tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82581774299000443922024-03-05T23:13:06.780-08:00It's a merciful lifeCindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-10469514072523288262020-08-20T09:48:00.000-07:002020-08-20T09:48:01.072-07:00The Covid Coaster<p>Like most parents I know, never in a million years would I have dreamed that we would live during a pandemic. It never even entered into my mind. Ever. Yet, here we are. Covid-19. And the new school year almost upon us.</p><p>As I have weighed the back to school decision closely, looking at data, listening to both MD and public health experts, watching leadership, and talking to friends and medical teams, it is clear that there is no perfect decision. It's a pandemic, with way too many unknowns, impacting people around the globe. There will be ideals which need to be compromised, regardless of which decision I make. Some will say our state is in good shape, and kids should just return to in person full time. Others will say our state numbers have been increasing, and kids should just do remote. Several MD's I know, who have a knowledge base of disease that is much greater than I have, have said their children will not be returning to in person. Other MD's are sending their children back. The result of all of this has been a level of angst that I have not experienced in a long, long time. I have fluctuated between maybe they can/should go back to hybrid in person to no way will I take that risk and jeopardize lives, either the lives of my children or the lives of our teachers. As one of my BFF's has suggested, we are currently riding the Covid coaster. The emotional ups of "maybe this isn't so bad" and the numbers seem better to the downs of thousands are dying daily and "covid testing is required before all hospital procedures" (clearly it is not "not so bad") are easily like the ups and downs of a rollercoaster. Even though it is not possible, I want off of the Covid coaster. </p><p>My children love school. They thrive in school. They love friends and learning. They love their teachers. They love the routine school brings, and the comfort of that routine. I love that they love school and that when we are in that routine, all of our mental health is better. And yet, the remaining 4 children in my home are all medically complex with a variety of diagnoses from congenital heart defects to transfusion dependent thalassemia to immunocompromised post liver transplant. Asthma, allergies, susceptibility to sepsis, and failure to thrive are some other diagnoses. We are at Boston Children's Hospital every three weeks, with lab visits every 10 days between those treatment days. When I asked our transfusion staff what happens to our regularly scheduled blood transfusions if our family is quarantined, I was told that it is very likely we will be asked to wait to come in. My children would not be refused treatment, but rescheduling becomes a bit of a logistical nightmare as a solo parent. Do I really want to take the chance of disrupting what little routine we have left in order to have in person instruction once or twice a week? Will that really improve our mental health? Or will it actually bring more stress and anxiety?</p><p>With so many unknowns about the future, one thing that is very clear is that our in person instruction will look nothing like what we have known in the past. Gone are the days of freely playing and interacting, sharing toys and materials, and hugging or holding hands with friends and teachers. There will be no chatting in the lunchroom or saving a seat for a friend. There will be no all school sing alongs or talent shows. As I have said to my children, the whole thing just stinks. Yet, as I have also said to my children, it will not be this way forever. I suppose the reminder is just as much for me as it is for them.</p><p>At the end of the day, when all is quiet in my home and my girls are all asleep, I think back to the time when I was flying home with my youngest who was dying of end stage liver failure. I think back to how she fought with every fiber of her being to remain alive. I think back to the terror I felt when I thought of life without her. Parenting her is the closest I have ever come to that threshold between life and death with any of my children, a place that no parent ever wants to be. Parenting her has taught me that life is precious and delicate. Parenting her holds the fear that due to her immunocompromised status, she is always at risk for life threatening complications from ANY virus. We don't live in that fear, and yet, we are wise and vigilant. We follow the advice of our transplant team and get our vaccinations including flu shots. She receives tamiflu when any family member tests positive for flu and we head to the ER with fevers. We avoid all big crowds during flu season, and do not have playdates when someone is sick or has been sick in that household. We have used purell and bleach wipes years before it became the norm. It is just the reality of how we settled in post transplant and go about our lives. </p><p>As I contemplate and agonize over the school decision, I long for the days we had before being on the covid coaster. I realize now how those days were gifts. Gifts we took for granted. Being able to go to school, interact in carefree manners with others, and experience all that being in school has brought in the past is a gift, even with all of it's imperfections. And I realize now, life is still a gift. Even in this covid coaster madness that I desperately want to end. </p><p>Reflecting on where our lives have taken us up to this point and the lessons learned through it, remote learning is where we need to be. For now, not forever. Even with my children remaining at home for the next school year, engaging in remote learning, there will still be so many gifts and opportunities to find incredible mercies given to us. Including, I hope, the end to the covid coaster. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4fVkEHP1dj6Ilsi1FXAaK7t1E7Bx5ddXd9qa0EPLnHutc7evInZM6q3I8jGs58vskUMfIZTJ6onuift8kMUMr5u_yWdHFyKNE_z7LtKrv4pbfZ9-Goyz3YmRoCOs4v_nlWBAt3Xdp0nI/s2048/IMG_9012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4fVkEHP1dj6Ilsi1FXAaK7t1E7Bx5ddXd9qa0EPLnHutc7evInZM6q3I8jGs58vskUMfIZTJ6onuift8kMUMr5u_yWdHFyKNE_z7LtKrv4pbfZ9-Goyz3YmRoCOs4v_nlWBAt3Xdp0nI/s640/IMG_9012.jpg" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-31073356182114674132018-10-08T07:54:00.001-07:002018-10-08T07:56:47.329-07:00The dyslexia lotteryWhen it comes to dyslexia, my family has won the lottery. Out of my 4 school aged children, 3 are diagnosed with varying degrees of dyslexia. And if my suspicion is accurate, I might just have 4 out of the 5. The odds of that happening to non biological siblings in a family is literally like winning the lottery. The statistics show that close to 15-20% of the population has dyslexia. Right now, my family is at 60%. It could be 80%. Hence, dyslexia lottery.<br />
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Over the years I have had to learn a lot about what it means to be a non traditional learner in a traditional learners academic world of children. Bottom line, it inevitably causes a lot of angst for the majority of children. Self esteem literally becomes chipped away. One of my incredibly bright daughters began saying she was stupid in grade 1. Self confidence plummeted. As a 6 year old. The only thing she looked forward to at school was PE.<br />
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People with dyslexia have at least average if not above average intelligence. One of my daughters with dyslexia has an IQ in the superior range, far brighter than me, that is for sure. It's this unexpected difficulty with reading and spelling (given that there is average or above average intelligence) that is the hallmark of dyslexia.<br />
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Interestingly, in talking to people, many think kids with dyslexia are unable to read at all. That is not the case. All of my daughters were able to read to some degree in their prospective grades when they were diagnosed. Yet, their reading was slow and laborious. Often there were word errors. Sometimes they would guess. Dyslexia researches say kids without dyslexia become able to look at the letters of a word an automatically know what that word is. They don't need to think about it. They can read quickly which enables the brain to focus on the meaning of what is being read. Kids with dyslexia have to think it through and use the rules that they learned to figure out what a word is. Reading then becomes slowed down. Meaning can be lost. Asking schools for timed tested "cold" (never read before) reading results (such as those used by the DIBELS which many school districts give to elementary aged children) can be helpful in discerning if a child is having reading difficulty.<br />
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For two of my daughters, early on I knew something wasn't quite right for them. One was very slow to pick up language and for the other there was some difficulty in remembering the right word when speaking. For both, pronunciation was off. There was difficulty learning days of week and months of the year, or the names of classmates. One had difficulty following multistep directions. As they got older and into elementary school, there were difficulties reading and spelling words. For my other daughter (the third to be diagnosed), I was absolutely caught off guard by her diagnosis. She didn't have articulation issues. She could rhyme. Her vocabulary was precocious, so much so that her pediatrician even remarked about it at her 4 year old physical. She sometimes forgot a word (knowing as word finding) or remembering the name of a classmate but it was subtle. Her biggest issue was with learning sight words. Oh, those dreaded sight words. It was this difficulty that should have raised my guard with her in kindergarten as it was part torture to memorize them. Many kids with dyslexia have difficulties with memory for sight words or math facts.<br />
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In order to make the best progress possible, children with dyslexia need a explicitly taught scientifically based multi sensory program for reading which basically means a proven program using all of the senses to directly teach the skills necessary for reading. The window for the best outcome is when the child is very young-kindergarten and first grade. Watching, waiting, or hoping for things to improve is not the way to go. By the time kids are in 3rd grade, they are expected to read to learn. In 3rd grade if a child reads slowly, or is not reading at grade level, significant academic challenges arise which almost always lead to emotional symptoms. Research shows it becomes almost impossible to catch up once there are reading gaps in 3rd grade. Because the treatment for dyslexia is so specific and the window for optimal results is so young (kindergarten and first grade), we as parents need to be asking our teachers and school systems what they are doing to identify kids who are showing signs of reading difficulty. We cannot trust subjective measures (like Fountas and Pinnell A-Z levels) but must look for objective screenings such as DIBELS.<br />
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Two of my daughters are incredibly blessed and lucky to go to the Carroll School. Carroll was started 51 years ago and uses a complete researched based scientific framework for teaching children with dyslexia. The premise of Carroll is to "give each child what he or she most needs". This means that the child's ENTIRE academic program is tailored to his or her learning profile. At Carroll, children are not plugged into available programs. Rather, a program is developed directly for the child. For my daughters, this has been nothing short of life changing. My second grader, who as a first grader believed she was stupid, just remarked "I am good at reading" for the first time ever. She has only had a month of school at Carroll. For both girls, being at a place where all of the students have dyslexia has enabled anxiety around school to subside. The gains in confidence they both show is beyond measure. The love of school and learning has been restored. And they are learning to advocate for what they need as learners, a skill that will help them throughout their lives. I cannot even express the gratitude I have for Carroll school for changing the course of my daughters' lives. It is worth every sacrifice we have made in order for their attendance at this exceptional academic facility.<br />
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Winning the dyslexia lottery means my daughters have joined the ranks of other incredible minds with dyslexia. People such as Steven Spielberg, Charles Schwab, Henry Ford, Greg Louganis, Thomas Edison, Tommy Hilfiger, Erin Brokovich, George Washington, Nelson Rockefeller, Cher, Billy Bob Thornton, Danny Glover, Jennifer Aniston, Albert Einstein, Walt Disney, Ansel Adams, Leonardo da Vinci, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Agatha Christie, Hans Christian Andersen, and the list goes on and on. Winning the dyslexia lottery does not mean that my goals for each of my girls has changed; goals of knowing God, being kind to others, and contributing in a meaningful way to society. It just means that they might take a non traditional route to get there.<br />
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<br />Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-30656662087073439212017-10-17T08:34:00.000-07:002017-10-17T08:34:48.092-07:00Liver disease awareness monthIt is hard to believe that next month will mark 3 years since my eyes met the most beautiful baby. A suffering baby. A dying baby. A baby given "no hope"<br />
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It was November 2014. I was already single with 4 kids, two requiring ongoing regular medical care, and had no intention to bring home one more child. God had other plans. Our intention was to go and serve. To use my skills as a pediatric OT to serve the caregivers and children in orphanages. And then I met her. Our eyes locked and her eyes pierced my heart. She was tiny and jaundiced. Her abdomen was hard. She had biliary atresia. And during her transplant surgery it was also determined that she had a choledochal cyst (cyst of the bile ducts). <br />
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Biliary atresia is a condition where ducts to drain bile (which is made in the liver and necessary for digestion) become blocked. Bile can no longer drain from the liver and instead starts destroying it. This destruction becomes deadly. There is no cure. A surgical procedure to "re-route" the bile into the intestines can be successful for some patients. This surgical procedure must be done very soon after birth in order to give the best chance for success. And even when done early, most babies will still go on to need a liver transplant in order to survive. <br />
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Liver disease is beastly. As the bile becomes stuck in the liver, the liver itself hardens and the abdomen swells in size. Sometimes the spleen also becomes swollen. Fluid can build up in the abdomen. The size of the enlarged organs makes it hard to eat and breathe. The bile build up causes intense internal itching, making it difficult to rest. Because the damaged liver can no longer aid digestion, malnutrition sets in. Muscles become wasted. The body's ability to clot becomes impaired risking bleeding to death. Infection is another threat to a baby's life with both infections of the liver and systemic sepsis. These are all of the realities of end stage liver failure.<br />
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The only "treatment" for end stage liver failure, which is the diagnosis that most babies with biliary atresia will end up with, is a liver transplant. It is not a cure. It.is.not.a.cure. One condition is traded for another condition with liver transplant. Sometimes I look at my girl and she just looks so good. And she is doing so remarkably well. She is so much better than when she was obviously gravely ill. Yet, the previous issues are traded for new ones. She will continue to need regular lab work for the rest of her life. She will continue to need twice daily immune suppression medications for the rest of her life. This lowers her ability to fight infections. She will continue to need medications to protect her kidneys and combat her high blood pressure which result from her immunosuppressants. She is at higher risk for food allergies and certain cancers. She could lose her liver to rejection. In some ways, it can be terrifying to think of all of the what if's... <br />
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Instead, we choose to focus on today. Today, she is running around with boundless energy, all because of her liver transplant and our hero donor. Today she is talking, all because of our donor. Today, she is making us laugh with her incredible sense of humor, all because of our donor. Today we soak in the joy she brings, all because of our donor. Today, we bring awareness of her miracle story during liver disease awareness month, all because of a great God who wove our lives together.<br />
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In many ways I am so glad I did not know God's plan back in November 2014. I would have been too afraid to meet her knowing what was in store. It's a thought that makes me shudder. Because then, we would have missed this. We would have missed all of this. The world would have missed out on the chance to watch her miracle life unfold. An orphan dying of liver disease given no hope becomes a cherished daughter who, against every odd, lives. She lives so well, with such zest and joy. We would have missed out on on the greatest gift and lesson of having this little one in our lives: loving each other while living each day in the moment. Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-53877240637926649962017-08-28T16:01:00.000-07:002017-08-28T16:01:32.351-07:00Hope winsSometimes life takes us where we are not expecting.<br />
Sometimes life takes us on a journey we would have never planned or wanted for ourselves.<br />
Sometimes, we end up right where we need to be, despite the resistance, despite the fear, despite the unknown answers.<br />
Sometimes, somehow, goodness comes from the darkness. Sometimes, somehow, beauty does come from ashes. Sometimes, somehow, we rise above the adversity, we rise above the forces against us, and sometimes, somehow, hope wins. <br />
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Today, my mighty Mia started a new chapter in her education. Ever since she started her education, she has been an outlier. She tried. Oh, did she ever try, to learn like the "traditional" kids. The amount of effort she put in has been monumental. She was exposed to many ideas and skills, but never to mastery. The result? A foundation with many holes. <br />
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The holes became apparent a few months ago at her 3 year re-evaluation for continued special education services. Something inside me told me to really look at those test scores. Something inside of me told me to really understand those scores. As I began my work to figure out the true meaning of scaled scores, standard scores, and percentile ranks for each test, I stumbled upon the seemingly impossible concept...that instead of progress, there was regress. How.could.this.be? I graphed the scores from three years ago with the ones I just received, and there was no avoiding the truth. As I presented it to our team, their eyes grew wide. Clearly, we needed more information. Clearly, these graphs were not expected. Clearly, this was not the picture they had hoped to present. This was not the picture I had hoped to see either. Now, I see it very clearly. A foundation with so many holes. And yet my girl amazingly stood tall on this foundation with a huge smile on her face. Until that smile started to fade. <br />
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The foundation with holes was starting to steal the spirit of my girl.<br />
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I could only do what any mother who comes to the realization that this is happening to her child would do. I would seek to stop this. I would seek to stop this because this must stop. I had more meetings. I asked questions of parents facing similar circumstances and learned from those who went before me. I studied the law. I used every ounce of resources I could muster up. I prayed. I prayed a lot. I looked for an open door, and when I found it, I crept slowly towards it, with my girl in tow, worried about where I was going and what was being left behind. <br />
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I looked for reassurance that I was doing the right thing. After today, I need no reassurance. I know. As I sat and listened, I learned that my girl's new school started 50 years ago as a civil rights movement. It came out of the need for a place for children who learn differently to have a better educational system. Because children, like my girl who was always an outlier, deserve an appropriate education. Because children, like mighty Mia, deserve to make meaningful progress. And she's entitled to it by law. And now, this same school, is seeking to reach even more underserved populations. Namely, to those who could not afford such an education because lack of financial means. The very real package of financial aid which is allowing my mighty girl to attend. <br />
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For the first time ever in her lifetime my girl is not an outlier. She is surrounded by peers who learn like she does. For the first time in her life she is in a place where she learns just like everyone else. For the first time in her life, I have heard the words that she is not disabled, but very abled. She and her peers think in ways that the traditional kids do not think, but they are able. They can go on to attend colleges and universities, including some of the top in the country. The holes of their foundations will be filled in. With solid foundations, the academic trajectory is changed. Life is changed. With a foundation filled in, my girl's spirit will soar.<br />
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Logistically, there are still so many unknowns and questions to be answered. How do I be in two places at once? How do I manage the weeks where labs and hospital care must occur when the two children who need it are in schools some 30 miles away from each other? Will mediation or a hearing be necessary? How will all this work out? Will this settle into a routine? And although the answers are unclear, I know the One who holds them. I trust the reassurance that let me know we are right where we need to be. And I know that hope wins. It always does.<br />
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-69643409159389784362017-07-14T14:30:00.000-07:002017-07-14T14:30:49.531-07:00Going in HopeI saw the looks. The raised brows. The jaw drops. Yes, I was returning to China for a mission trip with all 5 kids including my 3 year old immunocompromised child. And I was taking another high school student. So, in total it would be myself and 6 kids under the age of 16. All traveling to China, for nearly three weeks, to walk among the needs. It was not for a sightseeing tour, not that that would be a piece of cake either. It would be a working trip. A service trip. Hence, the reactions.<br />
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I have thought about what my reaction and thoughts would be if I were on the outside looking in at me and what I was doing. I suppose the questions would enter my mind. Why? Why travel with all of those kids? Wouldn't it be easier to leave the kids at home? Wouldn't more get accomplished without children present? What would possess someone to do this? Has she finally, once and for all, lost her mind? <br />
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For some of these questions, I cannot even give an answer. Well, maybe it's that I cannot give an answer that would satisfy the onlookers. Maybe it's that there is no logical answer as to how I CAN do this. Because it really is something beyond human which enables this type of work by a single mother of 5, along with all 5 kids and a bonus kid in tow. That is for certain. It is purely divine although even among some fellow believers it seems that this answer could continue to be resisted and/or questioned. <br />
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But then, then there is the evidence. The coming out of the haze of jet lag and looking at the images of what happened. The proof. Of what is happening when my eyes are not on them. This is so much more than me. It always has been. I do not have the control or the power to do what is being done in the lives of my girls. It's impossible and illogical. <br />
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<br />
The only answer I can give to the onlookers, and to myself, is that it is God doing this work in and through us. And that I will never have all of the answers as to why. We only say yes. And we go. He is doing all the rest. <br />
Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-43191090545622357192017-05-06T18:31:00.000-07:002017-05-06T18:31:13.030-07:00Two years of HopeTwo years ago today I raced half way across the world to a dying baby. Two.years. In some ways, I had no idea what I was doing. I knew I had to go. I just said yes, and went. Because I knew, I just knew, she did not deserve to be alone in her suffering. She deserved to be chosen. She deserved to be loved. No matter how many days on this earth she has. <br />
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In the two years she has been part of us, she has taught so much. I opened my hand to let go of so much, and my faith deepened in ways unimaginable. No longer could I depend on myself or my own competency. It was no longer enough. I had to rely on God. On His hope. And the #choosehope became our mantra. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAFf76LEfwDKLP8Z-0bSkmQzEaLG2-Lj_Kt8cNS5W9GqmuHMd8tNrikrHAKSxk3Sl42Bkyty-VCJG0Is6TwU5oj6m0aYrYK7NhhxGS_tUkLXwHVhG-3CgHXdKPbvB7CVaRsluGByFtwyY/s1600/IMG_4912.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAFf76LEfwDKLP8Z-0bSkmQzEaLG2-Lj_Kt8cNS5W9GqmuHMd8tNrikrHAKSxk3Sl42Bkyty-VCJG0Is6TwU5oj6m0aYrYK7NhhxGS_tUkLXwHVhG-3CgHXdKPbvB7CVaRsluGByFtwyY/s400/IMG_4912.jpg" width="226" height="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3M5G8kCkBSkDMtTL1m7oivgbutS7gAIj3zaI-rbLEE2SypyUF5lKMaSkgbuzMhPaF_akE4va2fnWYLDEYxrXkP4yWsNMxBBb0-ohHazeUxoIdUx64SlLYExdmQBLL5Kp90MNxZeytAwo/s1600/IMG_4914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3M5G8kCkBSkDMtTL1m7oivgbutS7gAIj3zaI-rbLEE2SypyUF5lKMaSkgbuzMhPaF_akE4va2fnWYLDEYxrXkP4yWsNMxBBb0-ohHazeUxoIdUx64SlLYExdmQBLL5Kp90MNxZeytAwo/s400/IMG_4914.jpg" width="272" height="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLt-Tb5qDl7aDAPr1jQUEesNLWA9CMu9oLLVkgmEX3Qum6Znoe42rk_s4cuPMvGIJ7rezMDGU-45TeCJWapqRRP0OVW_CQW4RAxj4ZhVjhTUX_LjTMYK-1_eD1c1g138AdtrIxN6R1pq8/s1600/IMG_4918.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLt-Tb5qDl7aDAPr1jQUEesNLWA9CMu9oLLVkgmEX3Qum6Znoe42rk_s4cuPMvGIJ7rezMDGU-45TeCJWapqRRP0OVW_CQW4RAxj4ZhVjhTUX_LjTMYK-1_eD1c1g138AdtrIxN6R1pq8/s400/IMG_4918.jpg" width="218" height="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV3kVb1S0j-HLlI_dN1HMJeYVRvj7T_mIRYpXpDI8dmMc54NKxS-eUS1TSYNQzUeUr-swWnmlZ952YIp3d8iKLmlj0xAa1f5fege2Hz7RRUrMTeo39KPo3AzwAvXkEsXPPFwIVOBndPAw/s1600/IMG_4921.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV3kVb1S0j-HLlI_dN1HMJeYVRvj7T_mIRYpXpDI8dmMc54NKxS-eUS1TSYNQzUeUr-swWnmlZ952YIp3d8iKLmlj0xAa1f5fege2Hz7RRUrMTeo39KPo3AzwAvXkEsXPPFwIVOBndPAw/s400/IMG_4921.jpg" width="266" height="400" /></a></div><br />
She is a gift. She is a gift I wasn't expecting. She is a miracle witnessed by my own eyes, defying all odds and expectations. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgduGVh6U-w70n21bJ3pbAyT4GhMwEbUXnQnLVXXoDSBS67yKJ6P1G1Ebd1zmwT7CFnfnnGNE7NeAgXapvVDS0-R-iycto-buFdWNEcF_cxNJmPFzi85iO-mo3Yf_ShCsdz7_7S0OEjcKU/s1600/IMG_5212.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgduGVh6U-w70n21bJ3pbAyT4GhMwEbUXnQnLVXXoDSBS67yKJ6P1G1Ebd1zmwT7CFnfnnGNE7NeAgXapvVDS0-R-iycto-buFdWNEcF_cxNJmPFzi85iO-mo3Yf_ShCsdz7_7S0OEjcKU/s400/IMG_5212.JPG" width="400" height="267" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRs937cMLXRMH_iktRb-mprfHYHgDEER6wOVSMVQIvzAKyB5hyphenhyphenExn2OASK5B2I_bH1QquFW_D8h4tkvW1bdCyRZ2I3Jw0VZ2J8S17u2IY8Jqu63UGCIr35CnZ7Uj_TKF9sAYMg_nBTAes/s1600/IMG_5213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRs937cMLXRMH_iktRb-mprfHYHgDEER6wOVSMVQIvzAKyB5hyphenhyphenExn2OASK5B2I_bH1QquFW_D8h4tkvW1bdCyRZ2I3Jw0VZ2J8S17u2IY8Jqu63UGCIr35CnZ7Uj_TKF9sAYMg_nBTAes/s400/IMG_5213.JPG" width="267" height="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhky6dWtcB6WfpwbKcrq1_tccF3zc9a-Q5FuBhamtklrP7za2FPhX74s9AQYi9nyJK6jvPJDUmuWJ0fcQTYo4_va_tuA_gLMABMkCi8kCaAPi6hxWOFO7wUfwpzsN7xLlY5t6h6OMF-mKg/s1600/IMG_5233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhky6dWtcB6WfpwbKcrq1_tccF3zc9a-Q5FuBhamtklrP7za2FPhX74s9AQYi9nyJK6jvPJDUmuWJ0fcQTYo4_va_tuA_gLMABMkCi8kCaAPi6hxWOFO7wUfwpzsN7xLlY5t6h6OMF-mKg/s400/IMG_5233.jpg" width="210" height="400" /></a></div><br />
So tonight, I listen to her steady breathing as she sleeps. I am reminded of all that we have experienced in the past two years. And I thank God. For all of it. For every single moment of it. Cherished moments. <br />
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#choosehope<br />
Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-32039031585991485282017-03-25T19:17:00.000-07:002017-03-25T19:17:34.331-07:00Choosing yesYesterday, the China adoption world was rocked by word of the loss of one of our own. Little Ivy Joy was a warrior in the true sense of the word. She was adopted by her amazing family just shy of her 2nd birthday with a very, very broken heart. Ivy sustained surgery after surgery at some of the top hospitals in the country to help fix her heart, including several surgeries at our Boston Children's Hospital. During one of Ivy's surgeries here in Boston, I was able to meet her mom whose very presence radiates His light and love. How lucky Ivy was to have this woman as her mother. Even luckier however, was Ivy's family to have Ivy. She deepened their faith, much like baby Hope has deepened my own faith, and brought such joy. When Ivy was adopted, her family let the world have a glimpse into what it was like to share life with this extraordinary child. Many of us, including my girls, prayed for Ivy when she was in the woods after surgeries. We all prayed praises as Ivy defeated odds and lived. The news of Ivy's unexpected passing has left many of us in the adoption community grieving right along with her shattered family right now. It has left me, once again, considering the power of adoption and life in this world.<br />
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You see, Ivy's family made a choice. They chose yes to a little girl who had a very broken little heart. They chose yes when they could have chosen no. In their choosing yes, the world was able to see the power, hope, and love of our very great God as He worked miracles through this very special warrior. Without her family's yes, Ivy may never have been known to this world. She certainly would not have survived in an orphanage in her condition. The world would not have seen this little child grow and thrive in her family as she did over the past 5 years. The world would have missed so much, if Ivy's family did not choose yes. <br />
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There are so many choices we can make in the course of a day. We can choose yes or no. And some of those choices can have have significant consequences. Life altering consequences. When I said yes to bringing home baby Hope, it was not expected that she would survive. Many times, others have said to me, that they could not have done what I did. I imagine Ivy's mom has likely heard the same. But the truth is, anyone could do what we have done. It just takes a yes instead of a no. That's what it comes down to, really. It is a choice. Yes or no.<br />
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Bringing Hope home was my first experience with saying yes to a situation close to death. I remember the thoughts that ran through my head. Thoughts that this baby deserved to have a family surround her if she were to die. Thoughts that she deserved to be loved for as long or as short as her days on earth are to be. These are truths. These are things that every person deserves. These thoughts overpowered the fears. Because, of course I was afraid. I imagine none of us enjoys going through grief and loss. It is not fun and yes I fear it sometimes. But, it is part of living. Really living.<br />
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Once Hope was in my arms, I remember telling one of my BFF's that I wasn't sure I could survive if something happened to her. Just like I wasn't sure I could survive if anything were to happen to any of my girls. The mere thought of losing any of them is too much to even consider. Because that is what love does. It creates a bond so strong that we don't ever want to lose anyone we love. We wonder how we will get through it. We pray to prolong time here in this world. But, the reality of life is that none of us will live forever on this earth. We receive no guarantee with any child, whether through birth or adoption, for longevity of life. None. Should the thought that we will experience profound loss paralyze any of us from saying yes? Will we let the reality of loss outweigh the gain of joy in this life? Especially with hundreds of thousands of children in orphanages or in foster care who are waiting for a yes? <br />
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Over the past 24 hours, I have thought how much I wish Ivy's time here on earth was longer. I do so wish that. And yet, along with that, I am so grateful that her family chose yes. Yes. Three letters that changed a family and a little girl's life forever. Three letters that changed the course of the world. Yes. Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-46371417503724839552017-03-09T17:40:00.000-08:002017-03-09T17:40:40.382-08:00The big threeIt's a day we weren't supposed to see. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9K6PF6CrSSV-jczR65Rj2-sy_zaLwj97Y_agCxf6hJmDm68y5iTe8qDeusKhKziNmk6NHzKdEfzyOutWvRH84Um9aIBthDUCE2W2ML0JyUY-18yKLCIW17lusaY1Oxhl0fkqae4nr6cc/s1600/DSC_0785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9K6PF6CrSSV-jczR65Rj2-sy_zaLwj97Y_agCxf6hJmDm68y5iTe8qDeusKhKziNmk6NHzKdEfzyOutWvRH84Um9aIBthDUCE2W2ML0JyUY-18yKLCIW17lusaY1Oxhl0fkqae4nr6cc/s320/DSC_0785.JPG" width="320" height="214" /></a></div>My miracle girl. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgahvsP0ljD3-GOpXaalI4AL4aB-q0-rzJMXK6aVjCFGeYFO5mhl3MEF2NGbg4OUF60q7NvLTq3lvBfj01XpYZOjgxN7u8D7-XvrCCXypXcXIDM3fCEbcNqMLl7on8caZBOt9eby7SdYF0/s1600/DSC_0784.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgahvsP0ljD3-GOpXaalI4AL4aB-q0-rzJMXK6aVjCFGeYFO5mhl3MEF2NGbg4OUF60q7NvLTq3lvBfj01XpYZOjgxN7u8D7-XvrCCXypXcXIDM3fCEbcNqMLl7on8caZBOt9eby7SdYF0/s320/DSC_0784.JPG" width="320" height="214" /></a></div>She is now three years old. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYroq4fFmsFAx5UKx7a8uzYayfMtLd6pLVBlcJJsBjlE2K1rrS8qBhcQ1N1fXXRF9u2XxRUUPCPcG7pRCCvPPhp1i115M_rn8nRZ9bY6UR3pfFs4c44e9rkdjKqRbZDtxCNdAPPe_emTA/s1600/DSC_0792.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYroq4fFmsFAx5UKx7a8uzYayfMtLd6pLVBlcJJsBjlE2K1rrS8qBhcQ1N1fXXRF9u2XxRUUPCPcG7pRCCvPPhp1i115M_rn8nRZ9bY6UR3pfFs4c44e9rkdjKqRbZDtxCNdAPPe_emTA/s320/DSC_0792.jpg" width="207" height="320" /></a></div>The little one who, back in 2014, was given only two months to live.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2CtCBhkv-MISJinBWw6reiOs4-HhcEdzSoJsMXCkpDEh9uJN9h9lKZZpzIn11hYvbscJh-Qnnnye0ylN1nxHyOGE3exiSgASUkHfM9F3QKdZQrSJM6iLvtaod5ahldJXe0n7mzffSmpg/s1600/DSC_0788.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2CtCBhkv-MISJinBWw6reiOs4-HhcEdzSoJsMXCkpDEh9uJN9h9lKZZpzIn11hYvbscJh-Qnnnye0ylN1nxHyOGE3exiSgASUkHfM9F3QKdZQrSJM6iLvtaod5ahldJXe0n7mzffSmpg/s320/DSC_0788.jpg" width="273" height="320" /></a></div>She defied the grim prognosis.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNklOdI3wu-7sO40YofFaUHP7pzAqiqxEVtTgfaO_Lf0Fdf-pQ8kYBfvX7ei49pyolLd8HSfhX2INyfn1hb6HJp-zkh5aG1SZpEMYOxcl0fqnNy_deCnXMFOBAmySd-jk_K9J1Ufi30NA/s1600/DSC_0818.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNklOdI3wu-7sO40YofFaUHP7pzAqiqxEVtTgfaO_Lf0Fdf-pQ8kYBfvX7ei49pyolLd8HSfhX2INyfn1hb6HJp-zkh5aG1SZpEMYOxcl0fqnNy_deCnXMFOBAmySd-jk_K9J1Ufi30NA/s320/DSC_0818.jpg" width="266" height="320" /></a></div>She defied the death sentence.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjKnp5GFBgAoj8n-zhcJLucjLt3MgRugrUbllc-Bw63ec8UYr4sRXRnr8il4eZaTdDQjapyRHXJzXDxQeA12FjKobcd7MziSSVguq1EKpARnTsjDS2d2WTuzWPmHuYE7QQ3NT_n4iOnM/s1600/DSC_0796.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXjKnp5GFBgAoj8n-zhcJLucjLt3MgRugrUbllc-Bw63ec8UYr4sRXRnr8il4eZaTdDQjapyRHXJzXDxQeA12FjKobcd7MziSSVguq1EKpARnTsjDS2d2WTuzWPmHuYE7QQ3NT_n4iOnM/s320/DSC_0796.jpg" width="202" height="320" /></a></div>She defied logic.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07l0SxBk5O7uuRc1qfFuRLT9c394FVm_tbwcz1tlecIODt9mx5s7tCkoIB1n0W4r19UOilVeeeVV4qzDsvxjLwOWOGjtqaxNPgySckFEBl9E-dEkGp8KmmFbbmUV91X3YRRRHPvUAvAQ/s1600/DSC_0793.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07l0SxBk5O7uuRc1qfFuRLT9c394FVm_tbwcz1tlecIODt9mx5s7tCkoIB1n0W4r19UOilVeeeVV4qzDsvxjLwOWOGjtqaxNPgySckFEBl9E-dEkGp8KmmFbbmUV91X3YRRRHPvUAvAQ/s320/DSC_0793.jpg" width="229" height="320" /></a></div>She defied human understanding.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQNhkghGx0VeZaKUtrfWwbq68Bw-Ha89b_CazFCD6NCRwLQ_CkoWE5KzLhKWV8xLu0H0LFgMeRqS0b_ur5igBjxfzTHI0BEk409ksuDHnhGQHQSt25L_rTlJdM_lDlj1kCM0X7DhQ5YBI/s1600/DSC_0800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQNhkghGx0VeZaKUtrfWwbq68Bw-Ha89b_CazFCD6NCRwLQ_CkoWE5KzLhKWV8xLu0H0LFgMeRqS0b_ur5igBjxfzTHI0BEk409ksuDHnhGQHQSt25L_rTlJdM_lDlj1kCM0X7DhQ5YBI/s320/DSC_0800.JPG" width="320" height="214" /></a></div>She is alive.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQV45JK-jEMJM6rOFCt50lm47damyqNHXt0H1WymLcBGiGtSxKC4ab8FO1B9FLQEtfs4meaKW7mbVglkVTHC2borFhbhH75_RS2Vui2X6nNzC4Vcxhqgh5HHRApXhk1g2IvI9w1CIQMM/s1600/DSC_0791.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQV45JK-jEMJM6rOFCt50lm47damyqNHXt0H1WymLcBGiGtSxKC4ab8FO1B9FLQEtfs4meaKW7mbVglkVTHC2borFhbhH75_RS2Vui2X6nNzC4Vcxhqgh5HHRApXhk1g2IvI9w1CIQMM/s320/DSC_0791.jpg" width="236" height="320" /></a></div>She is thriving.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdULkgtJJUbgfLkRxhu1Me6IYPmblm8PBkwKsNPauJE-ItpWpEB1khagdC5brsDdTl5-hpwl0QPkJ5zby-Y8QpP_VP3s3WIRDWYVBZiMekE_qJFlmD-ZQ0huSDYoPoVtZBMrwyFxozG5w/s1600/DSC_0797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdULkgtJJUbgfLkRxhu1Me6IYPmblm8PBkwKsNPauJE-ItpWpEB1khagdC5brsDdTl5-hpwl0QPkJ5zby-Y8QpP_VP3s3WIRDWYVBZiMekE_qJFlmD-ZQ0huSDYoPoVtZBMrwyFxozG5w/s320/DSC_0797.JPG" width="320" height="214" /></a></div>She is chosen.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5iAgpueQsSYWl5mQLs0UfqPidcfFxsmzMMPggFBuoSJCvrhk3369pPVj-_-kEm256-EIQhzUpY_GH-KxG9-LvW6Q-eknCwm1Y7rmDejn5oJhq_2NzJRJU4pzvJ4kqCWR3SXoAkhlKlko/s1600/DSC_0783.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5iAgpueQsSYWl5mQLs0UfqPidcfFxsmzMMPggFBuoSJCvrhk3369pPVj-_-kEm256-EIQhzUpY_GH-KxG9-LvW6Q-eknCwm1Y7rmDejn5oJhq_2NzJRJU4pzvJ4kqCWR3SXoAkhlKlko/s320/DSC_0783.JPG" width="320" height="214" /></a></div>She is precious.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3kY38TS_AeZXWSKJgwcE_xbfZ1O3155axkwi4OlzkP6MT9fYHTXDkfxxSHqxBQXw08qxeL3CZp-eJyMlCZ2jc9scFzRDDuX32tafxbg3Gc05PWCbEjjqEJYP7AEO7mDfo9SM6uH1mrE/s1600/DSC_0819.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3kY38TS_AeZXWSKJgwcE_xbfZ1O3155axkwi4OlzkP6MT9fYHTXDkfxxSHqxBQXw08qxeL3CZp-eJyMlCZ2jc9scFzRDDuX32tafxbg3Gc05PWCbEjjqEJYP7AEO7mDfo9SM6uH1mrE/s320/DSC_0819.jpg" width="299" height="320" /></a></div>She is oh, so loved.<br />
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-77680191880413042392016-07-02T07:35:00.001-07:002016-07-02T07:35:14.847-07:00Goodness overflowingThe goodness shown to my family over the past year is just staggering. Seriously. Not only have we been the recipients of goodness beyond measure, but it has continued on and on. Over and over. Tangible things. People are still delivering delicious meals. Several times a week. <br />
A year of mortgage payments given and a friend fundraised enabling payment of other bills. Wonderful hand me downs have come in. Classroom extras paid for, all year long. Shopping sprees for the girls which included new bathing suits. Laundry detergent delivered. Laptop given. Professional family photos taken. School supplies came in. Air conditioner fixed. New flooring installed in living room. Grant given for the girls to go to after school and summer care. Christmas gifts given in overabundance, six months apart. Two GALLONS of salon hair products now occupy our bathroom, a first ever in this household. Diapers and wipes continue to come in. Goodness surrounds us to the brim and then gushes over. Again and again and again. <br />
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Several weeks ago, as I drove to church, I began to panic. I had looked at my bank account and figured out that we have months left to pay our bills. Thoughts raced through mind. Should I try to find work again? If so, who could care for Hope and manage the at least weekly trips to Children's for on-going medical care? Could I work from home? Or part time? Should I sell my condo and find a place to rent with the equity we might have? Which would not be much given that our condo would be sold as an affordable unit to the next lucky buyer. We came home from church, and as we sat at our dinner table I saw a familiar face outside our porch. She held a yellow envelope. And inside it was cash which would almost cover another month of our mortgage. Several days later, another check came from a high school student who decided to give her first ever working check to our family, which completed the mortgage payment. I.am.not.kidding. Then two days later, another check arrived to cover another month of our mortgage. I had not whispered a word of my panic to anyone. Not a word. Even my BFF's never knew what my thoughts were on that Sunday morning. Only God knew. Just God. The same God who works through people. It is just astounding. And a huge reminder that God knows EXACTLY what we need. Always. And the goodness is just overflowing and overflowing. Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-43718395316005907462016-05-25T15:38:00.001-07:002016-05-25T15:38:50.548-07:00Six month liverversary!Six months ago today I walked into the OR at Boston Children's Hospital holding my youngest daughter. I held her hand as they placed the mask on her face waiting until she fell asleep before leaving. Whispering that it was ok, that I loved her and would see her when she woke up. That her new hero liver had arrived and she was in good hands. As I left that OR to begin the 10 hour wait for the surgery to be completed, I said prayers of thanksgiving that the day had arrived. That she had made it. That her miracle was literally unfolding before my eyes. <br />
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Entering the family waiting room on the third floor I saw eyes and faces that mirrored my own. Fear, joy, thanksgiving, hope. Over the hours, families began to dissipate, until late afternoon when there were just two of us left. The family sitting next to me was awaiting the completion of their son's brain surgery. A procedure to remove half of his brain in hopes of curing the deadly seizures that were racking his body day in and day out. We both experienced enormous sighs of relief when our children were finished around the same time. And were taken to the same ICU where we would rejoice at our mutual surgery successes. His mom and I checked in on each other until we were both moved to the regular floor on the same day several days later. It was nice to have someone who knew the exact emotions I felt, at times without either of us even saying a word.<br />
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Hope's team has characterized her post transplant course as "rough". They have met and decided that due to all of her complications we are not to go to do volunteer orphanage work in China this summer as we had hoped. Just this week, Hope's liver function tests are again worse. We are back to weekly labs under a very careful eye of our team. Thankfully, they were able to rule out PTLD in her tonsils and adenoids this week, a huge mercy. That said, PTLD continues to be a real risk and we are having bimonthly checks of her lymph nodes, which is one of the primary spots of manifestation. There are times when the worry tries to sneak in, and I must purposefully focus on Him and live in our now. <br />
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Looking at my baby girl, no one would ever suspect that this battle is being waged in her body. She is so happy. She loves life and energetically explores and interacts without a care in the world. She exudes joy and draws people in. She is a miracle, through and through. A miracle for the world to see. We cherish the gift of life our donor has given to my precious baby, and take not a second for granted. Though our "rough course" continues without any end in sight, I would not change a single minute of it. She is worth it. We are living life. And we are so grateful to be able to live it. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3pmQUL4L2VCJS7DR290WNCV8lVsEWrh75BhpYTUtFtuaVG_3zinfsS0nEIhKdvHKusCKZ1PWbVa9tFNWWs1NN2vTF_78kBIh8biOxgFHGpFS5iVLBRRkuFeZtorWbvtacEtCc7l7QD0/s1600/DSC_0691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3pmQUL4L2VCJS7DR290WNCV8lVsEWrh75BhpYTUtFtuaVG_3zinfsS0nEIhKdvHKusCKZ1PWbVa9tFNWWs1NN2vTF_78kBIh8biOxgFHGpFS5iVLBRRkuFeZtorWbvtacEtCc7l7QD0/s320/DSC_0691.jpg" /></a></div>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-34425475357475506802016-05-17T19:06:00.001-07:002016-05-17T19:06:20.145-07:00Yes in HopePeople should always come first. Before anything else. That is my hope to teach my children. Which is not an easy task in today's world when there are so many other distractions and the message the world sends is to ensure self comfort and a big nest egg. I can be just as easily distracted thinking about the things of this world, whether that is a 3 bedroom instead of our 2 bedroom home, a college education or weddings for my children, or a vacation. However, I know I am not to put my priorities in these things, so I try not to. And it is hard. <br />
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I learned a few months ago that orphanages are desperately awaiting our teachings. And that an orphanage with perhaps some of the poorest of poor conditions has asked us to come. It's a place we have never been, with over 300 children in care. As I thought about this and considered the last year of my life, I think many will feel I would be more than justified in saying no. I can actually hear the encouragement to say no. Perhaps some would even beg me to say no. The excuses I could provide would be valid....I have a child who has had a liver transplant and is immune compromised, I am unable to work right now and we are down to our final less than a year's worth of mortgage payment savings, I have already done "enough". As I dig deeper into those excuses, I find that all of them propose putting something else before people who wait for help, whether that be fear, money, or selfishness. People who are in need. People who are in need of skills and ideas that can be shared. People who need to know that they are loved and valued because they exist in this world. I would be a hypocrite to want to teach my children that people come before everything and then turn around and say no. So, we say yes being fully afraid. <br />
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It is easy to fall into the trap of believing that someone else will step up. That someone else will say yes. That someone else will go. That someone else is better equipped. That someone else has more skill. That someone else should do it....<br />
These thoughts may lead to a type of stagnation, with no movement forward and no help given. So I am trying to teach my children to avoid this trap and say yes despite our shortcomings.<br />
<br />
When we were going through Hope's transplant evaluation, time and time again we were told the whole purpose of organ transplant for a slowly dying child was to live. To give the chance of living. Not to give the chance of living in panic. Not to wait in fear for rejection or lymphoma. But to live. Live now. So we say yes to living in today. <br />
<br />
Today, we prepare. Today, we hope. Today, we say "send us, we will go". Today, we say "yes, we are willing to be present for people". Today, we are willing to be hands and feet. Today, we say yes. Because people always come first. If I can teach my children this, there will be no better nest egg to leave them with. <br />
Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-78465387971444761402016-05-07T09:14:00.000-07:002016-05-07T09:24:04.263-07:00A year ago...May 7, 2015<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6z9u2PMYz-yfQRRXSW4Or8DiiyGAE4GmEAGWFp5Mj-gdNdHLnC-_GqEnBuTue4MxovaGzf_mBmUQt0Qgw5LDYLCjIIVxwbJ30kMDH8IzOOpb4HfMTgAa2pQ_wGtMwuoU0V2Zh2kpFMEo/s1600/DSC_0268.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6z9u2PMYz-yfQRRXSW4Or8DiiyGAE4GmEAGWFp5Mj-gdNdHLnC-_GqEnBuTue4MxovaGzf_mBmUQt0Qgw5LDYLCjIIVxwbJ30kMDH8IzOOpb4HfMTgAa2pQ_wGtMwuoU0V2Zh2kpFMEo/s320/DSC_0268.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5OdBNAoEiJ94IQJudw-65oO4VYg-v8vb0j_of2oXTDVxjFvhE6tQGjhWWu0e8j6fNNQPHo4JgdvGZDwCAVobXESdkENabV5zZ7KTZiwASFthVryw6WEE3_yHYTllJjSO6I5Rs4YM4aIU/s1600/DSC_0266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5OdBNAoEiJ94IQJudw-65oO4VYg-v8vb0j_of2oXTDVxjFvhE6tQGjhWWu0e8j6fNNQPHo4JgdvGZDwCAVobXESdkENabV5zZ7KTZiwASFthVryw6WEE3_yHYTllJjSO6I5Rs4YM4aIU/s320/DSC_0266.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJEHTJ3zgb8oTISEQ0YXd8fankyNeSb89VVIZROgkK0fFuLzDsl_bldsndHD8qoIvgU57Uq_gi_bqQTaJ2dxir0U7vNinLgv8Ra3ManZ7hv2OSUR2nQBb7Mn4NrIdmvVzHiuoRBBSGsM4/s1600/IMG_1750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJEHTJ3zgb8oTISEQ0YXd8fankyNeSb89VVIZROgkK0fFuLzDsl_bldsndHD8qoIvgU57Uq_gi_bqQTaJ2dxir0U7vNinLgv8Ra3ManZ7hv2OSUR2nQBb7Mn4NrIdmvVzHiuoRBBSGsM4/s320/IMG_1750.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp4QP1TuEjhrXKbCtsPbVWLzC0baCdNyCTUxE9_6qs-PGrSsbcIkK5nbjobGEAgfFDUtYUK9_lGQVfZRMehxXuFPO9Byly9BrTN5MVB1Zk78-1viW1-yIG2KfPRTIxPdaCF9oax1-a5Wg/s1600/IMG_1647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp4QP1TuEjhrXKbCtsPbVWLzC0baCdNyCTUxE9_6qs-PGrSsbcIkK5nbjobGEAgfFDUtYUK9_lGQVfZRMehxXuFPO9Byly9BrTN5MVB1Zk78-1viW1-yIG2KfPRTIxPdaCF9oax1-a5Wg/s320/IMG_1647.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1V99zZFCqHmmMWTuR0aSEgoO8kBEhbP6Twef3HOaP4MxREK785Xra1OWOynPQEr641IoQPgIH5RX3FI8_4Vnpzv_g-4Jnc-w9XgVsx8R0LSIamJqujwFrwPdG2qlMikOS8C9q6olvJ2E/s1600/IMG_1649.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1V99zZFCqHmmMWTuR0aSEgoO8kBEhbP6Twef3HOaP4MxREK785Xra1OWOynPQEr641IoQPgIH5RX3FI8_4Vnpzv_g-4Jnc-w9XgVsx8R0LSIamJqujwFrwPdG2qlMikOS8C9q6olvJ2E/s320/IMG_1649.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-qBq1iBdfGi742USEMJTmYHQ3LCwJC6h7btWXj3M0F__jkuR4UCqDisLen58crZBHfWs6B23-18jwuUV0F5WNmIKalJ-HVgRk4gWZA5PdSHqvvPXp488uMPdyTGSfU5Mj6Xo1CLscOo/s1600/IMG_1650.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-qBq1iBdfGi742USEMJTmYHQ3LCwJC6h7btWXj3M0F__jkuR4UCqDisLen58crZBHfWs6B23-18jwuUV0F5WNmIKalJ-HVgRk4gWZA5PdSHqvvPXp488uMPdyTGSfU5Mj6Xo1CLscOo/s320/IMG_1650.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHC0GtumA7xwM5KdjuHFIBrP-mSLrIR0jOORRSd1cv-JxdB5mKA1MT51JMVqZjHMZMZ8yB8Ro18OVEv2jd9tNuPRUyR7qxoHUVC3XBXMKvTu1GrsP0G6XxsTpG40fn9IHMGrTdZgJRMPo/s1600/IMG_1652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHC0GtumA7xwM5KdjuHFIBrP-mSLrIR0jOORRSd1cv-JxdB5mKA1MT51JMVqZjHMZMZ8yB8Ro18OVEv2jd9tNuPRUyR7qxoHUVC3XBXMKvTu1GrsP0G6XxsTpG40fn9IHMGrTdZgJRMPo/s320/IMG_1652.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5OZzcgDJdThDRSGiSgOfCCef-vPqVLrK1Fw0tYXJZcgqAKJD78AzeLZYqjjnfNtW20_Zo_FBJoOm7UGXqn8wNaCeY_87mCcgSGPlKihkiFEt1ifJJKBzi5KL9ZimvaI7XcTWYRY-f0tU/s1600/DSC_0274.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5OZzcgDJdThDRSGiSgOfCCef-vPqVLrK1Fw0tYXJZcgqAKJD78AzeLZYqjjnfNtW20_Zo_FBJoOm7UGXqn8wNaCeY_87mCcgSGPlKihkiFEt1ifJJKBzi5KL9ZimvaI7XcTWYRY-f0tU/s320/DSC_0274.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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May 7, 2016<br />
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Sometimes there are just no words.... #only.God #choosehope #miracleCindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-91316663935247344982016-05-01T17:39:00.000-07:002016-05-01T17:39:46.076-07:00Heading to a year of Hope!One year ago today, the shocking, unfathomable, jaw dropping word was uttered. Yes. China said YES. Yes! Yes, I could become the mother to baby Hope. For however long she had to live. To say that day was surreal would be an understatement. Initially I was in disbelief. The odds were so stacked against this happening. How.did.this.happen?!? How was she still alive at 13 months old?!? Only.God. There is no other logical explanation. As the reality began to settle in, my heart leapt with a sweet combination of joy and fear. And franticness, if that is even a word. There was so much I needed to do. I needed to tell my parents. I needed to tell my employer. I needed advice from the palliative care team. I needed to find flights. I needed to get to China. Five days later, I would be on that plane to travel half way around the world to receive a baby so sick that I, along with others, was not sure she would make it out of China alive. All because China said yes on this day one year ago.<br />
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So much has happened over the past year that it is staggering. As I look back to photos of Hope's first days as my daughter, it is shocking to me to see just how sick she was at that time. She was so sick. So, so sick. It is no wonder the US consulate issued a same day visa, which almost never happens; and we were asked to leave the plane to come home home three times. Somehow, my eyes were protected from truly seeing the reality. Someone at our beloved pediatrician's office said that I was blinded by love. Protected, in a way, so that I was able to do what needed to be done. I think she is right. He protected my mama's heart in a way that I would be able to face the task at hand. Otherwise, I may have been too scared to proceed.<br />
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There have been so many valuable lessons learned over the past year. A year which has been filled with some of the most joy filled moments of my entire life. It has also been filled with some hard moments of struggle. How can moments which take a breath away with such beauty and joy be intermingled with such struggle? Because. Because that is the essence of life and living to the fullest in this beautiful, broken, world. There will be times of sweetness so palpable that the moment is to be savored forever, and there will be times of pain that there is a wish to seek relief of dissipating immediately. Living life in this past year, I have come to believe that joys will always be intermixed with moments of hard. The hard does not dismiss the joy, nor does the joy negate the hard. There is just coexistence. My task, I think, is to continue to just be in it, learn what I need to learn from it, and focus on what I should be focusing on. <br />
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I have so many choices, I am learning. Choices to see the mercies, knowing they are always there. Choices to be in the present. Choices to find joy. Choices to laugh. Choices to cherish memories and understand that all seasons will come to an end. Choices to be grateful. Choices to forgive and ask for forgiveness. Choices to listen. Choices to reach out of the comfort zone. Choices to see goodness. Choices to ask for and accept help. Choices to take risks. Choices to always put people over things. Choices to recognize that this life is but a blink, and every moment counts. Choices to say yes to "impossible" ideas for kingdom building. Choices to offer help. Choices to try to make the world a little better than it was found. Choices to live life to the fullest. Choices to see the people in life as the greatest gifts. Choices to choose Hope. <br />
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So many times it has been said that my response to China's yes a year ago has saved Hope's life. While I don't discount that God performed a major miracle for Hope, one where I was gifted the role of her mother, the reality is, that response has also saved mine. I have learned and continue to learn so much. My faith has deepened and strengthened beyond measure. I am changed and know He will continue to work in and through me. What a year. I wouldn't trade it for the world. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXEpPcRS_qnnq8LR59lkwhUCwGLkI4GpsIRn-S3PhVXsUIVyWNEbwwbVZ4jQUD4DpwfA6Dme5xbY2qHqjypjjF52iJ2_qdFkw564hpueJSYAl3zhUx99EJpyPamZ12ck7T-EyIvJ55Tro/s1600/IMG_1731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXEpPcRS_qnnq8LR59lkwhUCwGLkI4GpsIRn-S3PhVXsUIVyWNEbwwbVZ4jQUD4DpwfA6Dme5xbY2qHqjypjjF52iJ2_qdFkw564hpueJSYAl3zhUx99EJpyPamZ12ck7T-EyIvJ55Tro/s320/IMG_1731.jpg" /></a></div>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-54624329724207368032016-04-09T16:42:00.002-07:002016-04-09T16:42:36.354-07:00The joy stealerWorry is a joy stealer. I know this, because I have been living this for the past few weeks. As baby Hope's liver function tests have been trending upwards into abnormal range again, naturally, I began to worry. Endlessly. I began to question why. I began to wonder what was going on inside of her tiny, growing, and perfectly imperfect body. The fear has bordered on consuming. Actually, it has become consuming.<br />
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Hope is still on steroids and has been since the rejection beast was diagnosed back in January. Our team uses a long term taper after high dose steroids to gradually wean away in hopes of keeping the rejection at bay. Her prograf dose (antirejection medication) is increased to a high level in order to give more assurance of taming the beast. All seemed to be progressing nicely. Her labs were normal. We decided to plan a much needed road trip to our favorite place on the planet, to decompress and relax as a family after a long year. Our team gave us their blessing to go, as long as things remained stable...<br />
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Hope had a liver biopsy last week to further confirm that she is in rejection again. Her team was feeling confident that rejection is what we were looking at given her abnormal liver tests. They explained we would do another high dose steroids by IV in the hospital, and add a second medication to help fight along with the prograf, since Hope cannot continue to remain on steroids long term. Steroids are too dangerous. The team hoped we could do the steroids, add a second daily medication, and then be on our way for our road trip. Only now, she has been anemic. Her blood clot time is slightly elevated. And her Epstein Barr viral load (EBV) is not decreasing. Instead of getting a call for hospital admission the day following biopsy, our team called to say the results were still pending. Yesterday, they explained that yes, she does have mild rejection again, but they are also concerned that she has Epstein Barr hepatitis along with it. And the biopsy results for the hepatitis would not be ready until last night. This time, it is not a case of if she has EBV hepatitis, but how severe it is. Initially, they decided that a plan would be made today about treatment course. A few hours later, they called with a new plan. Because having both rejection and hepatitis is very complicated and delicate to treat, they decided that rather than have only two of Hope's doctors decide how to proceed they would rather have all of her doctors weigh in. That speaks volumes as the two doctors who would have made the decision include her head surgeon and one of the amazing liver doctors on our team. <br />
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Having both EBV hepatitis and rejection is a difficult place to be in. Treating EBV hepatitis includes lowering her dose of Prograf, giving antiviral, and IV immune boosters. Treating rejection includes further suppression of her immune system. These are completely opposite, incompatible treatment plans. Hope's team will decide which is more pressing to treat. By treating rejection, her EBV could ravage her body causing the dreaded PTLD (post transplant lymphoproliferative disorder which includes lymphoma). By treating EBV, her rejection could worsen and she could lose the very organ which has saved her life. It has become easy to fall into the slippery slope of constant worry. <br />
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Last night, as my BFF and I texted at 2:00 am, I realized that the worry was stealing my joy. Because I am allowing it to. The choice is mine. The reality is that there is no control over viruses which get into little bodies and replicate. There is nothing I can do to change the fact that Hope has these two battles going on inside her beautiful hero liver. Channeling my energy into something I cannot control is futile, and will suck me dry. My task, I think, is to put the worry aside. I know this is not easy. I am not a superhero or a saint. I am just an ordinary girl serving an extraordinary God. A God who continues to shower me with mercies and is patient with me as I learn and fail. So I will choose to try to put the worry aside. It is a choice I can make and put effort into. Instead of keeping my focus on the worry, I can keep my focus on the gift of today. The joy in today. The hope in today. And whether the time is short or long, I will treasure each and every moment I get with my sweet baby girl.<br />
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-29678872442452781942016-03-09T19:05:00.000-08:002016-03-09T19:08:24.527-08:00Two years ago....Two years ago a precious baby girl entered the world.<br />
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She would go on to defy all odds.<br />
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She would go on to collect the hearts of those who know her.<br />
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She would go on to show that love is worth the risk.<br />
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How I hope and pray that her first mother knows her baby daughter is alive. <br />
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That there was hope. <br />
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That she will always be cherished forever.<br />
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And that her baby girl has changed the world for the better.<br />
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-67407816358893716852016-02-28T06:31:00.000-08:002016-03-01T07:06:22.115-08:00Knowing Hope IncWhen I was a 20 something year old, my second job as a pediatric OT was working in my state's early intervention system. I would work there for a year, then went back for another consecutive 17 years after a year hiatus to experience life down south. Working there brought many incredibly meaningful relationships, including one which would impact my life forever. It was there that I met someone who would become one of my BFF's. My trusted and constant friend. My soul sister.<br />
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Over the years I would discover my friend and I shared the same heart for orphans. She began traveling to Russia, Siberia, and then China to volunteer in orphanages. I traveled back to China to volunteer in orphanages. Our skills as pediatric therapist and special educator were in desperate need. Orphanages around the world were full of children with medical and special needs. The caregivers needed partners to know how to best care for these children. Through our conversations and shared experiences, the idea for Knowing Hope Inc. was born. We envisioned continued outreach to orphanages through teaching and training. We would empower those "on the ground" with the skills they needed. As I continued to volunteer in China, the thirst for this knowledge grew and grew. We were asked if our teachings were government sponsored. We were were asked when we would be coming back. Invitations grew. The conference rooms were overfull. People were turned away as we needed larger space. And the word began to leak out into the community where parents, raising their children with medical and special needs, would attend. Hope was needed, and it was clear that somehow, through us, it was being given. It was given by partnering alongside with those who do the real work. The need was shown and clear. Trust had been built in an area where trust is rarely given. More needed to be done.<br />
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The purpose of Knowing Hope Inc is threefold: to provide education and training to those caring for children with medical and special needs; to provide palliative care/hospice services to the sickest of children; and to enable impoverished families to receive the support they need to obtain necessary medical care in order for children to remain in families. These purposes will allow us to serve our mission, which is to live to make a difference in the lives of orphaned and impoverished children by showing transformative compassion and care.<br />
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This past year has been a huge year of change, but one thing that has not changed was the desire to continue work that has been started. A year ago, Knowing Hope Inc was incorporated in the state of Massachusetts. This week, Knowing Hope Inc has been recognized as a 501(c)(3) by the IRS. Knowing Hope is officially a non profit. Dear, dear friends who have journeyed to China with us several times and led a team to China last year worked tirelessly on bylaws. We are now working fervently to get the logistics done such as get our website up and running, and are humbled by those who are asking how help can be given.<br />
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As I think back to all that has happened over the past 20 years, I am in awe of how it has all been unfolding. Our God has been in every single detail, each step of the way. He knew my soul sister and I, along with our dear friends, would make this happen. It is amazing to think of how each experience has been woven together to bring forth this very moment. <br />
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There is much to be done. Human lives are at stake. Life is way too short and in a blink time is gone. Live to make a difference. Little ones are counting on it. <br />
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Knowing Hope Inc<br />
PO Box 72<br />
Andover, MA 01810<br />
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-63608376962566659402016-02-03T15:01:00.001-08:002016-02-03T15:01:03.987-08:00For 28 Days of Hearts...CHD awareness monthIt is better to be beautiful on the inside than it is on the outside. That was the theme of a fable my 11 year old chose to write for a recent school assignment. Oh, how I love her heart. Her beautiful, gorgeous heart. <br />
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Lianna is known by many to be wise beyond her age. She is my sensitive one. Her heart feels things strongly and she speaks from it. She always has. When Lianna was born in China in 2004, we were told she was very, very sick. She entered the orphanage being the size of a kitten. She had fresh IV marks indicating that her biological family loved her very much and sought treatment for their ailing daughter. Health care in the rural village area of China where she was born is rough. It is unclear if a congenital heart defect would even have been detected. Clearly she was sick and unable to keep fluid down. She was not growing. She was teeny tiny. And she could hardly open her beautiful brown eyes.<br />
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By the time we met her, she was 14 months old and had defied the odds of remaining alive as an orphan with an untreated Congenital Heart Condition (CHD). Specifically, a ventricular septal defect (VSD), patent foramen ovale (PFO), and aortic spectum (something her US doctors have yet to determine the meaning of). She was incredibly weak. She was unable to sit up by herself. Her head was sweaty. She gazed deeply at my first daughter and I as we played in the same baby room my eldest daughter had spent the first 9 months of her life in. One of the nannies plopped her into my lap and my daughter stroked her head. We were told she was waiting for surgery. We were told that they hoped she would have that surgery soon. I had no idea that the very first orphanage volunteer experience would introduce me to the orphan who would become my second daughter.<br />
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Two months after my eldest daughter and I spent a day loving on the orphans in her former orphanage, we learned that the baby with the big brown eyes, the baby who sat in my lap and seemed to beg me not to move her, the baby with the CHD who was frail and weak and sick, had had a successful heart surgery. She would be placed for adoption. Would I want to pursue adopting her? The paperwork race began and I took the leap of faith. The net appeared, just as the wise adoption coordinator said it would. She would come home shortly after turning 2, almost a year to the day when I first met her.<br />
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Before adopting my beautiful girl, heart disease had always scared me. Maybe, it's because my own heart was broken. Not in the literal sense, but because I failed to see the beauty of living in the here and now. I had clung to the future, and wanted those future plans to come true. I wanted guarantees of a long life. I had always thought I wanted close to "perfection", erroneously thinking that it would ensure the guarantee. I wanted something that is not guaranteed to any of us, whether born with congenital heart disease or not. The doctors at Boston Children's Hospital have said that Lianna's heart surgery was done exceptionally well. "It was as if it was done here", I was told. Currently she is monitored for a mitral valve regurgitation, which has been stable for several years. Heart disease is not as scary anymore. We are living our lives and she continues to teach me lessons I need to learn. <br />
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My heart girl reminds me to live in the present while looking with the heart, because her heart is that beautiful. She looks with her gorgeous heart each and every day. She finds the beauty in all people, young and old, strong or weak, special need or not, homeless or homeowner. She seems to see that true beauty that is found in all imperfect people. A true beauty that is only found on the inside. And she radiates that same beauty for all the world to see. How lucky am I to be her mother. <br />
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-17372360099989867752016-01-18T09:43:00.000-08:002016-01-18T09:43:20.751-08:00Anchor of HopeWaiting.<br />
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Waiting is so hard. Overall, I tend to be a pretty patient person. However, there are times when that myth of myself is shattered. The adoption of each of my daughters entailed so much wait. It.was.agonizing. And now, I seem to be in a period of waiting again. There is so much waiting. Waiting for lab results. Waiting for team thoughts on those results. Waiting for congestion to clear enough so biopsy can happen. <br />
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Then, there will be waiting for biopsy results. Waiting for treatment plan. Waiting for immunosuppresion to lessen so we can "re-enter living". Waiting for the dark times and struggle to end. Waiting for the exhaustion to fade. Waiting for..... Waiting for night. Waiting for morning. Always, always waiting. And I realize, I am falling into the trap. Falling deep into the trap of believing that somehow meaningful life exists on the other side of the waiting. It's the trap that prevents me from living fully in the moment. It prevents me from living fully in the waiting. Because waiting is HARD. And waiting in hard times is even harder. It requires discipline. It requires letting go of the worry and desire to control the outcomes. It requires trust in God that the plan for my life is unfolding as it is meant to be. It requires faith that regardless of the biopsy results He will give mercies. It requires the realization that I am missing out on the mercies of the moment if I am constantly consumed by what is to come.<br />
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Hope's liver labs are the lowest they have been in the past 5 weeks. The plan for her has changed several times over the past week. Her team will see what tomorrow's labs show, and plan again accordingly. Parenting Hope is teaching me to be patient while simultaneously remove my focus from the next thing to come. She is teaching me to live in the constant waiting. She is teaching me to focus and just live. She teaching me there are too many uncertainties to place plans, hopes, or dreams on tomorrow. Those uncertainties can unravel me. So instead, she is teaching me that in the here and now is an anchor. The anchor of God will hold me steady if I let Him. He will hold me in the right now of today. I can choose. I can choose to become caught up in the possibilities of tomorrow, or I can choose to see the now in this very moment. <br />
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I have so much to learn. So, so, much. Life is whirling by so quickly. If I don't stop and breathe in the moment, I will miss it. I will miss the smallness of the hands which clutch onto mine. I will miss the gentle curves of their faces. I will miss the questions. I will miss the laughter. I will miss the tears. I will miss that they want my attention now. I will miss seeing how light comes from darkness. I will miss the mercies. I will miss being a part of the now that my girls are part of. I will miss it all. And I will miss the anchor which is oh so patient with me as I learn and holds me steady through it all.<br />
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-35930284681339718572016-01-08T14:10:00.000-08:002016-01-08T14:10:08.718-08:00Hope and the beastThe.Beast.<br />
That is what rejection was referred to yesterday by a friend of mine as we chatted about life, and I shared my fears about the cause of Hope's recent rising liver values. <br />
The beast.<br />
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Last night I learned that Hope's team is also sharing the same concerns about her rising liver values. As soon as I heard our NP's voice, her concern and disappointment was palpable. The values were high. Again. A biopsy of her liver will be scheduled. Because rejection is serious. Serious enough that when her numbers came back high on Tuesday they wanted her back for labs again on Thursday. Serious enough that our NP said they hope to have the biopsy scheduled later today for next Tuesday. <br />
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Hope's little body is doing what it has been designed to do. It recognizes something as foreign, and begins a fight against it. Now there is a battle being waged. She has had three different medications to help prevent the rejection beast. She takes her tacrolimus/prograf twice daily without fail. She loves this medication, and loses absolutely none. This week, her labs showed her tacrolimus level was high. Her liver numbers should be lower. Not rising. And so, the process was explained to me by our NP. Biopsy to confirm rejection. Admit to the hospital for high dose IV steroids to hopefully stop the rejection. Discharge home with oral steroids. All while continuing the twice a day tacrolimus. Her immune system will be depleted. Again. We will be under strict precautions for isolation. Again. And to top it all off there was a study published yesterday in the Journal of the American Medical Association discussing the increased incidence of cancer deaths among patients (especially pediatric patients) with solid organ transplants, likely impacted due to immune suppression. <br />
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Needless to say, this news was not what I wanted to hear. As I drove home from transfusion day with Hope snuggled happily in her car seat and her two older sisters now looking pink sitting behind her, I wanted to get away. I wanted to sit with my daughters on a warm beach, feeling the soft sand and listening to their giggles as they splashed around in water. Without a care in the world. THAT is where I wanted to be. Not prepping for yet another anesthesia procedure and inpatient stay. Not preparing for the horrible personality changes, albeit temporary, that occurs with a child on steroids. I wanted my happy place. This was just too hard to face the reality that my baby girl is going through. She has already been through the unimaginable in her short 21 months of life. Rejection impacts about 20% of all liver transplant recipients. Of that 20%, there are 5% for whom the IV steroids will not work. The BEAST.<br />
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And this morning I woke up with the weight of all of this. And, as I drank my morning tea and did some reading I realized I completely forgot. I just forgot. I forgot about the mercies. <br />
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My morning devotional reading was about the story of Moses. Moses is obedient to God's plan, and goes to Egypt to deliver the Israelites. When things get harder instead of easier, Moses begins to question God. The line "If I just follow God's plan, everything should go smoothly, right", struck me. In no way was this ever promised. Being obedient to God and following His plan does not bring easy. That was never part of the deal. As I continued to read, I was reminded to draw close to God in confidence, so I could find MERCY and favor. There it was. My reminder. To look for the mercies. <br />
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I forgot. But I was reminded by a good, good God. <br />
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We may be facing the beast, but our God is with us. And He will send mercies. Like our amazing, amazing medical team. The team who clearly love my girl. This was so evident in the NP's voice as she delivered the news of the probable rejection. We have a team who will be with us and they will use their knowledge to do the best they can for Hope. We have the nurses on 10 South. Oh, those nurses. We have experienced some of our hardest days under their care, and they are gifts. The thought of seeing some of our favorites again makes the news of rejection easier to take. We will have the clinical assistants, like T, who always manages to bring a smile to Hope's face. Perhaps it is because he accidentally got some of her ascites fluid in his mouth. Yep, in his mouth, as he was emptying her drain. He never even reacted in other than a laugh. T is a gem. We will get to see him again. Our community is already rallying. Encouragement has been pouring in. And one of the biggest mercies of all is that the probable rejection beast was caught early and my baby girl is alive to fight the beast. She is ALIVE. I now have online friends in the liver world who would likely do anything to have their children still living, even if it means fighting rejection. Hope is here. And we will face this. <br />
Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-16926518839116058992016-01-06T10:35:00.000-08:002016-01-06T10:35:50.850-08:00Walking toward HopeEight months ago I would be boarding that plane to bring Hope home. I am not sure the english dictionary has the correct vocabulary word to express the fear I had. I had absolutely no doubt that getting on that plane was what I was meant to do. And I would do it, no matter how panicked I was. But the words in my head would have arguments with each other. Literally. "What are you doing" would be met with "doing exactly what you are supposed to do". Back and forth. Over and over. I think it was the unknowns and self doubt that caused the most fear. Which led to more conversations in my mind "sure you are meant to do it, but can you handle it?" "you know, this is going to be ridiculously hard", and "what happens if....". Again, over and over. I suppose in many ways the fear could be easily paralyzing. The fear could create a roadblock to doing what I knew I was being called to do. Some may even have said that walking away could be justified. Maybe it would just be "too hard". <br />
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So I did it afraid. That night eight months ago, as we headed to the airport, we were given a ride by a dear friend of mine who made me laugh. She is naturally just a fun person. Easy to talk to. And she could tell the best stories. As I listened to her and we caught up, I laughed and laughed. For moments at a time, I would forget how afraid I was. Talk about a mercy. Such.a.mercy. By the time we got into the airport and through security to our gate those feelings of fear crept up again in full force. This was it. There would be no looking back. We were going to China, where we would receive Hope. I think it was there, at that gate, that I realized that there would also be no looking forward. No looking back and no looking forward. Only looking at the hear and now. Only looking at the present. And for moments, peace began to ensue. Just as it did during that car ride to the airport when I was fully present and living in the moment. <br />
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Hope truly lives in the moment. She has a zest for life that is just palpable. She is such a happy baby. So content. Despite all that she has been through and endured, she loves living. She is my hero. Hope reminds me every day to try to bask in the moment and allow it to remain untainted by the "what ifs" of tomorrow. <br />
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Six weeks ago she lay in an OR receiving her gift of life. Today, she lives. Today, I live. Today, we live.<br />
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Choose Hope.<br />
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-39677612232714115952015-12-23T11:40:00.000-08:002015-12-23T11:40:24.713-08:00Love in AbundanceThe year 2015 is certainly going to go down as miraculous. Truly.Miraculous. As I reflect back to all that has happened in the past year, my jaw just drops. Never, in a million gazillion years, would I EVER have predicted that I would be where I am right now. <br />
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I now have 5 daughters. FIVE. Five amazing blessings from the place on the planet where my heart stays. Five girls, from age 14 to age 1. With Hope, I knew I was taking a huge leap of faith. Over and over the words "too late" were muttered. She was not expected to survive. We were asked to disembark the plane (three times) before take off for home because she looked that sick and the flight crew panicked her possible death would be on their hands. We did not budge. I would not budge. The PACT team at Dana Farber/Children's Hospital had prepared me for that moment. I had a letter planned. My baby girl would not leave my arms. And with odds stacked against her, she not only survived, she began to thrive. Her saggy skin began to develop some flesh under it. She began to understand that she would never be alone in her suffering again. She started playing. She was listed for transplant and received her hero liver four months later. She is now expected to live a full life. I think back to all of this, and hear the words "too late" spoken by both Chinese and American doctors. I understand those words, because they were logical words. Hope defied all logic and human understanding. Her whole story is so extraordinarily miraculous. That is the only explanation.<br />
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As if the miracle of Hope's life and story were not enough, the miracles continue. It has now been eight months since I have been able to work. There has been no income since the first week of May. I cannot collect unemployment and do not receive SSI. And yet, ALL of our bills have been paid. Every.single.month. Somehow, the perfect amount is given to provide. Since May, meals and groceries have come in. Delicious meals, many home cooked. Mountains of food came in throughout the transplant hospital stay. The parking of my car at the hospital during inpatient stays has been paid for. Upon hearing that Hope and I were in the emergency room waiting to be admitted last Saturday, a dear friend quickly dropped everything to surprise us and be present. We had wonderful visitors during hospitalizations, making the time seem to fly by. The words "what do you need" are frequently spoken. Care packages came in. New tires for my car were paid for. Clothing has come in. School supplies for the girls came in. A new chromebook was given for schoolwork. A new phone was given to me by a dear friend so that there would be no unreliability, and a new laptop was given for future work in China. A dear friend donated her time and services to take the most exquisite family photos. My condo was cleaned again and again. A room mother for one of the girls has paid for all of the extras needed in her classroom. She has taken my girl under her wing and took video of my daughter when I could not be at the school for a performance. Rides were provided. Extras at the girls' after school program were provided for, so that they could partake in the gingerbread decorating. Our after school program became elves and delivered box after box of Christmas gifts for the girls, so that I could "relax and just enjoy". Gas cards and grocery store gift cards were donated. Dear friends excitedly shopped for stocking stuffers, apparently thinking we all have mega stockings. Our church family created a DVD recording of the church service to "bring church to us" in this time of isolation due to Hope's immunosuppression. Our pediatrician has supported and personally called to check in with me when we were hospitalized (this, in addition to calling the team to get the most accurate medical update). The pediatrician's office was giddy with excitement to see my baby girl after transplant. Two of my most cherished people continue to drop everything to be present for me and my girls whenever needed, always with smiling eyes and hearts. The rally cry of "choose HOPE" has become a reality as people choose to find the ultimate hope in all circumstances. Our people near and far expressed their love and care for us through prayer, texts, emails, messages, and calls. Those messages of love are *treasured* and helped us to get through some of the hard days. The thoughtfulness and kindness is just astounding. It.IS.Miraculous. <br />
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One of the biggest lessons I have been reminded of is the gift of people. The people in our lives and the time we have with them is the best gift in life. The best. I have known that, but now really know. This has been the theme of the past year. My family was given the gift of an incredibly sick baby girl who helped show us just how precious that time with people is. She has helped me to live in the moment rather than to live in the future. We learned who our true community is, and just how loved we are. I could never fully express the sincere gratitude I have in my heart for my community, my village. My village who provides us with love in abundance. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAx3rBIeoFx_m9v9ams1MZM9ucyTOpFU7IO3kru9tSAP2WUzNqMjukz4HPr2jsTjqgXYAsNuGEerqDeRP3de8T_SGJVRnKoqJjVrwk35eXe_I8I53G9NUsOudL2vhSRSEBJDpRPgwkiNc/s1600/Morrison_Family_2015_jhuiphoto-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAx3rBIeoFx_m9v9ams1MZM9ucyTOpFU7IO3kru9tSAP2WUzNqMjukz4HPr2jsTjqgXYAsNuGEerqDeRP3de8T_SGJVRnKoqJjVrwk35eXe_I8I53G9NUsOudL2vhSRSEBJDpRPgwkiNc/s320/Morrison_Family_2015_jhuiphoto-3.jpg" /></a></div>Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-47568460786621910352015-12-18T13:37:00.001-08:002015-12-18T13:37:55.522-08:00Home with HopeTwenty three days ago my sweet baby Hope received her miracle gift of a hero liver from a deceased donor. I do not know anything about the donor or family, other than Hope received a part of the liver. To say that we have been receiving the most exceptional care would be an understatement. Two days after surgery, her surgeon took her back to the operating room to open a vein in the liver with a clot in it. Praise God this was found early so it could be corrected and she could move on to healing. She spent 5 days in the ICU unit where we had the best nurses ever. EVER. Then, we were moved to the transplant floor where other children recovering from liver or kidney transplants stay. Again, the nursing care was superb. God has clearly put incredible people into our path to help us through this time. What is truly amazing is the fact that Boston Children's Hospital's liver transplant program is top in the country and it is right in our backyard. There were families on the floor who have traveled from around the world to come here. A family recently moved up from Florida. Another is from Mexico. Another is from Dubai. It has confirmed that despite 6 of us living in a 2 bedroom condo, this is where we need to be and stay so we can continue to receive wonderful medical care. Someone in my liver families group has said that post-transplant care is so critical, maybe even more so than the initial surgery. Her son is 15 years out from his liver transplant, and I believe she is right. Hope has already had three appointments at Children's in the past week since we were discharged. Two of these were to measure labs. The other appointment included labs and to meet with the team for our weekly 9:00am clinic visit. Our team is on top of things and is in constant communication. Every time she has labs, someone calls me later that day to explain what they show. While we were in the hospital, our surgeon came to the ICU to watch the ultrasound being done. He did not rely on the report, but rather wanted to see it with his own eyes. Another time, our liver doctor told us she was awake in the middle of the night, logging on to monitor Hope's vitals since her temperature was slightly elevated. That is the quality of care we are receiving. So exceptional. <br />
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Hope has already shown amazing responsiveness to her new liver. On the day of surgery, her bilirubin/jaundice was at 15.8. Literally overnight, she went down to 3.6. She is now at .3. This means her liver is working perfectly. She now will sleep all night, with just occasional crying for quick reassurance. The days of feeding her at night every 30 min-2 hours are behind us. Her body can now absorb and use the nutrition that she gets. She has begun to eat solid foods and taking sips from a cup. She is gaining weight and is up to 17 lbs. <br />
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Hope has come home with a feeding tube, abdominal drain and with 9 different medications. Right now, two of these medications are to fight rejection of her new liver. She is on an antiviral. A blood pressure medication. A blood thinner. A stomach protector. An anti fungal. An antibiotic to prevent pneumonia. And a 1/4 teaspoon of baking soda (ewww, for her electrolytes). Over the course of the next year she will be weaned from many of these medications. She will be on the anti rejection medication for the rest of her life. She takes them all by mouth, despite the fact that some of them make her gag. The nurses all said they are amazed at how well she does taking medications at her age. The feeding tube is necessary since she isn't interested in drinking enough right now. The abdominal drain is helping to get rid of the fluid which collects sometimes after liver transplant surgery. Hopefully this will be removed in the next few weeks. Hope's incision is healing nicely and the stitches will dissolve. <br />
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The outpouring of love and support during this time I something for which I am so deeply grateful. People around the world have been holding us in prayer. Dear friends moved into my condo to take care of the 4 older girls. Never once have these friends complained or even seemed tired. Home cooked meals were made every single night for my older girls and friends staying with them every single night. People gave rides and playdates. Food, baby supplies, and groceries have been delivered. I have received visits, messages, texts, and emails to express love and care while Hope was hospitalized. Christmas gifts and stockings for the girls have been covered. The thoughtfulness is just such a gift to us. I will never be able to properly express my gratitude. <br />
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The doctors have said for the next 6-8 weeks it will be important to remain isolated. After surgery, Hope was started on anti rejection medications to help her body fully accept her new liver. However, this means she is extremely susceptible to even the most minor illness. Any fever over 100.4 brings automatic hospitalization. Over time, the effects of these medications will decrease and her immune system will become stronger. Until then, we will be following the recommendations of avoiding all public places and limiting all visitors. <br />
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God knew what He was doing, leading us to baby Hope. Her team of doctors and nurses are meticulous in their care. They explain everything to me, answer my questions, and truly love Hope. Even the ultrasound tech here knew she had been listed for transplant and was hoping for the miracle. It is humbling that I was chosen to be the mother of such a precious baby. We have crossed the huge hurdle of waiting for transplant. She has defied all of the odds and lived. Her hero liver came in time. We now are creating our post transplant normal, cherishing each moment. I am soaking it up and am grateful for all of it.<br />
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-14160572086968474362015-11-28T09:23:00.000-08:002015-11-28T09:23:52.878-08:00ThanksgivingSovereign God<br />
A risk to take<br />
All things made new<br />
Beauty from the ashes<br />
Beauty in brokenness<br />
A life that matters<br />
No longer an orphan<br />
A baby now known <br />
A daughter dearly loved<br />
The samaritan offer<br />
A selfless donor and family<br />
A hero liver<br />
Always, always hope<br />
It was not "too late"<br />
Toxins gone<br />
Whites of eyes<br />
Pruritus a distant memory<br />
Healing<br />
Miracles in the midst<br />
Company on the crazy coaster<br />
A community who rallies<br />
Exceptional care<br />
Meticulous in every detail<br />
Liver families<br />
Tender touch<br />
Outpouring of love<br />
Offers of help<br />
Friendly smiles<br />
Understanding of pain<br />
Whispers of prayer<br />
A new day dawning<br />
Precious moments in time<br />
Feelings of peace<br />
The ability to choose<br />
A source of Hope<br />
Rejoicing in life<br />
Eucharisteo <br />
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-83104296604433330422015-11-25T09:19:00.001-08:002015-11-25T09:19:11.123-08:00Hope in the risk "Love is always worth the risk".<br />
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I wrote those words. Two years ago. Two years ago to the very day that we would get the call that there was a liver donor for sweet baby Hope. I wrote them to the mother of a little girl whose story I had been following. A little girl who was living with half a heart. A little girl who, like Hope, was not expected to make it. A little girl who was adopted from China as an answer to her mother's prayers. A little girl who embodied hope as she defied all odds and human understanding. A little girl who hung onto life and received the miraculous gift of a hero heart transplant. A little girl who stole the hearts of all those around her, including mine. A little girl, who would be known as Lily Strong. A little girl, whose very life was such a huge testimony to the love of our great God. <br />
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At the time, I had no idea what would unfold in my life just two years later. At the time, I did not know that it was no coincidence that I was carefully following and praying for sweet Lily and her family. At the time, I had no idea that as I spoke about Lily to my family and friends that God was weaving together stories and lives for His glory. At the time, I did not know that I was being prepared to walk a similar yet unique path. At the time, I did not know that I would ever actually have a hint of what was going through the mama heart of Lily's mom. At the time, I did not know that I would be asked to love dangerously, just as Lily's mom does. <br />
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I wrote those words to Lily's mama on November 24, 2013. And now, November 24, 2015 we would receive a call from Hope's transplant team that there was a hero liver for her. My friend found these words and shared them with me, as Hope lay sleeping on my chest awaiting her surgery. I immediately thought of the past year and all that Hope has been through. Six months of the past year were spent in an orphanage and hospice home as an orphan where she was not expected to survive. I thought of how impossible it was that she made it out of China and that she made it home. I thought of how unfathomable that it is that she was still alive and breathing on me. I thought of how miraculous that she has actually made it to the point where this gift is an option. I thought of how fierce my love is for her. And I thought of how I would do it all over again for her. Because she is so, so worth it. <br />
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I am still not sure why I was the one chosen to be Hope's mother. But I am beyond grateful that I was chosen. Loving her has taught me so so much, and I am still learning. I have learned to try to live in the moment and find the beauty. I have learned that there is ALWAYS hope. I have learned to choose hope in even the most desperate of situations or when things seem out of control. And I have learned that to love, even to love in the face of enormous uncertainty, is always worth it. <br />
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I live now to choose hope. And I live now to choose love. Because love is always worth the risk. <br />
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Cindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8258177429900044392.post-33806398655300405812015-11-19T07:32:00.001-08:002015-11-19T07:32:53.392-08:00Six months of Hope“Orphans are easier to ignore before you know their names. <br />
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They are easier to ignore before you see their faces. <br />
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It is easier to pretend they’re not real before you hold them in your arms. <br />
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But once you do, everything changes…” – David Platt, “Radical”<br />
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#nationaladoptionmonth<br />
#sixmonthsinmyarmsCindyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10536655324087723002noreply@blogger.com0