Throwback Thursday

You know the feeling right before you cry?  Like you can feel your heart breaking, your chest is heavy and the feeling moves to your throat.  Sometimes you can calm yourself down but if you think more about it the feeling moves from your throat to your nose, your eyes start to water and it's over. 

Last week was Fiona's follow up with Neurology.  Her MRI was normal a couple years ago and she's made so much progress since then that I wanted to give her a little break from all the appointments.  It had been a year since she was last there so I just wanted to check in.  I really love her neurologist; he's amazing... and somehow, I think he may even remember us; if he doesn't, he's an amazing liar, but he remembers her.  He's part of the neuromuscular clinic at CHOP; I feel so lucky to have found him because he takes time to get to know Fiona and to really evaluate her and I respect his opinions and recommendations. 

The last time we saw him he couldn't believe how far she had come.  I was hoping that last week's appointment would be the same.  But it wasn't.  It's heartbreaking to learn that your child is struggling, but when they start to make progress you just want to hear that they're getting better.  Her brain was normal, we have come so far... and at the very end of the meeting he tells me he hears a murmur.  He wants a consult with cardiology, ophthalmology, a sleep study and a repeat MRI. 

I'm sick of hurdles.  I don't want to face any more hurdles with this little girl.  I wish it was me instead.  I wish it was me who needed all these tests done.  I wish my eyes crossed instead of hers.  I wish I had to crawl up the steps. 

She is resilient.  Some have tried to comfort me saying "she's perfect"... she's perfect alright: she's perfectly stubborn, she has perfect selective hearing, she has a perfect outdoor voice that mostly gets used indoors, I know she doesn't understand what she's going through and I know she probably doesn't care.  More than anything I think she loves all the individualized attention she gets at therapy.  But when we've worked so hard, I want the doctor to say: She looks good. Keep doing what you're doing. 

So this morning was our ophthalmology appointment.  We were there for four hours.  I scheduled it for 7:30 a.m. thinking we'd be the first in... it's hit or miss... it was a miss this time.  I was so worried about waking up and getting there on time that it wasn't until we were on time and on our way that it dawned on me: I don't know if I can hear that something else is wrong.  My chest got heavy and the tears started to well... but wait! Wired 96.5 is having Throwback Thursday... and I'll be damned.. Backstreet's back alright!  Thank God I just went back to high school.  I can still see Gina Peracchia and Kristin Mangam in the halls with their headphones listening to BSB... I cannot believe that anyone ever put these lyrics together and seriously thought "this is a hit!"...

I turn onto Chestnut and yes, that's right I'm a "Ghetto Supastar, that is what you are, come away with me, to a better place we can rely on each otha unh hunh"  I am a ghetto supastar, as I roll down the streets of west philly... yeah girl... Fiona and I are dancin'... I still got it... look at me driving with one hand, damn I'm good. 

About to turn onto 34th street... "last song of Throwback Thursday, maybe this is what you need on your way into camp or work or wherever you're going this morning: N'Sync" ... YES!  "God must've spent a little more time on you" ...NO!  PLEASE NO!  This was going so well...

"Can this be true, tell me can this be real"... God, I love this little girl...
"How can I put into words what I feel"... she'll never know how much I love her....
"My life was complete, I thought I was whole, Why do I feel like I'm losing control"... I wish I could take this from her...

"I never thought that love could feel like this
Then you changed my world with just one kiss
How can it be that right here with me
There's an angel, it's a miracle"... she is my little angel baby... she was my baby girl dream come true... a little mini-me with spunk and attitude and work-ethic... she's a fighter, this little baby girl... she's better than I was... and I'm better because of her... and we'll get better together, whether she wears glasses or crawls up the steps or whatever...

"... Your soul is like a secret that I never could keep"... I hope everyone you meet knows how special you are... and if they don't, be sure to tell them...
"When I look in your eyes I know that it's true: God must have spent a little more time on you." ... I don't know why I got her, and I don't know why she came like this, but if I couldn't have bared the burden myself, I can at least try to take her load off... 

 

I know there are children worse-off and I'm grateful that Fiona's condition is manageable, as far as we know, but every appointment we go to, whether it's therapy or a specialist... or even a trip to the grocery store or a play-date or a family party, I'm holding my breath: How is this gonna go?   And I think that about her life: How's it gonna go?  She has special needs, so did God spend a little more time on her?  He sure as hell did, because this baby was born a champion, she's a supastar,, ghetto or not... and she's gonna dance... and she'll probably drive with one hand... so I guess I got my answer... it's gonna be fine. 

 

Wired 96.5.... you brought me up, you brought me down, you brought me center... but it's gonna be fine. 

 

The new three

Whenever I am faced with someone in need, I always try to help.  I can't help but to help; I can't resist.  I feel blessed to be a fighter.  I feel blessed. period.  I am so fortunate and to be in the presence of someone less fortunate, I can't resist the desire to help.

Dave came home a couple of weeks ago telling me that he wants to help his friend from work.  I only half listen to his work stories because a lot of the time it's all gossip and hear-say and it gets on my nerves.  What Dave wanted to get out of the conversation was my approval to spend time at his friend's house helping him refinish the basement for his teenage niece/nephew whose parents were screwed up and this kid is now staying with Dave's buddy.  Fine.  Of course, he can help his friend, especially for a good cause.  What I took from the conversation is that this teenager also has three siblings who are in foster care and if they don't find a permanent home by October, they will probably be split up. 

I can't let that happen.  I don't know all the details, but I can't walk away without getting the details and at least trying to help.  I responded to Dave's story saying "of course we can help!  We'll take them!"  Since then I have made comments here and there to Dave about how "Mary Elizabeth can't wait to meet her new brothers and sister" or "We'll have to get the basement ready for our new three."  Dave told me he'd get to that right after the divorce and he'll take the original three (over my dead body) but you should all know by now that that's how Dave and I communicate.

Anyway, so I haven't really stopped thinking about these kids... I can't. 

The first time I felt responsible for other people's children was after Hurricane Ike in 2008.  On the news they were showing people from Philadelphia bringing Haitian orphans to America.  After watching it I said to Dave "Should we take one?"  At the time it was more like a whisper.

When I was pregnant with Fiona, after I found out she was a girl, I was inspired to give her the best little girl room.  So I learned to sew and I made almost everything in her room.  I made it because we didn't have any money and it dawned on me that every kid deserves a cool room.  Some parents aren't crafty or may not have the resources (financial or otherwise) but there was no reason that any kid couldn't have a great space.  So I started thinking about wanting to help children by creating beautiful spaces for them... where they could become positive products of their environment.  Dave and I started running through ideas and building a business plan.  But I couldn't do it for profit and a non-profit costs money to start, so I put it on the back burner... it's now a little bit louder than a whisper...

I started to blog shortly after the "birth" of Products of Environment and I mentioned in a previous post that I wanted to help less fortunate children.  Lately it's been bugging me that my children have SO MANY TOYS... it's disgusting... I don't think they appreciate them, they don't even play with them properly... most of the time the just take them out, throw the pieces around and then call it a mess for mommy to clean up.  I make them clean it up when I have the time and energy and patience, but most of the time, I end up cleaning it up.  I've threatened David that I would throw away the broken toys and give the rest to the poor kids.  I want my children to value their belongings and take care of them.  But I also don't want to use generosity as a punishment... I want them to realize how fortunate they are and be willing to sacrifice something for someone else.  I want them to understand that the greater gift is the opportunity to give.  How do I teach that to a 3 and 4 year old?! 

So now back to these three siblings.... Dave is like my father: anything I say his initial response is always "No."  But having grown up with my father, I'm practically a master litigator.  I've said "what if these were our children, I wouldn't want them split up."  That wasn't enough.  I started to look up fostering children in Pennsylvania and I'll be damned, don't they have a waiting children list?! As I'm going through this list, I'm just thinking that these kids don't need toys, they need love.  And the system needs salesmen to help find these kids homes.  I've seen on the news "Wednesday's child", which is an amazing program, but besides trying to sell the kids, someone needs to sell the idea of loving these children; to whatever capacity one is able. 

So should I foster these children?  Is adopting them the right thing?  I don't know!  Dave worries about affording it, but we've always worked it out.  And how will it affect our children?  Our children will be better for it.  What if the kids are sick?  Would we turn away a sick child!?!  What if they find out we're crazy.  Well, if we can't do it, then we won't.... but this is one of those cases where I truly believe "God's will be done".  I said to Dave, "we are so blessed, we have this beautiful house and family and we have a great support system of family and friends... I can't know about something like this and turn my back to it, I can't knowingly walk away without at least trying to help."

Whether or not we end up adopting these children or fostering them or hopefully their mother will be able to take them back or maybe someone else might read this and be in an even better position than I to help these kids.  Maybe the best way I can help is to spread awareness about this situation.  I recently watched Our America with Lisa Ling about the foster children in LA; in the beginning they showed an older sister saying goodbye to her younger brother who was placed somewhere and she was left behind... these kids don't know their fates, and not only are they worried about their own fates, but the fates of their siblings.  They don't need a designer home, designer clothes, shiny toys or perfect families.... they need each other, they need us... you and me and all the regular people who know other regular people who might be able to find them a room. 

The Holy Family is knocking on your door... which inn keeper are you?