Nine Lessons in Nine Years

Kelsey soon celebrates nine years of life.  Each of her nine years has been unique.  She has endured so many inquiries, tests, and circumstances, many of them we as adults may not have experienced.  To put it another way, it has been a journey.   Each year of the journey has taught us something new.  We are grateful for each year and the lessons we learned.

Year One taught us resilience.  We spent 16 days hospitalized and torn apart as a family, each in pain with worry, concern, and lacking a diagnosis.  By the first birthday celebration, we bounced back ready to learn more and find an answer.  Each one of us was forever changed by the experiences that we can never fully explain.

Year Two taught us to advocate.  In year one, we listened to poor medical advice and waited on others to seek solutions.  Year one was painful.  Year Two was the year of advocating.  Remember to be your own advocate and advocate for your children’s needs, always.  No one will ever care as much as you.  We did not accept, “she is fine!” and we sought answers instead of waiting for them to come to us.

Year Three taught us to listen.  Year Three gave us a diagnosis.  We thought that would make life easier, but instead, it led us to more questions and further complexities.  Medication battles with insurance and a true inability to process how little we knew made us listen more and savor small moments.  Upon one biopsy that resulted in a huge incision on the neckline, the surgeon soothed a mother’s worry about the scar to say, “We have to make sure she sees her next birthday.  This scar will help us figure out how to get her there.”  Listen.  Trust.  Breathe.  That was Year Three.

Year Four taught us promise.  There was so much promise in the medication we were using and so much happiness and joy brought back to our life when the medication started to work for our child.  A child who was once lifeless and listless was running and climbing stairs.  Promise and joy were restored in many of Year Four’s moments.

Year Five taught us Vulnerability.  We began this journey with Kelsey’s Kaleidoscope and we started to tell our story.  We put ourselves out there and started to spread awareness and raise money for our foundation.  We connected with others who shared our story.  We were weak when Kelsey took a tough turn and faced the return of frequent hospital visits and scans.  We had a fridge full of medication that no longer eased pain or brought joy.  We were vulnerable and scared.

Year Six taught us patience.  We trusted and prayed and after eight months of changes, a calm came for Kelsey.  She was walking, running, and smiling with ease.  We were patient and we were grateful.

Year Seven taught us endurance.  The road had been long and pain Kelsey started to feel emotionally and physically transferred to each member of her family in some way.  We laughed, we cried, and we got each other through.  It was not without a long road and another failed medication.  Spots, weakness, and pain returned to bruise emotions and bodies.

Year Eight taught us hope.  We were beyond touched by the community efforts and new faces that learned of our journey and cared.  We published a book, we went on television, and we reflected on where we are at this time.  We have hope and gratitude.

Year Nine is unknown and undefied.  Together, we are ready to persevere and lift each other.  We plan ahead and dream big.  We thank you for your support and kindness.  We wish Kelsey a happy ninth birthday and pray for all of her wishes to come true.

Whatever It Takes

Picture a day of quality time in the happiest place on Earth.  You see smiling faces and a little bit of magic awaits you around every corner.

As grateful and happy as I was to spend time in this land of happiness, I could not escape a hint of sadness as my seven year old could not take it.  Sensory sensitivity is becoming apparent in various ways and there was certainly a great deal of that happening at every turn.

The standing, the walking, and the lines were just too much for her to take.

Though she looked the part in every way, her body told her it was on overload.  We found many magical things to do while waiting for her brother to ride and explore with sheer delight.  We took a much slower pace and took many breaks.  While we waited, Make a Wish kids and others who were also facing a challenge passed by us.  For those children and my own daughter, I struggled at times to face a cold, hard fact.  My child could not experience this trip like many other children her age do.

Her legs could not handle the walking and the weight of her on my back more times than expected was just a realization that careful considerations and thought must go into every thing for Kelsey; happy times included.

In the end, she found  a heroine in Star Wars’ Rey and there was one souvenir she just had to have.  Holding her father’s hand at a point when she felt strong and confident, she strolled with pride.

In this moment, I was happy.  She is a warrior and for her, I will do:

“Whatever it takes
You take me to the top, I’m ready for
Whatever it takes,” Imagine Dragons, Whatever It Takes

Whatever It Takes. For you.  Always.

The Warrior

She does whatever she seeks.

She achieves whatever she sets her mind out to do.

She is strong, powerful, and fierce.

Soft on the outside but tough as nails inside.

She perseveres.

She endures.

She is kind.

Wise beyond her years, she stands tall and proud.

As she and I stood still in Warrior Two pose, I smiled as I watched my strong, fierce warrior whose strong exterior fools the world with the inner pain and angst she faces.

But the joke was on me as we completed our workout and she said, “Mom, you remind me of the warrior because you are strong and always reach your goals.  I’m so proud of you.”

I guess the apple doesn’t fall far.  I was left speechless.

To my warrior and greatest goal yet to be reached, we pray, hope, and continue to research a way to cure your warrior body’s inner battle.