't sleep at night, my feet are swollen, I'm hot, my thighs rub together when I walk (EW!), and well . . . I feel like a fat beast. But, I will happily take every day of this pregnancy, discomfort and all.

I'm simultaneously giddy with excitement about another little girl, and terrified of how we will make it all work -- with another little person in our chaotic lives. I know that our new little wonderful will fold into our lives, but I also know it will be an adjustment. But, it is sort of like I simultaneously want to hit fast forward and pause all at the same time.

Our right now is pretty darn magical and wonderful. Sometimes, when I'm alone with Sammie B, I think about how perfect it is -- our mommy and daughter moments -- and I worry about adding another little being to our mix. I worry about going from a family of 3 to one of 4 and taking something away from Sammie B. But just as I'm scared, I'm excited for Sammie B to have a sister. I'm excited to be "mama" to another, and to watch two girls grow and learn together.

To my sweet Sammie B - sometimes I feel a little sad thinking about this "family of three" chapter in our lives coming to a close. You've brought more magic and wonder and love to us than I ever thought possible (and I know you'll teach your younger sister those same amazing things). And, of course, I never, ever, ever want you to feel like you are missing out because you may have to share mama with your sister. I hope if grown-up Sammie B reads this someday, you'll laugh and look at me and tell me I'm crazy -- that YOUR life wouldn't have been complete without your sister, and neither would our family. That you learned from her, she learned from you, and that she's your best friend. Sisters.

Finally, to close on a lighter note, as I said we would, we got out our heavy duty backpack carrier for the first time this weekend and Sammie B got to be in B's backpack. She LOVED it. He took her to the zoo in it and she loved her view from up there, and B loved being Sammie B's legs :o) That carrier holds kids up to 50 lbs, so Sammie B, as long as Dada keeps working out, he can be your legs for awhile, my girl.

And her (priceless) impression of the prairie dogs they encountered at the zoo:

She makes us giggle.

Listen. And Melt.

2011-08-30T10:46:00.000-07:00

Okay, my last attempt to post this here was a big fat fail (link worked for me, but not for anyone else). Thanks to a much more tech-savvy friend, I'm giving it another go!

Here you have it. Sammie B's fabulous rendition of "Tomorrow" from Annie. You can tell our applause emboldens her when you hear the excitement in her second run-through.

This little girl is pure awesome.

And, if are my facebook friend, you've probably already heard this (I posted there too) but seriously, it is cute enough for a second or third or fourth or fifth listen. For real.

Enjoy:

And, if that little player didn't work for you, just click on this link!

Glimpses of HER Magic

2011-08-26T14:30:00.000-07:00

If you made it through my last post, thank you! And your reward . . . some cute new pictures of the one and only Sammie B unloaded fresh from my blackberry :o)

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then this picture post is ALMOST the word equivalent of that last post I think!

These smiles? These are the moments that matter. The moments that define my girl, and our family. I'm so lucky to be her mama.

The many faces of . . .

Whenever she sees a camera, she flashes a big, cheesy grin (I'm not always fast enough to catch it though, and she doesn't quite get the whole "shutter speed" concept yet) UNLESS I tell her it is a picture for dada. Then, you get funny faces. She loves to make funny faces for her dada. (The three above were from a day when he was working late and we took a few over dinner to send to him.).

Because her dada is a sucker and can't go to the mall without letting her choose a new "Ah-nee-mal" from the Disney Store:

Perfection: (Weekend naps are always in mama's bed!)

Teamwork. Pushing her bear (and bee, who is squashed UNDER the bear) in her stroller with a little help from her dada:

An outfit of her choosing. This girl is pure sass.

A rare occasion where mama has her contacts in, hair blow-dried, and make-up on. Photo-worthy indeed:

Waiting patiently for her swim lesson:

A little at-home PT in the evening:

Riding her trike in PT all.by.herself (via some groovy hand pedals)!

And more funny faces from sweet Sammie B

A few other recent Sammie B magic moments that I'm so, so grateful for:

- The other night, she was sitting on my bed and suddenly started singing oh-so-quietly, I listend for a second and realized Sammie B was singing her ABCs. She realized I'd noticed and was listening, and she got embarassed and stopped. After a little bit, she started up again, and I ignored her, and she sang the whole song!!! She's known her ABC's for awhile (she'd fill in the letters if we were singing and stopped at a letter) but this was her first time singing them on her own.
- She's now regulularly saying "Oh my God! What are you doing?" which she learned from her nanny. It's kind of the funniest.
- Her other favorite song is "Tomorrow Tomorrow" from Annie and I have a voice note on my phone of her singing it and I can't get enough of it. Cutest thing ever. I will eventually figure out how to post that here!
- Annie is her movie of choice, every time.
- She's officially addicted to ice cream. She requests "ice keem" every.time.we.leave.the.house or drive by any establishment where she's ever had ice cream. ever. She's her father's daughter, that's for sure.
-This next one is a little embarassing, but too stinking funny and cute not to share. The other night, B was watching TV while Sammie B and I played in the floor. She looked over at the TV and said "Obama." I looked over and it was just an e-harmony commercial with an African American guy on it. B was like, "um, did she just say Obama?" Um, yeah . . .

She's magic. For sure.

It's Going to Be a Long One

2011-08-24T23:26:00.001-07:00

I've had a draft post sitting in my drafts folder since August 3, and as we've had new appointments and developments, I've just added bullet points to it so I'd remember to update. I've been exhausted and haven't had the time or energy or drive (or something) to finish it, and truthfully, I'm too tired to now, but it just needs to be done. Because it is getting in the way of me blogging about the magical little moments of our days, and that's the stuff that matters. Not the heavy stuff. Not all the damn appointments. But every time I think of something to post about, my first thought is, "Gah! I need to finish that draft." So, all day today, I told myself, "tonight is the night! it will get finished." Tired as I am, here goes.

As I've mentioned, August has been an exhausting (have I said I'm tired?) month. B's boss was out for three weeks and left B in charge, and so he worked a ton, which isn't the norm. Our nanny got a free (yes, free!) trip to Hawaii and we couldn't dare tell her to pass that one up, so she was gone for several days. I've had my weekly progesterone shots, high-risk OB appointments, and regular OB appointments (all going well - still "long and strong" in the cervix department, still on light activity/modified bed rest, same old same old); I'm "on" a case going to trial, so I've had a lot of work to do, but have tried to keep to the bed rest rules (while simultaneously feeling crappy about not being able to be a full member of the trial team, and slightly jealous of those who are -- which is a good sign -- that I MISS being engaged and invested in my career at that level), and Sammie B has just had a TON of appointments, a TON of evaluations (okay, 2 but it felt like a ton), AND we switched physical therapists.

Can you say, "exhausted?" What a freaking month!

So, with that background, the updating part is going to have to happen in bullet-points, but please, please stay with me . . . remember, this is a post that's been brewing for weeks. I've got a lot of important stuff to tell you! ;)

- Sammie B had two doctor's appointments at the beginning of the month -- a physiatrist appointment and a developmental pediatrician appointment/developmental assessment.

- Physiatrist appointment went "eh." Nothing negative, I'm just not so sure what he adds to the mix at this point. He's a good person to bounce ideas off of for alternative treatments, to talk about what our PT is working on, to write prescriptions for the equipment we need, but the appointments themselves are sort of "eh." He wants Sam to perform like a monkey, she doesn't want to. She won't show him her best stuff, so he tries to engage her while simultaneously drilling me about what she is or isn't doing. (More on those questions later). But, that's behind us, and we'll follow up in six months. We did walk away with some ideas for some alternative type treatments that we may try -- some supplements to help with muscle tone and some new PT methods -- but of course, none of those are covered by insurance, so we need to do some research before moving ahead with that.

- Developmental pediatrician appointment went phenomenally well. Sam is required to have a full developmental assessment every six months by the developmental pediatrician who is the director of her little center-based school program. Before she started there, we hadn't yet seen a developmental pediatrician, mostly because I didn't think we could possibly need another MD on Team Sammie B - we have so many, but I am so so glad that the program forced us to see one . . . because honestly, this is the first of the MD disciplines that I've felt like is really just there to help us UNDERSTAND Sammie B and enable US to enable HER to be the best Sammie B she can be. Sam did so well with the last developmental pediatrician assessment, but that particular doctor left the program, so I was nervous about seeing a new one. But, it went very well. As I've said over and over, one of my greatest concerns is that because of Sam's physical limitations (which affect ALL her motor skills, including her fine and gross motor skills and her speech/articulation), that people will assume she doesn't "get it," or that she'll be lumped into a category -- particularly as we transition to the public school system -- where she cognitively doesn't belong. So, getting these independent assessments (not from the school district) is important for us, and of course, we want Sammie B to show all that she knows, but it is always a worry that she won't feel comfortable with the evaluator, that she won't be in the mood to perform (she is, after all, only 2), etc.

Anyway, in short, the appointment went phenomenally well. She warmed up even faster than last time, and she blew me away. There were little "tasks" that I saw them pull out of their bag of tricks, and I thought, "oh this is not going to go well - she can't do that!" and guess what . . . she can. Her cognitive scores really reflect what my hunch has been all along -- she's a smart little girl whose body just doesn't always allow her to show everything she knows. I talked a lot with the developmental pediatrician about my fears for Sam's education. The pediatrician feels very strongly that Sam needs to be in a mainstream environment where she will be cognitively (and verbally) challenged and that they (the school) need to bring the physical supports to HER -- not do what's easiest for the school -- to put her in a special education environment where the physical supports are already there . . . because that's not appropriate for her cognitively. That's also been my "vision" all along, so it felt good to hear an expert agree -- after her own assessment.

She also sort of just gave me permission that I desperately needed to NOT worry about a few things. Did you know that stacking blocks is an important "cognitive" milestone for 24 month old kids? Well, it is. And, on most of the developmental assessments done by Sam's OTs, once a kid "misses" a skill in a particular area, the assessment stops. So, because Sam won't stack blocks, she's scored at "23 months" cognitively on those tests for quite a while. Anyway, the developmental pediatrians are much better at adaptiving the developmental assessments to control for motor limitations . . . and so when Sam refuses to stack blocks (she literally says, "No!" and pushes them away or smiles shyly at me and hands them to me and says, "Mama!" for me to stack), the developmental pediatrician tries to get at the same skill from another angle, or moves on. Anyway, Sam refused to stack blocks. I swear to you, in these assessments, when I see those stupid blocks coming out of the bag, I START SWEATING. She handed them to Sam, Sam said "no," and pushed them away, and the developmental pediatrian moved on. Then, she said to me, "I wouldn't worry about the stacking thing." And I said, "oh thank you! I have tried and tried to work on it at home; we've bought every set of blocks out there, and she just doesn't want to do it." The developmental pediatrician said, "well, it is clearly NOT a cognitive thing, it is a motor thing . . . she knows what you want her to do, but she knows herself well enough to know that it is going to be hard for her and she'd rather not." She went on to talk about how Sam has a very "mature" sense of herself . . .and that the block thing is most definitely NOT a cognitive thing.

We talked about playdates . . . she asked if I schedule them for Sam with "typical peers," and I answered truthfully. I've tried. But it is hard. It is hard sometimes to see "typically developing" right in front of my face. From my friend's kids who were born just days or weeks or months before or after Sam. It's hard to see MY child struggle while their children aren't. And, logistically, well, playdates in the park are the norm around here, and that's hard. Usually, the kiddos run off and play together, the moms congregate together and chat, and Sammie B, who can't just run off and play without me, is left sitting and playing with me. So, it's just been easier not to go there . . . but the developmental pediatrician suggested planning playdates that are a little more Sammie B-friendly. Art playdates, movies, play dough, sitting and watching Dora, etc., and I'm really making an effort to do that. (Just a few days after the appointment, we did a beach date with my friend and her little girl and all sat in the sand and played together).

These are long bullet points, I know. The short story is that the appointment went well, and I was so, so glad to feel like someone "gets" my girl. Sam's teacher was there too, and the fabulous thing is that when we talked about all the stuff Sam knows and can do, he wasn't blown away, he knows it. He sees it. He agrees with what the developmental pediatrician said, he has the same visions for Sam's education. And that feels good. Thank God for this little program - for Sam's teacher, for everyone there, and all that it has done for Sammie B (and as I type this, my eyes fill up with tears thinking about her finishing the program in a month when she turns three . . . ).

- We bid farewell to Sam's PT she's been working with since she was 8 months old and started with a new PT at Children's Hospital near us. The initial appointment/assessment (does this child get assessed enough you think?) was a little overwhelming . . . it was evident to us that our PT should have been working on things that she wasn't . . . and also that Sammie B has a little further to go before independent walking than we probably thought. That was hard to hear and hard to think about, but after a few days of thinking about it (and some supportive mamas giving me great advice), I was reminded that working more on the "in between" stuff (like the pre-walking stuff) would just give us more to celebrate on our way to the big one . . . and I so hope that proves to be true.

Each appointment after that initial one has gone so very, very well, and I actually think Sam has surprised her new PT. I don't think she really realized at that initial assessment all that Sam CAN do, and I see her being encouraged and surprised each time. (In fact, when she showed me her list of treatment goals after the initial assessment, there were some that Sam can already do -- so she was pleasantly surprised, and we came up with some new goals!) There's definitely a warming up and getting-to-know-each-other period for Sam and her new therapist, but so far so good. We are excited to have the positive perspective, a huge amazing clinic with so much great equipment, and to be trying out new tools (like gait trainers and walkers) to help Sam be more independent. B and I are both kicking ourselves for not moving on from the old PT sooner, who had NOT been trying new things and had NOT been a "breath of fresh air" in a LONG time, but we are trying to just move forward and not wonder what we "could" have done differently.

The new environment, new ideas, and fresh perspective has also given B and I some much-needed fresh ideas about working with Sam at home. I think we were ALL just burnt out on the old PT routine, but now, we are getting some fun new ways to work on things, and each evening, B and I feel more motivated to try to mix a little "work" in with Sammie B's play. Good for all of us.

- Sammie B is likely going to be acquiring some new equipment, like a gait trainer (which is like a granny-style walker, but with more support for her trunk). While I wish my girl didn't need a gait trainer (I so wish for her an easiness she hasn't yet known), I'm in a place where I see this equipment as a wonderful tool to allow her to explore her world - to give her some independence, and less as a reminder that my girl struggles where other kiddos do not. I'm angry that our old PT was so narrow-minded on the gait trainer thing . . . I feel like she discounted OTHER areas of Sam's development and what these adaptive devices can do for her cognitively and socially (allow her to be up and exploring with her peers) and I'm pissed to learn that her theory (that once you give a low-tone kid supportive devices, it just makes it harder to teach them to do things independently because they've become comfortable with the supports) is not really supported by the most current research, but again, no looking back, only forward. Picking equipment is overwhelming. It's a heavy desicion. At first, it felt like we were giving up on independent walking . . . but that's not so. One piece of equipment - no matter what equipment it is - is not the final word. Just a step along the way. A step in her story. And, a step that will help HER grow and learn and live. It's all about perspective. And I'm looking forward to my little girl blooming with a new - mobile - perspective herself.

We put Sammie B in a gait trainer at her last PT session, and B and I both were lucky enough to be there, and my heart almost lept out of my chest as our girl started taking tiny steps and moving herself toward her dada. To see her moving . . . with no adult assistance . . . just her own motivation and some equipment . . . made my heart melt. There's still a huge learning curve for her to learn how to move it (it is heavy) along with her body, and how to truly navigate in it, but it will certainly be a valuable tool for her. One that we are excited about.

We've also implemented a reward system for PT appointments. PT is by far the therapy that is the hardest for Sam, and the one where she most often doesn't want to cooperate (can we blame her?). So, we've been talking to her a lot about trying even when things are hard, and after each session, she gets to pick a small surprise out of a basket in my car. She loves it. I've also told her that when her PT asks her to do something, she can say "yeah! yeah!" instead of "no!" and she thinks it is funny. So now, when we are met with resistance from our girl in PT, we say "Sam, let's just try okay?" and she says, "yeah! yeah!" and then when we get to our car, she immediately says "surprise!" and waits to pick. And, to our new PT's credit, she is WORLDS better than our old PT at dealing with the resistance. When Sam says "no" or "all done" during a hard activity, the PT just says, "okay we are going to do it one more time and then we'll be all done and you can pick what we do next, okay?" And, it is working. I know what works and what doesn't will change many, many times, but our old PT's defeatist attitude sure as hell wasn't working, so this is refreshing and encouraging and wonderful. And, I think we are all enjoying reasoning with Sammie B . . . her included.

- We had Sam's assessment with the school district too. That one was overwhelming to say the least. Five adults (OT, PT, ST, adaptive PE, psychologist) all with their own agendas, firing questions at me, at B, at Sammie B, asking her to perform, etc. OVERWHELMING. (And, yes, they brought the effin blocks out.). Short story -- Sam did amazing on the cognitive portion again, and well, the physical stuff . . . we know where she is. So, that's what I kept telling myself "nothing they tell me is going to be a surprise." And, it wasn't. The truly wonderful thing is that I know that the psychologist agreed with me that Sam ultimately belongs in a mainstream classroom with supports. I've had multiple conversations with the transition coordinator since the assessment, and we all SEEM to be on the same page. District funds are limited, so figuring out how to make our "vision" for Sam's education a reality will take some working out (and we already know we may have to initiate due process if we want a one-on-one aide for Sam to help with mobility because right now the district will only give those to kids who are a danger to OTHER kids) but all in all . . . I'm cautiously optimistic. As always, I just wanted to feel like our team "got" my girl, and I do. I didn't want her to be underestimated, and I don't think she was.

Funny story about the evaluation (you deserve a laugh if you're still with me). Before we went that morning, I told Sam we'd be meeting some "new friends" that would ask her (and us) a bunch of questions and want to see all the cool things she can do and all that she knows. I told her it might be hard, but that if she tried really hard, even at the hard things, that afterward, we'd go get ice cream. Well, the SECOND the assessment team started packing up their bags at the end (of the TWO HOURS), Sam looked at me and said, "all done. Ice cream." We went straight to get ice cream and skipped lunch altogether. She deserved it. And about halfway through our lunch, a man that had been sitting near us came over to tell me that he'd been watching us, and quote "what a magical little girl" I had. I got tears in my eyes and told him he had no idea what his comment meant to me and that we'd had a very intense morning. He said, "well, she's amazing, and you are doing a fantastic job," and walked away.

Another positive, I think, that came from the school district assessment is that B went, and I think, kind of realized how much he's insulated himself from the "needs" and "services" part of the journey. He's kind of taken for granted that I take care of that stuff . . . but the assessment overwhelmed him a bit. He hasn't been at the others, and I think this helped him realize why I'm such a nervous wreck before them, why I hate them, why I cry and sob and say "I wish she didn't have to do all this . . . " etc. B's story on this journey isn't mine to tell, but I KNOW the assessment shook him a bit. I KNOW he was wowed and amazed by what our girl did during the cognitive testing, and so so proud of her, but I think (and perhaps, truthfully, for the first time) he also really felt what an uphill battle we may have in making sure she gets what she needs to fully access her education. We've had lots of healthy talks and heart to hearts and planning and thinking kinds of talks, and I'm feeling a little more like a team again. So, that is, no doubt, a good thing.

- There's something I need to explain. When I report here that Sam did so well on the cognitive stuff, I feel guilty. Like I'm bragging. The thing is, when I tell people this -- even on my support boards for parents of delayed kiddos -- people often say things like "well, at least she doesn't have a cognitive delay," but here's the thing . . . if she did, so what? Would we love her any less? NO. Would it make her any less magic? NO. I report on it here, and I worry so much about THAT apsect of the evaluations because I'm with her all the time and as her mother I KNOW how very much she knows and understands. She blows B and I away all the time with her memory and what she remembers and what she's picked up on. And so, the reason why I feel so relieved when the evaluators see what we see is that I feel then that they "get" her. That they aren't making incorrect assumptions about her based solely on her physical limitatations. That's it. Like any parent, I don't want my girl to be underestimated.

- Have you noticed a pattern in these bullet-points (besides that they are very, very long)? This kid is assessed too.damn.much. More than any two-year-old should EVER be "assessed." I mean, really, would YOU enjoy sitting in a room with five people asking YOU a ton of questions and asking you to do physical tasks that are just plain hard for you and then talking about your every weakness? Sucks. We have to find ways to keep these types of assessments (even doctor's appointments . . . I thought this when the physiatrist was asking me, "does she like drawing? how does she hold a crayon?", etc.) from turning into conversatons about Sam's "can't" right in front of her. The kid gets it. And we cannot talk about her like she's not there. B and I have both resolved ourselves to avoid that and to make a concerted effort in appointments/assessments for one of us to politely excuse ourselves to go play in the waiting room with Sam whenever that stuff starts happening.

- That brings me to my next point. Something I need our friends and our family to know . . . Please don't assess my child. We have enough experts "evaluating" her. More than anyone could ever want or need! Please don't talk about our girl, or ask questions about how she's doing with walking (or whichever of her "not yets" you are wondering about) as if she's not there. Please don't assume she doesn't "get it," because I promise you, that's one quick way to get written out of my life. I KNOW the questions are often well-meaning. I get that. But tilting your head to the side like a sad puppy dog and asking, "how's Sam doing in her therapies?" in the same way that you'd ask someone whose parent just died how they are doing is just not okay. It is not okay. So, if you want to know about "how Sam is doing," look at her. Look at us. We are okay. Evaluate our lives by the moments that matter -- the smiles, the giggles, the love. We are good. Ask me about what she likes to do. Ask her what her favorite ice cream flavor is or what her favorite TV show is, but don't give me that sad, head-tilted, "how's Sam doing?" shit. Don't do it. And, if you want to hear about the therapies and the doctors appointments and the stuff that keeps me and B up at night sometimes, because you care and you want to support us, then ask us. But not in front of her.

And, that, my friends is a finished draft. And now, I'll be free to get back to the other stuff, the magical moments that define my girl, not the boring.schmoring appointment updates that are just a necessary part or our new normal . . . so stay tuned for more.

Words of Wisdom from Other Mamas that Have Been (and Are) THERE

2011-08-15T09:03:00.000-07:00

Just a quick post to share some things that have kept me going and inspired me lately.

First, Rachel Coleman - of Baby Signing Times (and Signing Times). I love Rachel not only because her videos literally opened up the world of communication to our Sammie B before the words started coming (she had nearly 60 signs at two years old - rockstar little lady!), but because she's a mom to not only one but two SN children, yet has the most positive, encouraging outlook that she shares with the world. I'm also particularly inspired by her sweet daughter Lucy, who is learning to walk at the age of NINE. Never say never, my friends.

Anyway, I just saw this post on Rachel's blog:

http://www.rachelcoleman.com/2011/08/10/baby-wearing-toddler-wearing-eleven-year-old-wearing/

and I LOVED it. B and I have been having some talks lately about how we can make Sammie B's world accessible to her. We haven't given up on her walking (we won't) but at the same time, we don't want her experiences to be limited in anyway by the fact that she's not yet doing so. So, we've made a promise to ourselves, to each other, and most importantly -- to our sweet girl. We have vowed to do everything we can to be sure that her mobility (or immobility) will not limit her life experiences. This little girl is full of limitless possibilities, as is her life. We are sure of it. We will be her legs when she needs us to be (for as long as she needs us to be, or for as long as she'll let us!).

And on a related note, some wisdom from my friend K that I've been repeating to myself over and over and over:

"Our job isn't to get them walking . . . it is to help them achieve their purpose on this planet, whatever it may be." My girl has a purpose, a destiny all her own, that only SHE can reveal. And, I'm (we're) just here to enable her to do so. Along for the ride.

And, oh what a ride you are taking us on, Sammie B. A magical, magical (and intense) little ride.

Better (and Rosier)

2011-08-10T20:43:00.001-07:00

After a Big Talk on Sunday night (complete with tears from me), things are better. I truly don't know if B had really "gotten" how this whole bed rest thing affects my psyche. The pressure of feeling like I could be doing too much and putting our unborn daughter at risk, the pressure of not doing enough for our other daughter . . . . etc. But, truly, truly, it has been a better week. (And, I so, so, so appreciated your comments and encouragement!)

(And for those of you who were wondering, B does not read this blog consistently. If I have a post I want him to read -- and sometimes I do because I've somehow put feelings about Sam or our experience into words I'd like to share with him -- he reads, but otherwise, he doesn't. Some of our family reads regularly, including B's dad, and the fact that they read has sometimes given me pause on a post and I've questioned once or twice whether I made a mistake in sharing the address with everyone, but at the end of the day when I'm debating about posting something or not, I usually decide this is my space, my place to pour it out, and I hit "post." I think B purposely doesn't read because he just sort of respects this as "my space," but I'm careful to try to only tell MY story on here (and Sammie B's) and not his. And, by the way, my post on Sunday wasn't anything that I wouldn't have shared with his dad anyway! He knows his son can be a stubborn jackass from time to time ;o))

I've launched into full on party planning mode for Sammie B's third birthday party and that's helping to distract me from the anxiety that surrounds this birthday and the preschool transition for us. We went to the party store and she picked out party supplies (I let her choose between Strawberry Shortcake, Winnie the Pooh, Minnie Mouse and Dora, and she's picked Strawberry, which is super sweet because my own 3d birthday was Strawberry Shortcake-themed!). We've booked the (heated!) pool where she does her swim lessons, and we are going to have a swimming/cake/ice cream party! Not sure that my fat pregnant butt will fit in my maternity swimsuit by then, but otherwise - party plans are underway -- the guest list has been started, I've been planning the menu, and I've found (but not yet ordered) the most adorable Strawberry Shortcake swimsuit ever for Sammie B to wear on the big day.

We've also had a few marathon naps together, and the snuggles do wonders for my soul.

Some other highlights of the week -- the kind of moments that make me melt:

- On Tuesday, as we were getting ready in the morning, Sam held my phone to her ear and said, "dada," so I asked if she wanted to call him, and she said, "yeah," so we did. He wasn't at his desk, so I said, "we have to leave him a message," and she did. She said, with no prompting, "Hello dada, I love dada," and then handed the phone back to me. Pretty sure he melted on the spot when he listened to it, and I know that he played it for his friend at work!

- We also snuggled up and watched Annie on the couch. My FAVORITE movie as a child. I always feel so guilty when I have totally lazy days with Sam, but with this bed rest business, sometimes, we just have to. She LOVED Annie. Loved it. And, afterward, we went out to get lunch (KFC drive-thru. Oh the shame!) and as I was driving, she started singing in the back, "Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you." Smilestone (most words ever combined together for a song!)

- Her teacher also emailed today to tell me that she sat in the wagon at school (they have this amazing 8-seater wagon) without the adaptive seat support she usually has, and told them she was a "big girl" for doing it. Our big girl.

I still have a post in my drafts folder about our marathon week of appointments last week BUT still just haven't had the energy to finish it. Today was my one day this week in the office, and I have some deadlines Friday, so the rest of this week is going to be work work work (from bed . . . ) (plus a preschool tour tomorrow).

Bed rest stinks. Constantly worrying that I'm doing too much stinks (I'm thankful for the bi-weekly cervix checks for reassurance, next installment this Friday).

Life isn't always easy and rosy. But today -- things feel easier and rosier, and I'll take it.

Not Easy. Not Rosy.

2011-08-08T06:37:00.000-07:00

I can't tell you how many blogs I read that make EVERYTHING look rosy and easy . . . parenting, working, balancing life (e.g. the whole work-life balance), marriage, etc. Frankly, I'm not sure why I keep reading them. I think for the pure annoyance factor. Anyway, I KNOW no one has a life of all roses, and that blogs don't always represent the UPS and DOWNS of life, but some blogs might give you the impression that life is all rosy, all easy, all the time.

For me, I really started this blog to help me work through (and share) our journey through this life with Sammie B. That includes juggling all her therapies, the appointments (the magic and giggles too!) in the midst of a life of two working parents (both of whom happen to be fiercely independent and stubborn as all get-out). I tend to blog when (1) things are great and I want to share Sammie B's lateest magic moment or (2) I'm struggling. So, I think you can generally find a good taste of the UPS and DOWNS here. But sometimes, when I blog during the down times, I worry about coming across as a negative nelly. But here's the deal . . . this is my blog. Truly, it is kind of like my therapy. So, "owning" the hard times, when things are far from easy or rosy and talking about them on here, helps me.

So here goes.

I think I've cried more in the last three days than I have since the day (over a month ago) that I got put on bed rest for this pregnancy.

I'm lonely. I feel like I'm on lock down. B has been working non-stop, and while I truly, truly understand what it is like to have to work late and work weekends and wish you didn't and to feel tons of work pressure, the timing is just craptastic. This is a rare turning of the tables for us - usually, it is me that gets slammed with work, and him that has to pick up the slack at home (though that's never happened when he's supposed to be on doctor-ordered "light duty"). So, I get it. I do. But, I kind of feel like he's treating my "light duty/reduced schedule/modified bed rest" as an accomodation for HIS busy schedule. My doctor did NOT sign papers certifying me for medical leave so that I could be home to accomodate B's need to work late. He signed them so I could rest. Because I need to rest. And, frankly, I'm getting very little of that. Dislike.

A LOT of things in our life are a little overwhelming right now . . . the pregnancy, Sam's transition to preschool, B's work load, my own worries about what this bed rest/medical leave thing is going to mean for my career long-term (hopefully nothing). But, I can't help but feel like because he's working all the time, EVERYTHING is falling on me, and that all he's got to worry about (or all he is worrying about) is work. And, it sucks. As much as I'd like to believe this gestating business (and getting this baby to full-term) is a "team" thing, it isn't feeling that way right now. I'm the one with the uterus after all.

He's still going to work every day. And, I feel like I'm on some weird pseudo-lock down. Where I'm only supposed to work 20 hours a week, but that's not enough time to do a good job on anything that's on my work plate, so I feel like I'm having to choose between feeling like a constant failure at my job or feeling like I'm cheating the "light duty" rules to do better work, and then worrying about the consequences of either . . . I'm doing projects at home, but I miss feeling like part of a "team" at work too.

As I mentioned, we had a crazy week last week with many appointments (updates on those to come) and I did every one of those appointments without B. I tried unloading SOME of the worry about that stuff (and Sam's upcoming IEP) on B, and his reaction was, "she'll get what she needs, from school, from us, from whatever therapies we have to supplement with. She'll get what she needs. I'm not worried." While his "not worried" is generally always comfort to me, this time, truthfully, it infuriated me. Because she'll get what she needs if SOMEONE plans it. It's not going to just happen. NO one is going to hand us the magic schedule of her new therapies or her new schedule. NO one else is going to tour the preschools and try to find the one that fits. And, the school district sure as hell does not have our girl's best interests in mind. They have the bottom line - funding - in mind. So, yeah, she'll get what she needs. If SOMEONE looks into the private therapies, rearranges things, etc. And who is that SOMEONE? ME. So, I feel like while "not worried" is nice and reassuring, and all that jazz, right now, it'd be nice if I wasn't the only one worrying and arranging and scheduling and rearranging and researching and thinking and oh my.

I just feel a tad taken for granted. And lonely.

Sammie B and I had tons of quality time this weekend, which was (of course) fab. And, she's in "mama-mama-mama" mode, which I love. Love.

But, I feel lonely. I miss work. I miss my husband. I miss feeling like part of a team, at work and at home. And this weekend, I kind of just wished - since Sammie B and I were spending the weekend solo (and staying home and NOT doing is NOT my strength)- that we could go DO SOMETHING. Hop a plane to St. Louis to see my mom, hit Disneyland. SOMETHING. But, then, I'd be violating the "light duty" rules, and I can't do that any more than necessary. So, we made the most of our weekend. A quiet morning on Saturday watching "Annie," and then an indoor picnic at home. A quiet morning sitting on the beach with a friend and her daughter on Sunday. Not a bad weekend in all, I KNOW. But still, I just feel a little captive. And alone.

Anyway, so this is a blog post about one of the "not easy, not rosy" times. Right now, life just feels hard. Marriage feels hard. And by admitting that and owning it, I'm not saying my marriage is in trouble (it's not - he did bring me chocolate cake home after he worked all day yesterday, after all). It just means that, well, our right now isn't all roses. That doesn't mean there isn't "rosy" in between. There is. And, I'm hopeful that this week brings more roses, less tears.

Weeks like this . . .

2011-08-03T20:43:00.000-07:00

wear me the EFF out. For real. I actually have a more substantive post in the works, but I most definitely don't have the energy to finish it tonight. We had our appointment with the new PT on Friday, then a relaxing family weekend, then an appointment with Sam's physiatrist on Tuesday, then I went into the office today (for my one day a week in the office) and got totally bombarded with work and ended up staying three hours longer than my doctor thinks I should (this job is just so hard to do on any predictable, enforced schedule, and truthfully, I'm not sure how to make it work that way during this time when I NEED to for the sake of the miniest B), we have a developmental assessment tomorrow with the developmental pediatrician at Sammie B's school (and unfortunately, its not the one I loved loved loved before, but someone new, so I've got the usual pre-appointment anxiety going on), and our second appointment with the new PT (to finish the intake stuff and assessment and talk more about some treatment goals going forward) on Friday. A whole lot of assessing going on, too much talking about the "can'ts" and the "cans" if you ask me, and this mama is WORN OUT. Honestly, I think a 80-hour work week is less draining than one filled with all these stinking assessments and appointments. Add to that some insomnia (which is so unlike me) and nighttime leg cramps and I'm a walking zombie.

But on the brighter side of things I got a text from Sammie B's nanny after school today that had me giggling ALL afternoon, even though I was upset that I still had hours of work to do, that the partners I'm working with needed everything right.now, and that I felt guilty for staying longer than "doctor's orders," and even guiltier bailing at 7:30 pm and sending the partner an email saying, "here is the draft so far, but I've GOT to go home."

Anyway, the giggles. So apparently, Sammie B's class took a little trip to the market today in their six-seater wagon, and Sam saw her teacher carrying money and she kept saying, "me!" and "I want money!" so he let her hold the money on the way to the market. But, as soon as he gave her the money, she looked at it, and said, "MORE MONEY!" That's my girl. She also insisted on buying bananas at the store, and actually ate one that she picked out. Little stinker won't eat a banana at home for anything. Even though I wasn't with her at school today, when I heard that story, I could just picture my girl demanding "MORE MONEY!" and insisting that they buy bananas at the store (as she does every time we go to the market, but then won't eat them!) and feeling so proud that she got to hold the money for her teacher. That story just captures her spirit, captures the magic and giggles that she is.

I so needed those giggles this afternoon.

Her snazz outfit she wore to school today, complete with sparkly purple converse. Girl's got style and magic.

Underwater

2011-07-27T15:46:00.000-07:00

If reading Sammie B's schedule in my last post didn't make your head spin, rest assured, mine is spinning enough for all of us. Three appointments on Monday, school and an appointment Tuesday, school and an appointment Wednesday, two appointments Thursday, and school on Friday. That's not just a busy week. That's her every week.

When we started this journey with the Early Intervention Program, one of our wise doctors (you may remember him in prior posts as "Super Doctor") gave us sage advice: early intervention is important, therapy is important, and the opportunity for free therapy through EI is only there until she's three . . . so take what you can get, but only to the extent that it doesn't interfere with her being a kid and you getting to just enjoy being a family. We really have tried to live by that advice. When we were offered speech therapy, several of our doctors said she probably didn't need it (which, I think was wrong -- while she may have a "typical" amount of words, her articulation is problematic and she has to really be encouraged to use her words, particulary in sentences, though she may not need speech therapy as much as she got it), but that because speech therapy is generally very fun for kiddos and not strenuous, to do it. Sort of like, "why not?" So we did.

I think it was also comforting for B and I to know that she was getting so much therapy and "work" during her days, because it sort of lessened our working-parent guilt that when we got home in the evenings, we were tired, she was tired, and we ALL wanted to just relax and play, not work. And of course, we never wanted to turn down someting that could help her, because as a parent (and probably particularly as parents to a SN child) there's always that nagging worry that maybe we could be or should be doing more for her. So, we took all the therapies we could get, and advocated for more. And suddenly we had the busiest two-year old on the West Coast. And we've managed to keep this schedule for quite some time.

But lately, I find myself going back to what Super Doctor said . . . "as long as it doesn't interfere with her being a kid . . . "

On Sunday, we put together the water table that we'd gotten for Sammie B (after she showed off some stellar standing at the one at her school). She played with it for about a half hour Sunday night before dinner and LOVED it. Like squeals of delight and giggles loved it.

After a half hour at the water table, we came inside, had dinner, did the bedtime routine, and ended our weekend.

Monday, she asked for her "watah table" as I was dressing her and getting her ready to head out the door for her therapy appointments. After PT and OT, she came home, had a nap, and asked for her "watah table" again, but it was almost time for her speech therapist to arrive. Then it was dinner time. Then it was bed time. And suddenly, I was putting my girl to bed and she hadn't gotten to play with her new water table. Sure, she'd had a great day of working hard in therapy, but she hadn't gotten to play with her brand-new water table. And that bugged me. Tuesday was pretty much a repeat, she asked for it as we were headed out to school . . . our day was full, and we didn't have time to squeeze in the water table.

Sammie B has soooo little time for Sammie B-led play. And, while the therapists ALL do their best to make therapy FEEL like play, they are still the ones (for the most part) leading the activities, telling her what to play with, how to play with it, and they all have agendas -- to make her work.

So, while I'm generally dreading the transition to the school district services (in two months - why is time moving at warp speed?) and the evaluation and the IEP and all that goes along with that, I'm also starting to see it as an opportunity to do some rearranging and simplyfing of Sammie B's schedule. Her school program will most likely only be from 8 am - 10:20 am four days a week, and my goal is for her to have at least two weekdays where other than school, she has NO appointments. It shouldn't take a major feat (as it did this week) to figure out a time that her nanny can do something fun and spontaneous with her (they went to the fair today, which required me rearranging multiple appointments ...). I want there to be days where she can just play at home, with her toys. Where she and her nanny (or me or B) can just decide at the last minute to hit the zoo, or the park, or a movie.

We hear so many different opinions from so many different people - therapists, other parents, etc., - that the school-based therapies aren't going to compare in quality or quantity to what she's gotten from EI, that we'll be lucky to get group speech therapy and likely won't get one-on-one therapy, that we should try to continue all our therapies privately if we can afford to, etc., but what I'm feeling right now - what my mama gut is telling me - is that Super Doctor was right and that we HAVE reached the point where the therapies are just.too.much and ARE interfering with her just being a kid. And, we CAN and SHOULD simplify.

So, what I *think* we'll do is count on the school, at least initially, for speech therapy and see how it goes, that reduces our weekly appointment load by two appointments right there (because she'll get her ST while at school). Let the school also work on OT with her, and see our OT only once a week outside of school, instead of two (keeping our OT in the picture is also good because Sam LOVES her OT best). We'll do PT twice a week, as we do now (though we are going to a different clinic -first appointment tomorrow! Think of us!), since that's the area she struggles the most in. And, we'll continue to do hippotherapy, since of all the therapies, I think that's the one that is the LEAST like therapy. We all love it.

Rearranging all of this (and just the change in general from EI to school district) is making my head spin. I literally had to map out Sam's days and put in "free time" so that I can try to work out new schedules with her therapists who all have super busy schedules and limited availability themselves (and also, I'm trying to reduce our driving time and get them to let us do appointments that are close to each other on the same days).

Reducing her therapies will likely fuel that nagging feeling of "are we doing enough?" but somehow, I want us to figure out - for her - a better balance between work and play. I know this means that we'll need to find more ways and more time to work with her at home, and we will. . . but I think about the things we've bought to encourage 'working play' at home (like the water table) that we barely have time to use, and I know this is the right thing to do, at least for a short while. We can always add more therapy later if we need to.

So, my head is spinning thinking about the upcoming transition, rearranging schedules, starting with a new PT, etc. I've also started looking at some private therapeutic preschool options, and well, that adds a new layer of complexity to this whole process. I want to know what other options there are instead of our public options, but then there's the "how would we pay for that?" question. I was actually on TOP of the whole pre-school wait list in LA thing and put her on a wait list for a great private one when she was eight months old. We have a spot, but . . . we know that's not the place for her. Not now. And, well, I don't know how we'd possibly pay for private preschool + our nanny (which we'd still need) + the private therapies that we'll already be paying a lot of money for. In any event, (and the irony in the fact that I was on top of things and had her on other lists forever is that) the private ones that I like best and that would work for her now have wait lists of a year, but I'm going to tour those in case we hate the public option this year and want to switch next year.

This is a tough journey, and while right now, I'm actually feeling pretty optimistic about our transition in general, my head is just spinning with the decisions ahead. I'm worried we won't be offered a public program that we think is a good fit for Sam. Her developmental pediatrician and her current teacher have already indicated that they worry that the public classroom that could most easily accommodate her physical needs is one where she just cognitively and verbally does not belong (which was reassuring, because I'd known that from the moment that the school district mentioned that program, but it was validating to hear from the teacher she's been with for the last year and her developmental pediatrician), and they think the school district may try to pressure us into that program because it makes their job easier - that's the center where the physical therapists are based, where the PT equipment is, etc. We worry we are going to have to fight to make them bring those services to her in a program that fits the rest of her better - and where she'll be challenged cognitively and verbally. I just feel like we have the fight of our lives ahead of us to get the school district to really and truly "get" Sam as a whole child and not just see her as a child with severe motor delays and lump her into a classroom where she cognitively doesn't belong. So, optimistic - yes. But oh the anxiety.

And the questions are swirling . . . Is there a private preschool option that would be a better fit for her? Could we figure out a way to make that financially possible? Are we cheating her by going with the public option so that we can afford the private therapies?

Is there more that we could or should be doing? That nagging question and worry.

Learning from Her

2011-07-26T22:25:00.001-07:00

I'm pretty sure that "taking things in stride" is not something that would EVER be said to describe me. (My mom is smiling in agreement as she reads this, no doubt). I'm generally not patient with people in my life (except Sam, truthfully, my patience as a mother has surprised me in a good way), and well, I have a VERY hard time taking things in stride.

A few weeks ago, as I sat and watched Sammie B ride her horse at hippotherapy, (with NO trunk support from the therapist, for the first time ever!), I couldn't help but think two things:

(1) My girl is a brave one AND

(2) My goodness does she take life in stride.

She started hippotherapy at barely two years old. She whined a little the first session, but within no time, was excited to see the horses and ride them each week. I look at her -- so tiny on that tall horse (with so far to the ground beneath her) and I'm amazed. She's so timid in some things -- like movement (B and I have often said that when it comes to initiating movement, we don't always know what's a motor planning issue vs. a strength issue vs. a vision issue vs. just an "I'm afraid of falling" issue.). We've described her hesitancy in movement as a timidness. She is quiet and cautious. It's easy to see those qualities in her and forget what a brave little girl she is. And, as I sat watching her ride that horse, I was just overcome with pride. She's brave. Our brave Sammie B.

Her week is a busy one. An intense one. Every week, she has:

- 9 hours of her center-based program (that we call "school") (Tues/Wed/Fri mornings)
- 2 hours of occupational therapy (Mon/Thurs)
- 2 hours of physical therapy (Mon/Thurs)
- 2 hours of speech therapy (Mon/Tues)
- 1 hour of hippotherapy (Wed evenings)
- Some swimming thrown in . . . (usually two thirty-minute lessons whenever we can cram them in)

Your head spinning yet?

Yet, my brave little girl just takes it in stride. She takes life -- her busy, chaotic life -- in stride, challenges and all. At TWO years old. And, maybe, just maybe, I will learn to as well.

Then And Now

2011-07-24T23:44:00.000-07:00

Six months pregnant with Sammie B:

And, six months pregnant with her little sister:

I *think* the belly looks smaller this time (though the EIGHT pieces of chocolate cake I've had in the last three days are not going to do THAT any favors), but it is close. Feel free to weigh in on that one (oh and say which hair you like better, shoulder length or longer)!

Still on "light activity/modified bed rest," still keeping on keeping on, and promising more substantive blogging in the days to come!

Update on The Lady Parts

2011-07-15T16:51:00.000-07:00

That's Right - your second installment of CERVIX WATCH 2011!!

Measurements were good today and my perinatologist agreed that I can increase my activity level a little bit, including going into my office one day a week to work (and working from home the rest of the week). The good measurements this week are particularly hopeful news since I did a little more this week than last!

Honestly, I think the one day a week OUT of bed, dressed for work, in an office with a printer and other people will be good for my productivity AND my psyche. So, good news. I'm still going to be closely monitored (measurements every two weeks, shots every week) and have been warned not to overdo it . . .

There you have it. I left the doctor's office feeling happy and relieved, and thinking "maybe I CAN do this gestating business!"

And because every blog post needs a good picture, I'm leaving you with this . . . Playing dressup in Mama's clothes.

My Little Light

2011-07-14T14:48:00.000-07:00

After yesterday's heavy mood and heavy post, I sent my sweet girl off to hippotherapy with her nanny (while I worked on powerpoint slides for an opening argument from bed - grr). And, a little while later, I got a text from her nanny that said, "She's doing AWESOME! Her therapist said this is the BEST session ever - her trunk control is AWESOME and they are barely even helping her." She always semems to know when her mama needs a little sunshine. And she gives so, so much sunshine.

I also had a long talk with a great friend yesterday (who read my blog then spent some time googling and researching gait trainers - yep - THAT good of a friend!) and I asked her, "would a grown-up Sammie B reading my blog feel like what SHE was doing wasn't enough for me?" And, she said, "nope, she would get how very intensely you loved her and how much you wanted to make her life easy and wonderful." I hope so.
Because truthfully, nothing about this journey has made me want more FROM Sammie B. In my moments of being discouraged, I just want more FOR her, and I wish that I could make it all easier.

Sammie B, you are a rockstar. Every single day, you rock this life. And, don't EVER for even a SECOND think that I ever wanted more FROM you, for you've given me more in your two-years and nine-months in this world than I could have ever imagined . . . I could never want any more that the abundance of love and giggles and joy and magic that you give us. I just want more FOR you. I want your life to be easy and carefree. I want you to not have to work so hard at things. And, if there was anyway I could snap my fingers and make that happen, I would. In a heartbeat, not because I want to change who you are (I don't!) but because I want an easiness for you that you haven't yet gotten to know. You, my little girl, are sunshine and magic. And, I wouldn't trade that sunshine and magic for ANYTHING.

Sometimes, Even in the Midst of Magic, Life Stings

2011-07-13T08:54:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, life has a way of piling up and slapping you around a bit. As much as I truly, truly think I've found my place of peace and acceptance, there are always little reminders that things are harder for my girl, and well, sometimes, those reminders feel like punches in the gut.

Yesterday, I took Sammie B to school. (Don't worry! I didn't lift her and I sat on a couch with my feet up while she was in her class! Her teachers are all super-fab and no one would let me lift!). I've really, really missed my Tuesdays with my girl these last few weeks (remember, I took a big pay cut to have these Tuesdays with her) and well, I JUST NEEDED a Tuesday with her, so we took "modified" bed rest on the road (and, I am allowed "light activity!"). They were doing water play in the morning, and Sammie B stood for 25 minutes playing at the water table with her friends - magic.

Then, they put her in the gait trainer. They have a kidwalk gait trainer there, and some days, she walks in it, other days, she doesn't want to and just rests her weight on the pelvic support. Well, yesterday was a "doesn't want to" kind of day, and for whatever reason, I felt discouraged. She's doing SO well with assisted walking at home (with us holding her trunk) and I just feel like a gait trainer would give her SUCH independence, and I want that for her so badly, so when she wants nothing to do with it, it stings a bit. And, somehow (and I hate this about myself) the fact that she refused to take steps in the gait trainer overshadowed my joy over her standing at the water table just moments before. Some moments sting. They just do.

And, then there's the fact that our disabled parking placard expires today and I need to renew it. (Yes, Sam is still at the age that she'd be in a stroller even if she were mobile, but where we live, parking at medical buildings costs a fortune, and if we didn't have the placard, we'd be spending $46 A WEEK to park at her therapy appointments and preschool!). This is our third consecutive "temporary" permit (good for six months) and B said, "I don't know why you won't just get a permanent one so you don't have to do this every six months." But, I can't. I don't want to. So, I didn't. I just sent the temporary placard forms to the doctor, and darn it, I'll do it again in 6 months. When we first got the placard, my stomach flip flopped each time I used it. It no longer does that, but renewing it stings. Can't deny that.

After those few "stinging" realizations or moments, I logged onto my little delayed darling support board and one of my favorite mamas had posted about how she got her daughter's latest evaluation back and how much it hurt her heart to read. Evaluations stink. As I've said before, I'd challenge any parent to sit in a room watching your child be "evaluated" for two hours in areas they struggle and then get a 5-6 page report detailing those struggles and every task your child wasn't able to complete and not want to take your child and run away to the nearest deserted island where there are NO evaluations. So, unfortunately, that post sent my mind reeling to Sam's upcoming preschool evaluations in August (before her transition from regional center to school district services) and I felt that familiar lump of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. Stings.

We also know that we need to start thinking about what equipment Sam will need for preschool, including getting her a gait trainer (which is probably another reason why her lack of enthusiasm over the one at school hit me harder), and this has been a challenge for us because there's so much to think about and consider. Sam's PT doesn't believe in gait trainers for low-tone kids, but she's pretty stuck in her way of thinking and (I think) sometimes looks at kids as very one-dimensional (e.g. she doesn't consider how the independence gait trainers/walkers allow enhance cognitive and social development; all she thinks about is the motor component, and she thinks sometimes giving low-tone kids the 'fall back' of a gait trainer makes it harder to motivate them to walk independently, though I've been told by other PTs that more current research says the opposite is true - the earlier you can give a child independent mobility -- even if its in a power chair -- the GREATER the motivation for independent walking). The PTs at Sam's school, on the other hand, are huge advocates of gait trainers -- because they think the cognitive and social benefits (of being eye-level and up and about with peers) outweighs the other stuff. My gut tells me that's the right approach for Sam. BUT, at school, the PTs swear by the kidwalk and don't have many other options to try. And, I know from talking with other parents that the same gait trainer doesn't work as well for every kid, so before we invest in a piece of equipment for her that will cost thousands of dollars, we really want to try out a lot of different ones and find the perfect fit, and clearly, that's not going to happen with her PT or the ones at school (nor do I necessarily think they are the ones with the best experience to help us in this area; we want someone who has worked with kids in tons of different trainers, who believes in their effectiveness, and is willing to try try try until we find a great one). I LOVE LOVE LOVE Sam's preschool program and every one of the staff there, but my one disappointment, or I guess, their one unfulfilled promise to us, is that they haven't been as proactive as they'd said they would about trying various equipment. When I've brought up other gait trainers, they've generally just given me their spiel about why the Kidwalk is superior to all other gait trainers . . . so much info. So much to tease out. So much worry that we pick the "right" equipment, when part of my heart just hurts that we are picking this stuff out at all. Stings.

SO, with all THAT in mind, and the fact that we'll be losing our regional center funding for PT in September anyway (and will want to supplement whatever PT the school district offers with private PT), I've been researching PTs in our area, and have *finally* gotten an appointment for the end of July with the PT who is supposed to be the best of the best at our Children's Hospital. I'm also told that the PT department at Children's is "PT Heaven" -- tons of great equipment, great relationship with vendors (for equipment trials), etc. So, even though it is kind of a drive, we are excited about this. Though my instinct in life is to fear or avoid change, this is one time that I'm excited about it. I think the change will be good for Sam. I also kind of regret not doing this long ago. Sam's PT ALSO came to us highly recommended, but over time, B and I have generally been disappointed in her professionalism, and also well, she's a little "lackluster" in her enthusiasm, and rarely tries new things. I think in a lot of ways, she uses a "one-size-fits-all" approach, and I just think with kids with delays (or any kid, really) one-size rarely fits all. I've gotten bored with her sessions which are whole lot of the same thing every single time, and I know Sam has too. I think shaking up the routine on PT might be fabulous for Sam (kind of like if we were to work out with a new personal trainer after sticking with the same one for years).

So, here's to hoping that with change comes progress. Because, truthfully, I need it. I am SO very very grateful for every word that comes out of my girl's mouth, every new thing she learns (she's now counting in spanish to 5 :o) thanks to Dora!), every amazing thing she shows me that she knows. But, I'd be lying to everyone if I didn't admit that right now, I'm *needing* some smilestones in the gross motor department. There's so much guilt in even admitting this. Because I love my girl just as she is. Perfection. But at the same time, I'd do ANYTHING to make life easier for her. To remove some of the obstacles in her way (even if she doesn't yet realize they are obstacles). To see her playing in the floor and pop up and run into my arms. To walk holding her hand. I'd give anything.

The transition to the school district gives me such anxiety, but I just keep hope hope hoping that all the *right* people walk into our lives - her life - via this transition. That even though our team is changing, that we end up with an even better "Team Sammie B" that will truly help her accomplish amazing things and be her best little self. And along the way, may some of those obstacles fall out of the way. Hope hope hope.

Oh, and then there's this . . . many people have told me that having a diagnosis would make getting services easier from the school district (which is just silly, that they need a label to justify fulfilling what are obvious needs). So, I bit the bullet and talked to several of her doctors about a cerebral palsy diagnosis. Not because any of them necessarily believes she has a "true" case of CP (she had a clean MRI, though I'm told that doesn't necessarily rule out CP, though 90% of "true" CP cases will have some abnormality on their MRI), but because CP is often used as an "umbrella" diagnosis for a movement disorder when nothing else fits. And, most of her doctors' advice was, "if you can get the regional center to classify her as having CP, do it, it will help her get services in the long run." So, I called the regional center neurologist, went through her medical history, etc. over the phone, and he agreed she could be classified in that sort of "umbrella category" as having CP. And, even though I know that could help her, and even though I've said that after all the tests we've done (and thus, things we've ruled out), CP kind of felt like no-big-deal, I hung up the phone from the neurologist, called B, and sobbed. And he got it. He got why it stung. But, he reminded me, "it doesn't change who she is," and I know it doesn't. It's sort of silly, it's almost a "fake diagnosis" in the sense that the doctor's are applying it because there's no other label to apply, but yet, it still stings.

But despite the stinging moments. Despite the labels and a placard I wish my girl didn't need, there is one thing that is certain -- no label, no placard will EVER define who Sammie B is. And I know that from the bottom of my heart. Her magic defines her, and always will. Her magic that enchants me every single day. So even though there will be occasional "stings" or "slaps," we keep going. We live each day to make sure our magical girl has every opportunity in the world to become her best little self. Her best, most magical little self. The self that only SHE can reveal.

And so, even though I've felt a little "stung" in the last twenty-four hours, I'll end with the truest statement I know. The same words I said to my sweet girl the other night as I sat with her, while she did her wall-standing and watched Dora on the I-Pad (two episodes - that's 50 MINUTES OF STANDING PEOPLE!):

SWEET GIRL, I AM ENCHANTED BY YOU. IN A WAY THAT WORDS CANNOT CONVEY. ENCHANTED.

Innocence.

2011-07-11T10:17:00.000-07:00

One might think with this "bed rest" thing that I'd be blogging much more, but the truth is, my days are sort of running together, and I just feel like there's little blog fodder. I'm not miserable, but I am a tad restless, and I do feel isolated. I SHOULD probably shower and blow-dry my hair and put on make-up occasionally so I feel like less of a slump, but, so far, it hasn't happened.

I spend my weekdays working from bed on my laptop and my evenings and weekends playing in the floor (and napping!) with my Sammie B.

I spend my nights either (1) doing work that I could have/should have done during the day or (2) tossing and turning because I slept too much during the day . . . it is a vicious cycle. While the flexibility of being able to work from home IS normally invaluable, when 'working from home' is my every day, I miss my office, I miss my work clothes, I miss my routine.

Surprisingly, I've spent very little of my non-work time on a computer . . . I've fallen behind on emails, blog, etc. but that's okay. (Apologies to those waiting on return emails that are probably thinking "she's supposed to be in bed! The least she could do is type me a stupid email!").

I WAS super productive on Saturday though. I sat on the bed in our extra bedroom (soon to be Baby No. 2's bedroom) and sorted through all of Sammie B's baby clothes. I put them in nice little tubs labeled by size. I held some of the clothes in my hand and stared in disbelief that Sammie B was ever that small. My eyes filled with tears when I saw her first (premie-sized) pjs. For a little while, the three of us sorted together (well, um, I sorted, while B and Sammie B played with Sammie B's baby hats and *might* have messed up my piles a tad).

We talked about how we are getting a BABY and how lucky she will be to have Sammie B as her big sister. We talked about names (we are having such a hard time this go-round; totally different than with Sam's name -- I knew her name before I even met B!). Sam STILL says "Y'Mon!" when we ask her what she wants to name the baby and we have NO.CLUE where she got that, but she talks about "Baby Y'Mon" frequently and whenever she sees my belly. Though we do NOT have a name picked out just yet (though we've narrowed our list to Charlotte, Mia, Ryan, Emma, and a few others that I'm blanking on right now . . . ), we promise NOT to name her "Y'Mon!"

Sammie B has been such sweetness lately (as usual!). She's also said some pretty stinking cute things that I'm going to tell you about -- mostly because I want them here, so I can remember them forever (or maybe so that she will read them someday too!). So, I leave you with my three most favorite "Sammie'isms" as of late:

- She calls her nanny "Nee" and the other day at dinner, she asked for "Nee," and I said, "Nee isn't here. Where do you think Nee is?" And she said, so very sure of herself: "at work!" So sweet. So innocent. When either B or I are gone, we always tell her "Mama is at work" or "Dada is at work," so she thinks that when her nanny isn't here, she MUST be at work ;o) Innocence. Think she'll be devastated to learn someday that she WAS her nanny's work?

- She often tells us when she feels "happy." (I've mentioned this before; we'll just be playing or riding in the car, and she'll say "happy!" and I ask her if she feels happy and she says "YES!"). Well, we've been talking about other feelings too, and last night, I told her, "Can you ask Dada how he feels right now? Say, 'Dada, how do you feel?'" And she looked right at him and said, "Dada, how do you happy?" B and I loved it. How do you happy!

- Her nanny had a blind date a few weeks ago, and when she arrived the following day, I was asking her about her date. Then, I asked Sammie B, "Do you know what you do on dates with boys?" And she said, "PIZZA!" And, then I realized that whenever she and B have one of their "nights out," we always call it a "date" and they go for pizza (Sam's favorite food, hands down). So, I asked her, "who do you go on dates with?" and she said, "dada!"
My sweet girl, 15 years from now . . . remember this . . . you go on dates with boys and you eat pizza. That's it. Innocence. Perfection.

So that's it. My three favorite Sammie B moments as of late. And now, back to work, in bed.

Just Keep Swimming

2011-07-07T21:14:00.001-07:00

When we were in law school and drowning in final exam preparation and later when we were drowning in bar exam prep (all hurdles that felt so huge at the time and seem so small in hindsight), my friend Kath used to always quote Dory from Finding Nemo -- "JUST KEEP SWIMMING." That mantra always helped me to keep on keeping on with outlining, studying, whatever I needed to do to succeed. And, as we've hit our bumps in the road post-law school, I often think of that saying.

So, here we are. We've hit this whole "bed rest" bump in the road and are having to -- once again -- adjust our "new normal," but we are still swimming right along. Almost unfazed by this new bump in our path.

Okay, so the news you were waiting for - and the beginning of what we'll call:

CERVIX WATCH 2011!!!

So, I went back to the perinatalogist on Monday. I sort of thought that if my cervix measurements were better, they'd be like, "okay, fabulous, false alarm, resume life as normal." That didn't happen. The good news is . . . my measurements WERE better (over 3 cm, thank you very much) but the doctor just said that the good measurements meant that what I'd done for the past week had worked, so to keep doing that . . . which meant - NOT going back to work (but continuing to be able to work from bed); minimal lifting of the Bean at home; and just generally keeping myself to a very light activity level and resting as much as possible. And, I've earned bi-weekly perinatalogist appointments and cervix scans. So, if things start going downhill, we'll know promptly and then we'll readjust our plan. This all gives me great confidence that we WILL make it to term with this new little girl.

At first I was ecstatic that my cervix was, as I immediately declared, looking "long and strong," then I was disappointed that I wasn't being released from the whole (modified) bed rest thing. The thing is, although I might complain about my job and say that if given a choice I wouldn't work (if that were financially an option for us) but I'm not sure that's really the truth. I worked hard to be where I am professionally, and MOST of the time, I do like my job. I thrive on the intensity and the challenge and I LIKE lawyering. So, it is kind of a bummer to be sidelined for what COULD amount to nearly 8 months (4 months pre-baby; 4 months post) and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a tad worried about what that will do to my career trajectory. And I DO care about my career. A great deal. It certainly isn't my number one priority -- my family is -- but it is still important to me, and I know that's okay too. So, I was bummed. Disappointed that the complications were hitting this soon. Disappointed that I'm apparently just not one of those women who can gestate and teach aerobics and run miles and miles and work my tail off until the 9th month. Not how I was made, so to speak.

But, then, I gave myself a pep talk and realized that I CAN still work from home and that MAYBE if I just have a super positive attitude about this, and continue to do QUALITY work while on bed rest for as long as I can, maybe that's what people (read: the people who make promotion decisions) will remember. Maybe they will take THAT as a sign of my commitment and not fault me for what is truly not my fault . . .

So, all I CAN do is just keep swimming and do my best work for as long as I'm able, and listen to my dcotors and do what they say and hope for the best.

And, in the meantime, this whole "modified" bed rest/light activity thing is WORLDS better than REALLY being stuck in bed. I can't lift Sammie B often, but I CAN get in the floor and play with her. We can continue our nightly ritual of "wall-standing" which helps build her leg muscles and helps her work on balance. We read books while wall standing every night (this kid could literally be read to all day everyday and be the happiest Bee in the world; she LOVES books; she finishes the sentences in her books; she seems to know them by heart and is constantly saying "more" when we finish one book).

It's actually become a fun part of our nightly routine -- we read to her while she wall stands, and then we count how many books we read together. When I have to go through "where we are" motor-skill wise with professionals, they always ask how long she's able to wall-stand for and I always have to give the "time" in our number of books. And, right now, I'm proud to say that the other night . . . we READ TWELVE. TWELVE. And tonight . . . EIGHT. And then, together, we counted to eight. We started this little "tradition" at just TWO books. Progress.

And on the weekends, when my bed isn't my make-shift office, modified bed rest most DEFINITELY includes naps together. What's better than that?

So, it is not what we hoped for -- an uneventful pregnancy where I'd get to "go go go" as I normally do. And, yes, we are having to sort of rework our "normal" so that Sam and I are alone less (though we've managed despite B working a little late most evenings this week), and B definitely has to do a little more than he normally does. But, things are looking up, and this "modified bed rest" that allows me to keep working (even if only from home and probably not as much as my "norm") and continue to play with my girl is WAY better than what I feared last week - strict bed rest. So, all in all, good news.

And, of course, Sammie B IS getting used to breakfast in bed while we wait for her nanny to arrive and take her downstairs to leave for school and/or therapy :o) We've even taken breakfast in bed to a whole new level with a new Dora table so Sammie B is tickled pink.

Just a bump in the road. And we -- all of us -- are going to keep on swimming.

Bedridden and Sad (and a lot of talk about lady parts)

2011-06-29T08:42:00.000-07:00

She's tickled by breakfast in bed . . .

Mama's heart is oh-so-heavy (but her smiles help).

Over the weekend, I was feeling a bit of pressure in my lower abdomen. I (of course) hoped beyond hope that it was nothing, that I was just being paranoid because of my history of pre-term birth with Sammie B, but I did remember that feeling of "pressure" as one of the first signs I had of pre-term labor with Sammie B. And, I was worried, even though I told myself *not* to worry, even though B told me *not* to worry.

So, Monday morning, I called my perinatologist and went in. I generally love him, but I think he'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed that morning. . . and I fell a little out of love. Every time I've seen him thus far, I've asked about activity, I've asked about lifting Sam (and he's said "women were putting their kids on their backs and working in fields for generations, so while it may not be ideal that you lift her, it is reality, so try not to worry too much,"). So, his optimism has comforted me up until now and I have been living my life as normal.

I told him that I had a busy weekend, and that I had this slight, occasional pressure in my lower abdomen and he started lecturing me about how I need to slow down, B needs to help more, and that I *need* to remember I'm a high-risk pregnancy. I was sort of blindsided by that, since he's never acted worried before. Anyway, so then he had a look at my cervix. And, for those-in-the-know on cervixes, you know that funneling/shortening means you are *maybe* having signs of pre-term labor (the predictability is difficult, many women might have shorter cervixes in the beginning and go to term, but since it is hard to predict, short cervix = precautionary measures). Anyway, my cervix was "intermittently" shortening and funneling. Bad news. Doctor went into super-cautious mode, told me he wanted me on bed rest for 10 weeks, talked about how if I went into labor now, the baby wouldn't make it, etc. etc. Me = sobbing mess. I texted B "bed rest. can't talk, sobbing."

I just felt, in that moment, the weight of the world. The same weight I felt the day I got put on bed rest for Sammie B. Like this other little person is counting on me, and my body is failing us. Just like it failed Sammie B. Only now, I feel like it is failing this new life AND failing Sammie B all over again. Because she needs a mama that can be fun, that can play in the floor, pick her up, go swimming. And, I can't be that mama if I'm stuck in bed for 10 weeks. It also hurts because everyone keeps telling me that I HAVE to, just for now, put the new baby first. Before me, before Brian, before Sammie B. And, to be honest, in the last nearly three years, Sammie B has been our number 1, she just has. And, right now, putting anything as a higher priority than her just kills me. Guilt that I can't mom up for Sammie B. Guilt that I guess my body isn't meant for gestating. Fear that we'll be on that same familiar NICU roller coaster again. Fear that we won't even make it that far. Guilt, fear, worry. And, just a general longing to pick up my girl and do the things with her that we do.

So, after destroying me emotionally (or maybe just doing his job and putting the fear of God into me), my peri sent me to my regular OB. She'd already talked to him. She said she needed to see my cervix for herself. (Again, for those in-the-know, when the peri had measured, it had intermittently shortened to as short as 1.7 cm, but then lengthened again to over 3. Apparently, 1.7 is bad bad bad (1.5 = hospital bed rest); 3.3 is good good good (above 2.5 is normal)). She measured it at 4 cm, and said she'd swear on her life his measurements were wrong. The thing is though, he showed me the shortening/funneling, so I know he wasn't just making it up. Anyway, the OB mentioned a cerclage as a precautionary measure, but she'd talked to the peri about it and he disagreed. So, she wanted me to see another peri and I went to him immediately. He got the same great measurements she'd gotten, and he took several . . . all above normal. So, he explained that the cervix is dynamic and can literally change in hours or days or weeks, particularly when "maternal stress" is lessened or increased. Because he got normal measurements, he just wanted me home on bed rest for a week, and then to re-evaluate in a week. So, that's where we are. Home. Bed. Sad. Worried. Guilty. And trying not to stress. I'm working from bed this week, our nanny and B are doing all the Sammie B lifting, and well, that's that. It stinks. Pure and simple. But we are optimistic that when I see my peri again Tuesday, things will look better.

And, all my amazing mama friends have already rallied around me, reminding me that Sammie B doesn't care if we are playing in bed, playing on the floor, or playing at the pool. That, "working with her" on her PT *can* (and for now, has to) be left to dada and our nanny, and that this is my chance to spend time cuddling and giggling and playing in bed. That lessens the guilt, though it is still there. Ever so slight.

I know that even if I do end up on long-term bed rest, this will just be little blip in our family's history. I know that. Yet, I feel like all I want to do is hold my girl, and apologize to her little 2.5 year old self, and tell her that mama is so very very sorry if she's not being the mama that she needs me to be.

To my Sweet girl - my first - the magic little girl that made me "mama," I can promise you this . . . every single day I wake up with the number one goal to be the best mama to you that I can be. To be the mama that you need me to be. And, even if the ways in which I can do that (or the location from which I can do it from) is a little limited for this short time because I have to also figure out how to be the mama that your little sister needs me to be, it is still my goal. To be the mama you need. I love you with all my heart, and your magic and your smile comfort me and soothe my soul in a way that nothing else can. I love you.

This is hard.

Her Dada (In Honor of Daddy's Day)!

2011-06-24T11:29:00.000-07:00

Ellen, over at Love That Max, recently did a post on the topic of Why Dads of Special Needs Kids Rock . . .

I read the post and while many of the comments resonated with me (Ellen had dads themselves write in with their reasons why they rocked), I thought this one summed up my B the best (and I hope its author doesn't mind me pasting here - I'm linking up!)

"Mothers are nurturing, healing, comforting and when needed, can be a ferocious mother bear. Fathers are the rock. The source for strength and leadership. The father's role is to lead by example. To instill values, morals, determination and will without having to speak a word about them. When our children are diagnosed with a special need, that strength is greatly challenged. It's in these times that the father either falters or shows his greatest strength stands up to the challenge. When that happens, you know, without a doubt, that his child will turn out just fine. That father has taken the hardest, biggest and most important step to being the rock, source of strength and leader that the child will grow up to learn from. That's a comforting thought." —Stuart Duncan, Autism From A Father's Point of View

B doesn't just rock -- B IS my rock. Our rock. He's the wind in my sails when life sucks it out of me. He's the calm to my storm. He's the one who can look at me and say "I'm not worried," and somehow, my own worry melts away.

But, here's the thing . . . B doesn't rock (and isn't just my rock) because our kiddo has some different needs. He rocks because it is who he is. "Dada" just fits him. And oh how our girl loves him. (She said this morning he's her best friend . . . I didn't cry toooo much because I know that on another day, she might answer "mama," but really? Their relationship is pretty magical, like her.).

I've said it here before, I'm often amazed and envious at B's ability to roll with the punches, to put worry aside and just play and have fun and live in the moment. I'm lucky to be traveling this road beside him, because he's the one that continually reminds me to do the same. And for that, and for him, my rock, I'm oh-so-grateful. Sammie B is lucky to call this man "dada," just as we are lucky (beyond lucky!) to call her "ours."

To B - there's no one else I'd rather walk this journey with. And to our sweet Sammie B - your dada and I are so very blessed to walk YOUR journey with you. To hold your hand when you need it, to giggle with you, to hold you, to love you. To be YOURS.

To my rock, and my bee - you both rock. And I love you both with all my heart.

Our Right Now

2011-06-15T22:01:00.001-07:00

So I admit, the first few months of this pregnancy were hard for me. I was tired. Like falling over tired. All.the.time. I was nauseous. All.the.time. The nausea medication I took with Sam that proved MIRACULOUS then did nothing to stop the nausea this go-round. I was (to be frank) a little surprised to find myself pregnant and truthfully, a little overwhelmed by it. I had to immediately go off of my anxiety medication, which on top of the nausea, exhaustion, etc., was sort of recipe for a me that was just barely functioning. I worried non-stop about how we'd make it all work. How we'd fit this extra little person into our insanely busy lives. I wondered how on earth I could possibly love any other little creature as much as I love our Sammie B. Overwhelmed.

But now, at almost 20 weeks pregnant, that fog of yuck has (thankfully) lifted. I feel JOY about being pregnant. I love talking to Sammie B about how she's going to be a big sister (to a little sister!) and all the things she'll teach the baby (right now, "eating" and "playing" are her top agenda items). While I'm not necessarily eager to meet this new little one anytime super soon (we'll take full-term please!), the thought of introducing MY girl to our new girl is pretty freaking exciting. Sisters.

When I think about our right now, there are, of course, some things that weigh on my mind. Upcoming doctor's appointments (seems there's always someone to follow up with . . . ), the transition in September from the Early Intervention program to the school district for Sam's services, changes in therapists, the 'what ifs' about the future, etc. The thing is, though, those things sort of "flutter" through my mind occasionally throughout my days. I feel a moment of worry, and I move on. The "what-ifs" that I feel like used to knock me over are just "flutters" these days. And that's good.

As I was driving Sam to her little school the other day and we were happily singing and dancing along with our radio, I felt so incredibly happy. And then I had a moment. One of the fluttery worrying kind of moments. But then, just as soon as it came, it left, and I was back to singing. To happy.

Our days are not always easy. Particularly in weeks like this -- where for the first time in awhile, I'm ridiculously slammed at work (15 hour day yesterday) . . . but then, there are evenings like tonight, where I left work at a decent time, met Sammie B and B for dinner, we laughed and talked over dinner (and B and I finally had the opportunity to chat about our weeks!); we came home and giggled and played together, just the three of us; then I laid with Sammie B until she fell asleep. And, as I laid there with her, watching her little eyelids get heavier and heavier and heavier until she finally gave into sleep and let out her little "I'm asleep" sigh, I thought about our "right now."

And this is what I realized . . . I have my flutters. I have worries. But mostly . . .

Mostly, our right now is amazing. We have this amazing little girl who shows us love and magic and wonder on a daily basis. We have good jobs that allow us to provide for that magic little girl. We have each other. We will soon welcome another little someone to our world. And, we're happy. So, yeah, tonight, my "right now" feels amazing.

And, coincidentally, after that fabulous, "my right now is amazing" moment, I tried to slip out of Sammie B's bed (as we do each night) and I accidentally rolled onto her Dora doll and made her talk . . . and the second Dora started talking, Sam giggled, in her sleep, and said, "Hola Dora!" With that, I smiled. A really big smile, and slipped out of her room to get back on the computer and do more work. Feeling oh-so-grateful for my life, my right now.

I leave you with another picture . . .

2011-05-27T10:42:00.000-07:00

Long time no post. Truthfully, this pregnancy fatigue is just kicking.my.butt. I fall into bed as soon after Sam's asleep as possible and that sort of nixes much of my free blogging/surfing the internet/etc. time. I really, really, really hope the fatigue passes (I'm having my iron tested because my doctor thinks this level of tired could = anemic) because frankly, a girl needs more energy than THIS to do work + mom + life.

Other than that, life is good. We've been busy just "being." Sam's still the most loving little girl EVER. She's obsessed with Dora. Her vocabulary seems to expand every day. Her memory astounds us. (It's going to come in handy later - she remembers WHERE she last left things . . . I lose stuff a lot, so I think we are going to be a good team). She makes us giggle A LOT. Pure magic.

And here's a picture of her sweetness (and me).

My Most Favorite Picture Ever (Of My Most Favorite People Ever)

2011-05-10T10:47:00.000-07:00

Last month, Sammie B was invited to a little Easter Egg hunt/birthday party for one of the other kiddos at her school. It happened to be the same night that I had tickets to see ROD STEWART (a dirty secret - I adore him. And yes, I was the youngest person at the concert that wasn't drug there by much older parents), but I didn't want Sammie B to miss her party.

Like the fab dad that he is -- B agreed to take her to the party and I went to the concert with a friend. (Since he was raised Jewish, and we don't really do "Easter," I think it was his first Easter Egg hunt too ;o)) He did comment on his way out the door, "I hope you do appreciate this - its such a 'you' thing to do." It is true, I usually work the party circuit and let him stay home. Anyway, I said, "Just make an appearance, you don't have to stay long." So, after we snapped some pictures of the two of them looking ADORABLE, off they went.

He'd be mad at me for telling this, but it is too endearing not to share . . . he went and bought that shirt special for the occasion because he wanted to look more "grown up" than he does in his usual weekend attire - trendy t-shirts and cargo shorts (a look I like much!). It worked. Doesn't he look so grown up?

I texted him a little while into the party asking, "are you having fun?" and got this back:

I took that as a "yes."

They indeed had tons of fun, and stayed for the entire party . . .

I enjoyed every second of Rod and Sammie B and B had a fun-filled day as well, and now both have their first easter egg hunt under their proverbial belts.

I'm lucky to call those two "mine."