Audacity Magazine » Dis Abled Mom

2008: Your Year?

Nathasha Alvarez — Wed, 30 Jan 2008 14:22:58 +0000

Capricorn (Dec 22 – Jan 19)

Ringing in the new year is your favorite time of year! Reflecting on your past achievements and setting new goals for the upcoming year is a tradition for you.

A leader by nature, you’re going to have to step up to a whole new level if you expect to maintain that leadership attitude. Don’t delay which is something that you goat people tend to do until you have been pushed to the point of no return.

Kick it up a notch and make this your most audacious year ever!

Aquarius (Jan 20 – Feb 18)

Everyone knows you as the party animal! If there is a party you are the person to call to provide the lively entertainment. Sometimes you feel you are on stage performing for everyone. But this year you have decided to perform for yourself!

Make the decisions that will let others know another dimension to your humorous side. You have a creative side that can be quite profitable if you put it to work. Your amazing social skills can draw the right people to make your project your best creation ever.

Pisces (Feb 19 – Mar 20)

After several stressful months, you are managing to balance out your life in all areas regarding health and finance. However, you are still off kilter with your quality of friends.

Every year people clean their closet out and this is your year to clean your social closet. Is it that important to collect acquaintances? Think about your friends like clothes in your closet. You need the basics and some accessories. Find out who is keeping you busy or actually enriching your life.

Aries (Mar 21 – Apr 19)

There are those who say you are selfish and there are those who say you are a survivor. You want to help others with their troubles, only after you have taken care of your business.

This year you might want to dedicate a portion of your time to volunteering in an area that interests you so you can learn to take care of other people’s needs while nurturing your own.

Taurus (Apr 20 – May 20)

Are those tears of joy? Yes, they are. The holidays are over and you can stop watching those shows that only make you feel more nostalgic than normal.

Feed the adventurous side in you. Make only three goals for this year. Think about them and make sure that they will make this year the most memorable year ever because there are going to be new people in your life so that future nostalgic moments will include them in it.

Gemini (May 21 – Jun 20)

Everyone has that little voice that guides them. There are times you ignore that voice and regret the outcome. So here is some advice for you: LISTEN UP!

That voice is talking to you and you are ignoring it because the present pleasure is so great. But you have to think longterm. Finances are not stable and it has nothing to do with the economy. You are in control of your future.

Don’t feel pressured to do something you feel uncomfortable doing or you will find yourself in the never ending whole of denial!

Cancer (June 21 – Jul 22)

Everyone knows two important factors about your personality. You are the last person to say something unkind about someone and you have the temper to keep those who say unkind words about you far away.

Right now you want to really lose your temper but is now the right time? Not really, talk it out, work it out in your mind. You will realize that the anger you have towards someone might not be the right person to direct that negative energy.

This year look into other ways to express your displeasure and your pleasure about life and its audacious surprises.

Leo (Jul 23 – Aug 22)

Everyone has dreams. You are the cheerleader of dreams! Heaven help the rest of us when you are not supported with your dreams. The leo in you not only will roar for attention but will strike out a paw or two.

Set your dreams into focus. Write it out. Plan it out. Read a book on goals. You start projects, talk them up and then keep everyone in suspense waiting for them to come into fruition.

Let the jungle know that the LEO is back and ready to rock!

Virgo (Aug 23 – Sep 22)

You have a cheerleader in your corner. Don’t take that person for granted. When you come to an ethical concern think back to grammar school. Those rules can help you during this very crucial time.

It’s time to take action. Being everyone’s friend is your best attribute but don’t let that block your path of success. Friends can unknowingly bring your energy down. Sometimes a simple, “Talk to you later” can avoid that awkward departure from those bummed out friends.

Go back to them when you have the energy to lift their spirits up and maintain your own in tact.

Libra (Sep 23 – Oct 22)

Aren’t you getting tired of stressing out over the past? Let it go! Move on. The future is so much better when you are not hanging on to something that can never be recaptured. You like things to have balance and reasoning but not everything in life is balanced.

Look at this unexpected event as a beautiful surprise that will balance you out in another area of your life that you haven’t even thought needed balancing. Make this year the year that you can let your hair down without worrying about the aftermath.

Scorpio (Oct 23 – Nov 21)

You can put that stinger away. This is the year of accountability for you. Many times you rush to blame someone else for your place in life. Your stings hurt so much that people tread carefully around you. Is this the way you want to spend the rest of your life?

Make this the year of truth and responsibility. Saying you are sorry is not that difficult. Living with the regret of not saying those words can be devastating. No one is perfect and no one expects you to be either. Laugh at your flaws and remind yourself not to repeat them again. This could be your best year ever!

Sagittarius (Nov 22 – Dec 21)

Tolerance is a bit much for you this year. You are tired of tolerating other’s antics. Good for you! It’s about time you put people in their place. But are you ready for the heat that will get back to you?

There is a difference between tolerating someone’s wrong doings and someone’s opinions. Make sure you can see the difference before you put yourself in harm’s way and hurt the feelings of those who are innocent.

Not everything must be in black and white. See the blurry line and you can very well separate those who are on your side!

Happy New Year to all of you who fall under any of these signs! HA HA That means you, too!

Comments nathasha@audacitymagazine.com

OI Motherhood

Christine Wartenburg — Sun, 30 Sep 2007 13:38:23 +0000

When I began to write a article about motherhood, being a mother with Osteogenesis Imperfecta (OI), I had to take a long pause. I have taken many pauses in my life, but this one proved different. Since I’ve never been a mother without OI, I had to try to imagine the differences between being a OI mother and an able bodied one. In some ways the differences are very minor, but in others it’s quite profound. The decision to raise a family for anyone with a hereditary genetic disorder is one fraught with questions which I had to ask myself years ago when I became a mother for the first time. What are the odds I will pass on my defective gene? What if my child is in fact, born with OI? Will my child’s OI be the same as mine? What are the heath issues I’ll face during pregnancy? And countless others. To a degree I believe all women thinking of raising a family have apprehensions, fears, and questions, but for a woman with OI there are additional layers of concerns that must be addressed. However, when my journey of motherhood began, I had not yet taken this pause. This journey for me began at age eighteen. I had barley finished high school when I fell in love with my now husband. It was a whirlwind romance centered around, friends, fun, and planning our future. I had never considered that this future may include a child, or children for that matter. Oddly enough, I had never even entertained the idea of becoming a mother one day. In fact I had never even held a baby before. Nevertheless, as fate would have it, before I had even sent in my college application to the local University I became pregnant with my first child. Upon learning I was pregnant, terror swept over me. I was fearful for my future and unsure of how it would effect my relationships with my loved ones. What would my parents say? How would my boyfriend react? My life was in upheaval, even before considering how being disabled with OI would factor in. Needless to say it was much to my relief when I received full support from my boyfriend, friends, and family. Now it came time for me to take that first pause, asking myself the “additional layer” of questions that most prospective mothers don’t have to find answers to. I was fourteen weeks pregnant and had just been told “it’s a boy!” when I attended my first appointment with a Geneticist for pregnancy counseling. I had never visited a genetic specialist in spite of being diagnosed with a OI myself at three months of age. I was unsure of what to expect but looked forward to the professional insight. Shortly after my arrival the physician looked me over, evaluating the severity of my OI, concluding that carrying a child was possible based on my medical history, size, and deformities. The Dr. also wasted no time enlightening me to the fact my child had a 50/50 shot of inheriting OI. It was quite a revelation to hear spoken, yet I didn’t even blink in reaction. Perhaps I was eased by the obliteration of my denial–or numb. Either way I was momentarily at peace—peace that was quickly shattered by the suggestion of abortion. I was shocked and admittedly offended, quickly replying with a “No” and a look of “How dare you.” before leaving the office in a huff. It was almost immediately after this encounter when reality set in. In that moment I was no longer wondering if my child would grow up to be quirky like Aunt Lisa, or share his fathers birthmark—instead loomed the possibility of inheriting a brittle bone disorder that would effect every aspect of his life. My pregnancy progressed fairly normally in the beginning, with morning sickness and unusual cravings galore. Although I was haunted by possibility my son would be born with OI, I tried not to worry about something which I could not change the outcome. I had discussed the obvious risks with my obstetrician from the get go. Due to having a shortened torso, I was made aware of potential complications such as trouble breathing for myself, as well as premature birth. I also knew I would require a caesarian section since a normal delivery would most certainly shatter my pelvis. The baby could also potentially kick and break my ribs. Still, I took the the approach of crossing bridges when I came to them and carried on life as normally as I could. Not to say that there weren’t a few unexpected difficulties however. By my fifth month of pregnancy, I began having difficulty maintaining my weight due to the fact my stomach was compressed, and had the sensation of fullness after only eating a couple bites. I also became extremely anemic and was exhausted much of the time. Additionally I had an irritable uterus, and was hospitalized to evaluate for pre term labor on more than one occasion. As nerve wrecking as it all was, I managed to keep focused on the light at the end of the tunnel. Luckily a friend of the family provided me with information from the Osteogenesis Imperfecta Foundation regarding pregnancy statistics of OI women, through which I found some solace. This newfound information told me I wasn’t the only one, and it could be done. At 37 weeks gestation I checked into Women and Children’s Hospital for my scheduled c-section. It had all come down to this. The questions had been asked, some had been answered, some had not, yet at this moment none of them mattered. I cried the whole way to the OR, and I wasn’t quite sure what I was afraid of, but I was. I opted to receive spinal anesthesia rather than general anesthesia (being put to sleep), since it was the safer option for the baby. I knew there was a chance the spinal anesthesia wouldn’t work properly due to the fact I have scoliosis, and there was a risk of complications such as spinal damage, but it was a risk worth taking. Fortunately I was soon rightly numb from the waste down, slathered in Betadine, and hooked up to all the proper monitors. Less than twenty minutes later, my new son Luke made his grand entrance– none too thrilled and wailing. At six pounds even, he was healthy, and checked head to toe for any sign of OI. He was given a tentative “all clear” and was released from the hospital at two days old, even though I had to stay a week. Arriving home was yet another daunting milestone I had not prepared for. How will I carry the baby considering I use a wheelchair? How will I transport him on outings? What if he does have OI after all, and I break him changing his diaper? But I soon realized these questions answered themselves. I learned babies have an unbelievable grip, and hold on very well when being “wheeled around” on short trips. The Snugglie carrier was also a lifesaver. I also could form a cradle of sorts on my lap and wheel around with him sleeping on my legs. While my mother was nervous to say the least about a wheelchair user caring for an infant, her concerns quickly dissipated. I am also happy to say, I never “broke” Luke changing his diaper–in fact he never has broken at all. As of today he is a happy, rough and tumble, OI free little boy. As for my future, as my own person and as a mother, was enriched more than I could imagine. I was soon married and attended college the following spring after Luke was born. While I had to make a lot of changes in my life, like finding a suitable apartment for all of us that was accessible, and learning to be very proficient in chasing a toddler in my wheelchair, it was all well worth it. While women with OI or any disability, have many hurdles to overcome raising a family the rewards are just as great as any parent. That I believe this is the most important thing to remember as you consider the challenge of raising children.As a disabled woman and mother I have learned to take the questions that come in stride and seek their answers enthusiastically, rather than fear them. I relish the opportunity to take on new challenges, even though at times they can be frustrating. Ultimately, motherhood is one challenge within a challenge which I am thankful I had the opportunity to take on. What do you think of motherhood as a person with a physical disability? Email us at nathasha@audacitymagazine.com .

Memories

Amy Blanchard — Fri, 30 Mar 2007 13:47:18 +0000

I remember my mother’s words
Of the day that I was born.
She wanted a girl after so many boys
Then she got me – oh the joy.

They said “It’s a girl!”
My mom thrilled to the gills
But, oh dear, trouble’s ahead
Okay, so fix it, just put it to bed.

Hours later, things changed.
“Should we give her, her last rites?”
The nurses wanted to know.
As mom basked in her glow.

But I proved strong
As many disabled babies do.
Doctors report all the worst
While the parents are parched with thirst

For a bright, happy future
For their little bundle of love
To beat all the odds
And put their faith in the gods

I don’t remember being told “you can’t”.
I don’t remember being told “you won’t”.
I don’t remember being told “don’t try”.
I don’t remember wondering, “Me? Why, or why?

I don’t have memories of a sad childhood.
I don’t have memories of pain.
I don’t have memories of boredom and tears.
I don’t have memories like that through the years.

I did it. I won.
I’m happy, healthy and strong.
Now I have my daughter, so sweet.
Life – full of hope, promise – a treat.

Email your comments to nathasha@audacitymagazine.com .

T.G.F.F.

Amy Blanchard — Mon, 12 Feb 2007 13:48:37 +0000

T.G.F.F.

Thank Goodness For Family. I sure do love mine.

My hysterectomy is done – the surgery went well and I’m healing slowly but nicely. After two nights in the hospital, it was over. It was time to go….

….to my parents’ house. Remember last month, all my frets and fears leading up to my surgery? Mainly, my worries about how on earth would I deal with the care and management of my daughter while abiding by all the rules and restrictions for a successful recovery? How could I do it all? Simple – just move in with the parents.

About two weeks before my surgery, while I was visiting my parents, my mom offered that I, my husband and Ella could stay with them for awhile immediately following my surgery.

That way, I’d not have to deal with stairs since they live in a ranch-style home, my mom would constantly be around to watch after Ella and to help me get around, and Hubby would be able to return more quickly to his regular work schedule.

Great! Sounded good to me. Thank you so much!

We ended up staying about a week and a half. And let me tell you, what a life I led for that time! No worries concerning Sweetie’s care. Daily naps for me. Yummy meals served to me at my distinguished seat of honor on my parents’ love seat.

Sleeping in while Ella woke Nana every morning to fix her “morning milk” and turn on her favorite cartoons. Not to mention all the wonderful tender loving care I received from everyone.

Wow – how wonderful is all that?

My sister-in-law even came to visit one day, bringing with her two pans full of homemade chicken parmigiana for that night’s dinner. Do I have a great family, or what?!

Of course there were some downfalls, mostly concerning Ella. She was somewhat spoiled by her grandparents – eating what she liked, staying in her jammies ‘til noon almost every day, and lots of over-stimulation from everyone in the house.

It’s funny, though, because even Ella noticeably got tired of it all. Since she’d been at Nana’s since right before my surgery, she was more anxious to get home sooner than we were. But we all survived.

Our stay worked out quite well and I’m ever so grateful for all that my parents have done for me.

Now, we’re home. As of this writing, Hubby is going to work in the morning and Ella and I will be alone for the first time since my surgery. But I think we’ll do just fine.

Sure, Hubby will have to make sure we’re both downstairs before he leaves since I can’t do the stairs on my own yet. And he’ll have to make sure my indoor firewood supply is well stocked. But as far as Ella and I are concerned – we’ll do great.

I’m still a bit sore, but I have medications to temper that. Ella seems to understand my limitations. She asks me every day if I’m still sore. She offers to modify games she’d like me to play with her so I don’t have to move off the couch.

I’m able to get up, go to the kitchen, and prepare her simple foods. And I can help her in the bathroom if she really needs assistance. We’re a good team and we’ll be fine.

However, we’re not in the clear just yet. We’ll need to go back to my parents’ once Hubby starts back at his night job later this week. But that’s certainly manageable. I need the help with getting Ella to bed, after all.

Even though I feel I could, I know I shouldn’t be climbing stairs yet, which is unavoidable if we were to stay here. So off to my parents’ we’ll go again. Oh well – you do what you have to do.

I’m so completely appreciative of all that my parents’ do and have done for me. I realize there are other disabled adults out there who are not so close to their families – either physically or emotionally – and would therefore not have the option of receiving family help during the tougher times.

So I know how lucky I am, believe me. My parents – my entire family – are the greatest. I only wish I could do something outlandishly fantabulous for them to show how much they mean to me.

Happy February, everyone. Happy Valentine’s Day. Take the time this month to show those you love – your family, your friends, your cat, whatever – just how much they mean to you.

Hopefully, from the love and support they’ve given you throughout the years, you’ve gained your own strengths and wisdom to move forward with your own life, fulfilling your dreams, reaching your goals, and gaining personal strength every step of the way.
Email your questions and comments to nathasha@audacitymagazine.com . Join the Online Forum and discuss mommy issues with other moms.

Post Surgery Worries

Amy Blanchard — Fri, 19 Jan 2007 13:49:54 +0000

Waiting, Wondering and Worrying

Okay, I confess. I’m scared. Nervous. A wee bit apprehensive. About my upcoming hysterectomy, that is.

By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure I’ll be home from the hospital, lounging on my couch, allowing the world to pass by in front of me as I rest and recover from the ordeal. But right now – I’m just waiting. And wondering. And worrying.

Yes, I’ve had surgeries before. Many surgeries, in fact. But I haven’t had one in more than 8 years. And I’ve never had one where my husband was around. The last one I had, to repair my tethered spinal cord, was months before I met my husband. So, maybe I’m even a little scared about how well he’s going to get through all this.

What else am I worried about, you ask? Well, for me, it really seems like the “not climbing stairs” rule is going to be a major issue. You see, if, after a couple weeks, the average post-hysterectomy patient feels she can get up a flight of stairs without winding herself then she may proceed as normal. However, if stair climbing is more of a challenge for you then just don’t do it.

Well, guess what folks? Stair climbing is already a bit of a challenge for me. Oh, I can do it, alright. I have to – we live in a 2- story house and I just do it. But it’s not entirely easy. I pretty much have to pull myself up using lots of arm (and abdominal) muscles to make up for my lack of strong leg muscles.

This is all fine and good on a normal, everyday basis. But not once I’ve had major abdominal surgery. Oh yeah, that’s another lovely thing I just found out – they’re going to take my uterus abdominally, rather than vaginally as originally planned.

It’s the best plan in the long run, I understand. But it adds more time to the recovery process, especially if I don’t stick closely to all of the post-op rules.

So how, might I ask, do I put my daughter to bed, in her second-story bedroom, 3 nights a week while my Hubby works the night shift at his 2nd part-time job? The nurse assured me I could climb stairs, like once a day, if I had my husband’s help to do so.

But when he’s at work and Sweetie’s got to go to bed – just what do they propose I do, huh?

My parents live about 20 minutes away. I suppose one option is to ask my mom to come over those evenings and put Sweetie to bed for me. It would be no later than 8:30pm. Then, she could be free to head on home.

But mom doesn’t especially love driving at night. And the “love” fades even faster in the face of even a mild dusting of snow, let alone a full-out blizzard and can we just take a moment to remember here that I’m having surgery in January?! So a snow storm or two is definitely a darn sure possibility.

There’s also the option that Hubby tells his work that he just plain can’t work evenings for awhile. Like, for 3 weeks. Ideally, the entire 6 weeks should be what he’s home for. But that’s just crazy talk in regards to getting that kind of time off work.

But 3 weeks is only slightly more reasonably imaginable. After all, we both work at the same place. We both have the same boss. She is totally awesome and understanding and cool and helpful. She has already rearranged Hubby’s part-time evening hours to better suit his whim any number of times.

And, really, since he’s part time, he’s not “set” to have any sick days or personal days of any type. He can basically take all the time he wants – without pay.

Honestly, we could manage that. After all, he’ll still be working with his dad during the days, and he’s making good money there. But I just can’t see work “letting” him take an extended leave from his job, even if it is to help me, their other employee who has doctor approved recovery time off.

So there you go. This whole putting Sweetie to bed thing is my biggest post-op concern. In regards to most of her other needs and care, she’s pretty well able to manage herself.

At the very least, she’s old enough to understand that Mommy hurts and needs her to be extra helpful and extra nice and a really big girl when it comes to getting things done around the house.

But for all that Sweetie can and will be able to do for herself, I know she can’t put herself to bed. Even if she could, I won’t have it. She’s only 4 years old! She shouldn’t have to walk herself to bed, turn out her light and tuck herself in. That’s just heartbreaking to me. It shouldn’t happen and it won’t happen. Not in my house, anyway.

So, like I said, maybe I’ll have to have mom stay longer some days, she’ll be coming over during most days to help me out anyway. Or maybe Hubby can get that work leave after all. Or maybe I’ll just turn the lights down low and the TV off and I’ll let her fall asleep on the sofa those evenings until Hubby gets home and can carry her up to bed. I don’t know.

But something will be figured out. It has to be figured out. Sweetie needs to be cared for properly, no matter what condition I’m in or what our surroundings are.

Sorry I only have worries for you this month with no real solutions. But by next month I will have lived through at least some of my recovery time and I can tell you what sort of solutions we came up with.

Regarding Sweetie’s nighttime routine and any and all other unforeseen challenges that will have certainly arisen as a result of my surgery and post-op recovery rules.

Wish me luck.

Send Amy an email at nathasha@audacitymagazine.com .

Reflections

Amy Blanchard — Sat, 30 Dec 2006 13:51:32 +0000

Throughout my whole life people have told me about myself. They say things like, “You’re so strong.” “You’re so brave.” “You’ve got an amazing attitude.” And they often want to know, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” I want to ask. “What do you mean, I’m strong and brave? So – I generally have a good attitude. Isn’t that a good way to go through life? Much better than sulking around every day, don’t you think? And what have I got to sulk about anyway? My life is pretty good, I think.”

These people – these observers of my life (or what they perceive my life to be) – they just don’t get it. They think it must be so hard to be me. Poor, little, disabled me with the leg braces, walking stick and all the other challenges I “must” endure because of the “unfortunate” situation I was born into.

But yet, they see me working. They see me married. They see me with my happy, healthy daughter. Wow! Look! The girl’s done okay for herself despite her “problems”. She’s so strong and brave. Amazing!

Okay, then. Whatever. Yes, I admit my life is good. My life is full. I’m generally a happy person and I’m doing okay. But, to me, my state of happiness or success or life fullness has absolutely no relationship to my physical challenges. That is, I am not happy in spite of my disability.

I did not get to this point in my life because I felt the need to “prove” that I could lead a normal life just like anyone else. In fact, I can’t think of one instance where I decided to make a stand against my disability in order to do something or get somewhere, including having a child.

Yes, of course I thought about what a pregnancy and childrearing would mean to me as a woman with spina bifida. And my husband and I did think long and hard about the prospect of starting a family and all that would entail for us and our specific situation. We did as much research on the subject as possible and made the smartest decisions we could based on our findings and my doctors’ guidance.

But I never once felt like I couldn’t have a child because I’m disabled. It never entered my mind.

Likewise, in raising Ella – I have simply always done what feels natural to me. Just like everything else I do in life – I just do it. Sure, I may have to make adjustments. Or, after trying something, I may find that I can’t do one thing or another (at least on my own). But I never give up. I never say can’t. Nor do I ever blame my physical challenges for any so-called “failures” I run into. I just live life the best I know how. That’s all I can do.

You see, it’s like this. I’m not disabled as a result of something that was taken away from me. Like, one day I could walk and run just fine and the next day – boom! – I couldn’t. I am the way I’ve always been. I’ve got nothing to mourn – any experiences I wish I could have again “like normal” because, to me, I am normal. I’m as normal as I’ve ever been. And, therefore, the way I go about living my life – it’s just normal. It just is. No biggie.

So – yes. To others I suppose I may appear to be an amazing spirit who bravely solders on despite my hard-knocks life. What a gal!

But when I look at myself in the mirror, I just see me staring back. Short, shy, kind of cute and increasingly impatient Amy. I get things “wrong” everyday. I’m way too insecure. I’m a scaredy cat over silly things. I don’t have very many close friends. I can’t cook and I’m a lousy housekeeper.

What is amazing about my life, though? My family. My husband and my daughter. My life is amazing – yes. But it’s the wonderful people I’m surrounded by that make it so. Not me. I’m just Amy.

Email Amy at nathasha@audacitymagazine.com

Taking Advantage of Life

Amy Blanchard — Thu, 30 Nov 2006 13:53:08 +0000

This month’s theme at Audacity is “Taking Advantage”. I wasn’t sure what I had to say on the subject, so I kept putting off my article.

Then, one day, I wrote a particular post on my blog based off the theme of “Life” for the website Mama Says Om. I liked the way it came out. Others did too. And I thought, coincidently, that it happened to speak nicely to Audacity’s theme as well.

Here, in its entirety, is that post:

When I was all of about 6 weeks pregnant, I experienced some spotting. Maybe not anything to be too concerned about, but I wanted to be safe so I called my doctor. The nurse heard my story and thought I was probably okay. But just to be safe she squeezed me in for an ultrasound that day at the hospital.

Trouble was, Hubby and I were leaving that afternoon for his sister’s weekend wedding. We were to arrive at the inn in time for the late afternoon dress rehearsal.

In fact, we said we’d be there even earlier than that, so we could settle in and relax a bit with my in-laws before all the festivities began.

And no one knew yet that I was pregnant.

How could we explain our late arrival without raising any suspicion or concern? Who knows, but we knew our baby took precedence and we needed to find out that everything was alright.

Long story short – we went to the hospital and waited for as long as we could. More than an hour, maybe closer to two. Then we knew it was getting too late. We needed to leave. And anyway, I wasn’t bleeding anymore. And I wasn’t in pain. I really believed that all was well. So we left.

We went through that whole weekend whooping it up with our family and celebrating the union of my sister-in-law and her new husband. Yet, in the back of our minds, Hubby and I still had our concerns. Was our baby okay? Did I have a miscarriage and not know it? Was our baby healthy? What was going on?

Come the early part of that next week, we finally got in for that ultrasound. I heard the doctors and nurses talking among themselves. The order for my case?

Check for viability.

The absolute scariest words I’d ever heard.

Luckily, and obviously, they found our little peanut (literally – that’s about all she looked like at 6 weeks old). She was right where she should be and all was well. How wonderful to get that amazing confirmation!

My next ultrasound was scheduled for week 16 of my pregnancy. This is when we found out we were having a little girl. And that she was completely healthy. No sign of spina bifida. No Down Syndrome. And her size was right on track. Woo hoo! The best news ever! And so completely conclusive that we felt secure not engaging in further testing. No amnioscentesis needed! Yay!

Sure enough, of course, Sweetie was born in December of that year, 3 weeks early, but perfectly healthy. And so sweet. She acquired her nickname within minutes of being born.

Now, almost 4 years later, I’m having some new health concerns. I’ve been diagnosed with a severely prolapsed uterus. A hysterectomy is inevitably in my not-too-distant future. We see the urogynecologist next week to confirm the situation (a third opinion), ask more questions and schedule the procedure.

I’m done creating new life. No more tiny toes to hold and midnight feedings to bond through. It’s alright. I was done anyway. My body was wrecked too much from my pregnancy with Sweetie and subsequent active life with a small infant. It’s not something I’m interested in putting myself through again.

Nonetheless, I’m sad. No siblings for Sweetie. And no heir to carry on the family name (my Hubby happens to be the last male in his entire family). Heck, I even have the absolute perfect name for a little boy now! But it’s not to be.

Sweetie has many cousins to keep her company and to grow ever closer to as she grows up. Maybe she’ll even keep her last name as an adult, perhaps passing it along to her own son one day. What a wonderful gift that would be for her Daddy.

Hubby and I know that my health is more important than keeping alive the dream of one day maybe adding to our family. And so – we’ve reached the end.

Dear Sweetie – You’re not only the light of our lives but you also bring so much joy and life to our home every single day. Daddy and I are so glad to have you. So thankful that you’re happy and healthy. And so excited to see what this life holds for you and to experience all your life’s adventures right alongside you. We will forever be your cheerleaders, your guides and your anchor. We love you.

Love, Mommy and Daddy

First Vacation for Spina Bifida Mom Since Baby

Amy Blanchard — Mon, 30 Oct 2006 13:54:26 +0000

Ella is fast approaching her 4th birthday. She’s growing up. No longer can I pretend that she’s a toddler – she’s definitely a little girl.

She’s more independent than ever and I have considerably less worries regarding the physical activity of taking care of her. Ella is able to help me a lot more than she used to, which is a truly wonderful thing.

All great, yes. But weird too. Surreal, even. My little lady seems so confidently set with her life right now while I’m the anxiously worrying little girl crying in the corner.

Uh oh. She’s moving up to a new pre-kindergarten class! Will she enjoy it? Will she make new friends? Um, yeah. No problem at all. Oh, and we’re thinking of putting the cats up for adoption.

Won’t Ella freak out? Will she feel like we’re getting rid of a part of our family – and maybe we would get rid of her next? Nope. She doesn’t care – whatever.

So, what’s left for a mom like me to do but – oh, I don’t know – maybe reclaim some of myself again? And maybe even focus a little on my relationship with my husband? Whoa! What a concept.

With that in mind…. happy October! That means, for Hubby and I, VACATION! A Bermudan cruise, to be exact. If you’re reading this during the first week of the month, then right now Hubby and I are either relaxing in the sun, enjoying the beautiful Bermudan landscape, or are engorging ourselves on the endlessly wide assortment of cruise ship culinary delights.

Or, if it’s a bit later in October at this point for you, then know that we are safely home again with our Sweetie and that we’ve most certainly lavished upon her all sorts of fun vacation gifts.

This trip marks Hubby and my first “real” vacation in years. And neither of us has ever been on a cruise before. So we are definitely excited about the week’s excursion and the opportunity to sit back, relax, eat, drink and be merry – all while being transported to an exotic, tropical location.

What could be better?! I’m sure we’re having/have had an absolutely wonderful time and are very sad to get back to reality.

But the days leading up to our romantic getaway – the days we’re currently winding our ways through as I write this – are a different story all together. Sadness and even fear are going through my body and mind.

In fact, since the moment we booked the cruise back in May, I’ve been dreading the fact that our vacation away means leaving Ella behind.

Saturday to Saturday – 8 days without my Sweetie. The longest stretch of time we’ve ever been apart. I don’t know how it’s going to go.

As I write this, we are still about three weeks away from our departure. I’m doing what I can to prepare Ella for her own special vacation with Nana and Papa Dave and to help her understand that Mommy and Daddy are going on a different vacation without her.

We recently watched a special about the Disney cruise ships. I took that opportunity to tell Ella about the big boat Mommy and Daddy will be on while she has fun staying at Nana’s house.

I also pointed out that, if we like our boat trip, maybe in a few years the three of us can go on a Mickey Mouse cruise all together! Yay!

I also made Ella her very own “Ella’s Super Vacation Calendar” – a place where she can mark off the days until vacation, and then record all the fun things she does during her stay.

When I presented the idea to her to make this, she was all for it and totally excited. But I ended up doing all the work. She quickly got distracted and went off to play something else.

As for the end product, she politely complimented my efforts, watched me hang it on the fridge, and very quickly forgot all about it. Oh well.

So, yeah…. She’s well aware of the impending events. But does she care? From what I can tell – no, not really.

Basically I’m getting from her the feeling of, Big deal, Mommy. So what – you and Daddy are going away and I’m going on vacation to Nana’s house. Tell me something I might care a little about, would ya?.

Do we see a pattern here? From daycare changes to cat problems to vacation plans –Mommy’s freaking out about the impact of all the Big Changes while Ella smoothly glides through her days without a care or a worry in sight. Ah, to be that carefree again…. What a way to live!

This leaving Ella thing has definitely been a reoccurring problem for me. I remember when Hubby and I went on a mini vacation to Montreal when she was about 15 months old. We were only going to be gone for half a week, yet I was beside myself with sadness about leaving my baby.

About a week or so prior to that trip, I called my cousin and told her how tough it was going to be for me to leave Ella. While she was somewhat sympathetic, mostly my cousin couldn’t understand why I wasn’t looking forward to this rare time alone with my husband.

Hah! Little did she know, at the time, the way your heart tugs at you when you’re a mom. Now a mom herself, I almost think she’s more leery about leaving her daughter than I am about leaving mine!

But I made it through that Montreal trip just fine. Ella did well at my parents’ house (heck, she was too young to know any better anyway) and Hubby and I had a nice, relaxing time away.

Likewise for this current vacation, I’m sure everything will turn out well and all interested parties will enjoy their new surroundings and have exciting vacation adventures to share upon return.

Anyway, Hubby and I definitely need this opportunity to reconnect. Imagine – a whole week to focus only on ourselves – as individuals and as a married couple. For one week we will be Scott and Amy. Not Mommy and Daddy.

There will be no fights about getting little girls dressed and out the door in the morning. No arguments about what exactly Ella needs to eat for dinner in order to earn a dessert.

And, thank Goodness, no Blue’s Clues, Sesame Street or Dora making sing-song noises in the background.

Just us. Just relaxing. Just doing whatever it is we want to do, for ourselves and for each other, while we celebrate seven wonderful years as husband and wife.

Okay, so maybe this won’t be such a tough week after all. Ella will do fine, I’m sure. I probably won’t do quite as well, at first. But I’m thinking that, not long after we set sail, my worries and sadness will float away on the waves and I’ll luxuriate in my surroundings, enjoying the opportunity to reclaim some all important “me time” as well as some romantic “we time”.

Ahhhh. Now I really can’t wait!

Email Amy at nathasha@audacitymagazine.com and join the Online Forumto speak to others in similar situations.

Diagnosis Makes For Thoughtful Treatment and Lifestyle Choices

Amy Blanchard — Sat, 30 Sep 2006 13:55:42 +0000

Funny thing about me – I have the miraculous ability to not feel the pain and discomfort of pretty much any given malady – until it’s pointed out to me that I should. It may be because of my spina bifida, considering I’m partially paralyzed below my knees. But I’ve experienced this in other parts of my body as well. So I don’t know. But that’s how it goes for me.

Now, thanks to a recent routine doctor’s appointment – well, I’m feeling the pains of a malady I was, just days before, blissfully unaware of.

My diagnosis? Uterine prolapse.

Simply put, my uterus is falling. The ligaments that hold it in place have weakened, and so it’s begun its slow descent out of my body. Yes, out. Not that that’s in danger of happening anytime very soon. But, I’m told, it could happen. Yay.

So, I’m confronted with three choices

I could do nothing for now. But, sooner or later, something will have to be done on a more drastic level for sure.

Or I could have a pessary, or dam, inserted into my body, supporting my uterus up where it belongs. However, pessaries must be removed “regularly”, cleaned, and reinserted. What a pain. Also, given that my muscles are so weak in that vicinity due to my spina bifida, I don’t even know if such a device would stay in place.

The third and final option is a hysterectomy. Meaning a long recovery time, missed worked, and limited ability to help with the house or Ella’s care. Oh, and no more babies.

Still, taking all things into consideration, I’m thinking of going the surgical route. That really seems like the best choice I can make. Just get the thing out of me already! Obviously it doesn’t want to be there. And I haven’t planned on more kids anyway. So who needs it?

Plus, some of the other non-surgical solutions listed in the literature I picked up include: losing weight, stop smoking, and no lifting of heavy objects or engaging in other activities causing unnecessary strain.

Maybe viable alternative measures for some, but for me: A) I’m already too skinny, B) I don’t smoke, and C) sometimes I have no choice but to strain.

You see, I sometimes get absolutely terrible stomach pains (mostly from eating too much of the “wrong” kind of food). And pretty much the only thing that even remotely makes me feel any better is to try to push out the pain.

Easy for the healthy person to do – just push, poop and feel better. Not so easy for me (or most others with varying degrees of spinal damage, I imagine). All I can do is push my little heart out, get limited to no physical results, but perhaps work my way through the waves of pain.

So, I’m hoping I can get by for a while with no tummy troubles. And that may be a tall order, considering the cruise my husband and I have planned for next month. I mean, cruises are made for all-you-can-eat binge partying, aren’t they?

Oh well. I guess I’ll be having none of that. Just simple, small portions for me. I really don’t want to be pushing out any more than what should naturally leave the body come bathroom time, right? Right. Sounds like a plan to me.

And what about this no more pregnancy thing? With my pre-existing disability and now a couple pregnancy-related difficulties factored in, the likelihood of having a safe and healthy pregnancy and child is pretty much nil.

With Ella I ended up developing pre eclampsia and, therefore, delivering her 3 weeks early. Any successive pregnancies, I’m told, could potentially bring the pre eclampsia on earlier than before, further endangering both the baby and myself.

Then there’s my spina bifida. Not only does every pregnancy present again the risk of birth defect to the unborn child, but it also further deteriorates my own body. More back pain. More weight on my already weak legs. More bladder issues. It’s just not good.

And now – my prolapsed uterus. How in the world could I ever carry another pregnancy if my uterus doesn’t want to stay where it belongs!? Even with a pessary I’d think that, with the growth of the fetus, things just wouldn’t want to stay put for very long at all.

So, like I said, they should just take it out. Remove my good-for-nothing uterus and let me get back to life as I know it.

My only concern right now is timing. There’s our upcoming cruise to consider. Then, the first week we’re back at work, the woman who replaces me goes on vacation – to Las Vegas – for a week. So the earliest I could even think about having surgery is mid to late October. Fine – as long as my body cooperates, that is.

Because I really don’t want to wind up in an emergency room before it’s time, I’d rather not have to be rushed to some Bermudan hospital because my insides have picked that week to make their final descent into the world. That is definitely NOT my idea of a fun vacation.

And an emergency hospitalization before we leave wouldn’t be any better. We’d not only have to cancel our own trip, but my co-worker would also have to cancel her long-awaited vacation so she can cover for my emergency leave. So, because I really hate ruining the lives of innocent bystanders, not to mention my own good time, this would be a totally uncool scenario to have to play out.

That’s why I’m now so conscientious of the movements I make that may strain or stress my body. I am careful not to laugh too heartily, cough or sneeze too vigorously, or strain too much.

In the coming weeks I’ll be talking to more doctors, researching on my own, taking it easy, and living as comfortably and simply as I can. As long as I can make it to my next doctor’s appointment at the end of this month, when Hubby and I can ask more questions and schedule my surgery, I’ll be happy. Decisions will be firmed up at that point and I’ll more confidently be able to move forward.

From a routine appointment I was tempted to cancel to a life altering medical diagnosis. Life sure does like to throw curve balls, huh? I just have to learn to adapt and prepare to make the smartest choices I can with the information I’m given.

A Year In Review

Amy Blanchard — Wed, 30 Aug 2006 13:57:18 +0000

Wow! I can hardly believe it, but this article marks my one- year anniversary of writing for Audacity Magazine. And what a year it’s been!

I took this opportunity to look back at some of the articles I’ve written here. I’ve covered a lot of ground, I’d say. I’ve discussed my pregnancy, my feelings on motherhood, and many of the joys and challenges I face as a mom everyday.

But what I haven’t talked too much about is what it was like for me in the early days, during Ella’s first year, to have a brand new infant and increasingly mobile baby in the house.

Whether it was bath time, feedings, or simply getting her from place to place, it was quite a learning experience. But with lots of help from family and friends, and adjustments to the “norm”, we managed pretty well.

First off, I had help right from the start. My mom graciously took an entire month off from work to spend her days with me, helping me on my maternity leave to care for my new daughter.

My day would start with my husband bringing Ella downstairs for me before he left for work. Soon my mom would arrive and she’d be there to do all the baby pacing and transporting. We’d go to baby doctor appointments together and visit friends and family. Bath time for baby happened when Nana was around too.

When baby went down for a nap (which is quite often for a newborn) mom was there to keep me company. We watched chick flicks, organized baby clothes, did craft projects and just had fun. We really bonded during this time – mom showing me the tips and tricks to soothe a cranky baby and comforting me when I felt overwhelmed.

Mom would leave for the day in time for hubby to come back home. Then the baby transporting and mobile comforting duties turned to him. And, boy, what a job!

For about the first 3 months, Ella was regularly cranky in the evening, inconsolably crying for hours on end. This meant lots of pacing for hubby with Ella in the classic football hold in his arms.

When he’d tire, I’d take over, rocking her side to side on the couch as I sang a soft, familiar tune in her ear (a tune I’d been singing throughout my pregnancy). Over time, Ella actually started to settle down much faster rocking with me then with any other method.

Middle of the night feelings was a partnership between my husband and me as well. Sweetie would wake and hubby would retrieve her, bringing her to me in bed to nurse. Hubby would rest again until Ella was fed, then he takes the happy, sleeping baby back to her crib. What a team!

Luckily, Ella didn’t wake us too often in the middle of the night. Once, maybe twice a night – that’s it. This was a wonderful thing because we sure were tired from our busy days!

I remember one instance where hubby was so exhausted after bringing Ella in for a midnight feeding that when I told him I was through and he could take her back to her crib, he didn’t believe me that Ella was with us. He had fallen back asleep and completely forgotten that he brought her to me in the first place! Hah! Can anyone say “zonked”?

As Ella grew and became mobile, new tricks were needed to keep her safe and contained.

I could bring her up and down the stairs myself by sitting her on my lap and scooting. She quickly learned to not squirm and wiggle, intuitively helping me out as we accomplished this feat together.

On weekends when Daddy was around but not necessarily with us, I needed to make sure I always knew where my new crawler was. Hubby installed baby gates at both entrances to our living room. This kept Ella in one room with me. And if I had to step out of the room for just a second, I was confident in knowing where she was and what she could and could not get herself into.

Another adjustment we had to make was to move her naptimes to a downstairs playpen instead of her upstairs crib. Since my husband was often busy and not reliably within calling distance, and I couldn’t easily get her up the stairs and across to her room, I’d put her down in her living room playpen to sleep.

Sure, this meant a dark, off-limits room for us as well as the need for Hubby and me to keep a low volume. But it worked for us, giving us time to read, relax and complete some quiet chores around the house.

As far as car trips went, Hubby again was “the mobility man”, transporting Sweetie and her car seat in and out of the house. Since he and I work together, getting Ella to daycare was a breeze. We’d all drive together for pick-ups and drop offs, me hauling in the diaper bag and hubby taking in Sweetie and her seat.

On the rare occasion when we had two cars for the day, I’d be the one to take and pick up Ella. We’d just tell our babysitter ahead of time so she was ready to meet us in the driveway. She was great about taking in the baby while I brought in her “stuff”. Likewise at pickup time, she was always happy to help me click her into place in the car.

From there, I’d head on over to my parents’ house. Since two cars usually meant Hubby was working late, and I couldn’t get Ella in the house on my own, a stop off at my parents’ allowed us to get that extra help we needed for the day. Then I’d head on home when I knew Hubby would be there to greet us and help us in.

I was also lucky enough to meet a new friend near our home who was happy to help out. She would help me get Ella in the car if ever I was home alone with her and had to leave for my parents’ house or somewhere else where I’d meet someone to help on the other end. Before this, my mom would have to drive the 20 minutes to our house just to help me for two minute’s time. So finding this wonderful friend was a real treat!

So, that was it. An eventful year with lots of developmental milestones met and lots of challenges faced and conquered. With the help of family and friends and with a little innovative thinking and flexibility, we got the job done and began the process of raising our happy, intelligent, inquisitive little girl.