I have a few more hydro mom blogs I've been saving in my back pocket. Even though it's not National Hydrocephalus Awareness month anymore, it's still so neat to hear these lady's beautiful stories.
Meet Lindsey of Musings of a Hydro Mom. Lindsey blogs about her family and adorable little Marlena. I love her openness and honesty about some really tough subjects (see the last question in this interview, it will make you cry). I also love her heart for advocacy and spreading awareness. And her Hats for Hydro are such a great idea and are so cute!
Tell us about your
family. If your child has multiple diagnosis, feel free to share them.
I have a family of four, including myself, husband of ten
years, and two beautiful children. Vincent is my rambunctious two-year-old and
Marlena is my sweet 9-month-old girl living with congenital hydrocephalus.
Tell us about the
moment you were told your child had hydrocephalus.
We never heard the word "hydrocephalus" from a
doctor on our diagnosis day. We were sent home with the words "massive
ventriculomegaly." We were able to see a maternal-fetal-medicine
specialist on the same day, which was supposed to be a routine, uneventful
fetal anatomy scan at our OB's office, which to me was only being performed to
know the sex of my perfectly healthy child. I was oblivious to the fact that it
was really being done to seek out flaws in our baby. I just wasn't prepared to
be called back into a back room. What the doctor said it a blur.
"Concerns. The baby's brain," to which I replied, "Should I be
crying right now?" The seriousness still hadn't hit me. I just wasn't
grasping it. I wanted a name for what was wrong. The OB couldn't tell me his
thoughts, but on the order for our level II ultrasound, were scribbled the
words "possible holoprosencephaly." Holoprosencephaly, or HPE, is a
condition where the two hemispheres of the brain fails to separate to some
degree if not completely. Marlena was found to not have this diagnosis a couple
months later via fetal MRI. We were offered termination of our pregnancy the very
same day of our level II ultrasound. After I went home, I began researching
"massive ventriculomegaly" on the internet. I found support that very
same night when I found pictures of many smiling faces of happy children living
with hydrocephalus.
How has hydrocephalus
affected your daily life? Maybe give one "real life" example.
Of course there are therapy appointments and neurosurgery
follow-ups that weren't there as my son went through infancy, but the
appointments become routine quickly. The only thing I haven't been able to
completely shake is the constant anxiety of a shunt malfunction or sudden onset
of seizure activity.
Share a moment when
you were frustrated or discouraged
So far, pregnancy was the hardest part of our journey. There
is just so much unknown. There are so many wide possibilities and so much fresh
information. A moment when I discouraged was when I was told that it would
probably be best to not have a baby shower until Marlena was born.
Share a moment when
you found joy or hope
I felt such amazing joy in my heart when some girls at
church threw Marlena a surprise baby shower just weeks before she was born.
Their faith never waned.
What do you do to
keep your sanity? How do you take a break?
I love to crochet! The repetition is soothing and I just
love being creative. I also love that Fall is just around the corner and taking
a brisk walk is always good for a mind break.
What advice would you
give to a family who has just received a new diagnosis of hydrocephalus?
Never lose hope. There is never a reason not to have hope!
I would strongly suggest they visit this website, created by
Michelle Higgins:
How do you deal with
difficult questions from onlookers?
I stay open minded. Marlena's head is different, but I've
become so used to it, I don't usually realize how different it is until she's
next to a baby with an averagely sized head. Living with hydrocephalus
definitely shapes a new version of what's "normal" to you, and
possibly not so "normal" to others. If someone asked me about
Marlena, I would be more than happy to explain what she has and how it affects
our family.
What is one thing you
wish families with typical situations realized about families dealing with
special needs?
Children with special needs aren't so different than
children without special needs. They are loved, fought for, and kissed
goodnight just like any child should be.
What is your dream
getaway (either family, couple, or by yourself. . . or all three)?
I absolutely love Cherokee, NC during the middle of Fall.
What is your child's
favorite toy/therapy tool?
Marlena's favorite toy is her wipes case! Closed, of course,
but the particular brand we usually buy is encased in a crinkly plastic. She
loves to hear the crinkling noise.
What is your favorite
coffee (or coffee alternative) drink?
I personally love a Dunkin Donuts Caramel Iced Latte, no
sugar, with whip.
Tell us about Hats for Hydro
Hats For Hydro is something that
I'm just now trying to lift off the ground! My goal is to provide every little
one facing hydrocephalus at birth a cozy crocheted hat. One of the most
noticeable side effects of fetal hydrocephalus is often, but not always, an
enlarged head size. Often times, there aren't any baby hats that will fit a
newborn with hydrocephalus. I wish to change that for all of our miracles. I
was inspired by a pretty pink knit hat in our NICU that stretched around my darling
36 wk newborn's 42 cm nogging.
One theme on your blog is "divine appointments". You had a
major turning point during your pregnancy where you went from considering
terminating your pregnancy to wholeheartedly wanting to sustain it. Can you
tell us about that decision process? Tell us about the moment that changed your
mind.
The worst three days of my
pregnancy were the three days that I contemplated termination. I was a
hypocrite. It went against everything I always proclaimed. The decision really
does feel a lot different when it directly concerns your personal real life
matters. I felt like a murderer by thinking about it, even though I hadn't yet
allowed anyone to harm my child. I asked many questions on our diagnosis day.
"Will she be able to walk? Talk? Form relationships?" The answer to
all of my questions was, "I don't know." Except for one. "Will
she have any chance to have a normal life?" The answer to this one was,
"No."
During the night of that third
day, I was driving back to my mom's house to pick up Vincent after dropping my
husband off to work. I was having such a hard time. I was so lost, in such
absolute despair. I saw a church with a lot of cars. I was crying hysterically
when I drove up, parked my car, and walked up to the doors where some men were
in a group talking. They looked at me, with concerned expressions, and escorted
me inside. Tears still stained my face incessantly, one after the other, as if
they were racing gravity to get down my face. I was hurting. I was alone. I was
crushed. My baby, who we thought for those euphoric fifteen minutes in the
waiting room was perfectly healthy, was sick. Her future was uncertain.
I found peace that night, as a
woman took me into a room alone. She took both of my hands into both of her
hands. As I continued to explain what was going on with my baby's brain, she
stopped me mid-sentence and said, "Sweetie, that's called hydrocephalus.
I'm a nurse." I was a little bit shocked. Looking back, I view this
meeting as a divine appointment. I looked up to her, in the most girlish,
painstakingly hoarse voice, "If I abort this baby, is that murder?"
She paused for a moment and said,
"God
breathed life into your baby."
I felt like these words were being spoken through her by
Jesus himself. The conviction in her soft, pleasant voice when she spoke this
sentence flowed into my soul. I didn't just hear these words, I felt them. She
took me into the main area of the church where they were having a special guest
speaker that night. I cried the rest of the night, holding both hands on my big
belly, praying for a miracle. My family was pretty angry with me after I got
home, because I didn't exactly tell anyone where I was or what I was doing. I
just had to go. I had to find out more about the only One I had to turn to. Now
I know that He is real. Miracles are still happening. Jesus is still working
through people to help us. I am so, so thankful.
1 comment:
Julie, I love reading your blog. And thank you for all the "Hydro Mom" stories; each one is uniquely beautiful!!
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