Thursday, August 8, 2013

The inevitable reality

I felt glad that I had opted for the "safe" route just in case. I heaved a slight sigh at the lack of adventure in my menu choice, but felt it was worth it for the stress and worry it would save. And i like burgers well enough; better sate than sorry.  That's when I noticed; sesame seeds.  And that's when it hit me. This is going to be a bit rough. But at least we have answers.

After months of suspicion based on my own experience, and bouncing from doctor to doctor being told there was "no chance" that it was allergies, I finally held in my hand the results of a blood test performed two weeks ago. The doctor's scrawl across the cover page read "positive for sesame and nuts, beans." 

My baby is allergic.

This is something I have dreaded since before I became a mother, and have poured hours upon hours upon days reading about, researching, trying to feel out the best way to prevent my children from developing the issue my own genetic makeup has predisposed them to. In fact, it was the very thing that tipped the scales for me in feeling that I should not tempt fate by having any more biological children.

The fates were evidently meant to be tempted, however, because none of us could picture life without Calliope...she has already changed the World for the better. But, as in any proper Greek myth, when you tempt the fates, you usually lose, and in this, we lost.

Fortunately for my little muse, we are uniquely prepared to deal with this particular affliction, since I am, as one doctor put it "just an allergic individual," and have been dealing with allergies ranging from serious to mild since I was born, and I know how to manage them and what it takes to do so.  (In fact, in establishing myself as a patient with this same doctor, she had me retake a bunch of allergy tests to establish a baseline, and -after deciding they couldn't test for everything I seemed "at risk" for because it would require too many pricks-did a blood test for a few anomalous results. The cover sheet on my records, in stark contrast to Callie's, was a list of things that hey, between the skin prick test and the blood test, I might actually NOT be allergic to!  What were they? Almonds, Brazil nuts, and swordfish. Yup, all of three things.)

Anyway, this is both disheartening, and empowering. It's awful, but I also feel oddly able to roll with this. It feels almost inevitable, like I've been preparing for this my whole life and now here we go, game on, lets make it happen. And who knows, maybe within her lifetime, allergies such as these will become cure able, or at least less debilitating. God I hope so.

Callie's results went on to say that we need to avoid sesame, peanut, almond, cashew, pistachio, all other nuts, peas...and a note at the bottom says "she's slightly positive for lentils and soy. We'll repeat in 6 months."  So that's where we are at...I need to call the doctor and consult with her about the severity and specific course of action, but in the meantime we are looking at our family's diet and seeing some major changes that we will need to make. The nuts are actually easy, as I share all if those allergies to an anaphylactic degree, our home is already nut free. The peas, beans and sesame, however, have been a major staple, so this means some big changes. 

We are up to the task though. This little lady is more than worth it, and we are ready to take on this challenge. 

You have no idea how much love I have for you, Calliope. I am gonna do everything in my power to give you the tools to keep yourself safe for the the rest of your long, fulfilling life, baby girl. Your corner is stacked with some fierce advocates, and we won't back down. 

Enjoy the ride, my awesome child.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Growing vocabularies

Overheard just now: Cadence and Hazel discussing the lunch options at their pretend restaurant. One of the options was a "rustic chicken soup."

They have been a veritable fountain of cute verbose ness lately... 

Yesterday I was explaining to Hazel why a certain cup wouldn't work for what we were doing, but I was distracted and not speaking fluidly, so Cadence swooped in and said "it's just not efficient." And Hazel said "ooooh. Ok. But which one will work better?"

This was the morning after Cadence had confided to me that she was torn between reading her chapter book and listening to NPR before bedtime.

Even little Calliope, though she doesn't technically speak yet, talks without specific vocab all the time, and means it when she says mama and baba, and we've heard her say things that sound uncannily like "jiejie" and tickle...and she's begun signing too, and can ask me for milk when she wants it.

They are all growing up so very fast.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Moments of Magic

Calliope Sage Yu, Circus Star!

When I first connected photographer Anthony Collins with Aerial Artist Polly Solomon, I never expected to even be present for the shoot, let alone to come away with such a profoundly magical image that makes this proud mama's heart melt...I love that my life is such that this is the kind of thing that just spontaneously happens.

Polly (pictured) claims she's a terrible influence on my children. If by that she means that she is an incredible inspiration and teacher, well then she is absolutely right.

Thank you, Polly and Anthony, for making this happen.  And an extra shout-out to Anthony for seeing the potential for this spectacular moment, and getting us all to go for it. Amazing!

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Three years

It's after midnight, which means it is officially my sweet little Hazel Amazel's third birthday. I can't believe what a ride this has been...she challenges me in so many important ways, and brings me so much more joy and heart-exploding fulfillment than I could have ever possibly fathomed.

Thank you so so so so much, my awesome child. You bring me more pride than you will probably ever know, and your spirit is a constant inspiration. Thank you for being your fantastic, thoughtful, scarily intelligent and capable self, and sharing this crazy journey with us.

Happy Birthday oh mighty Hazelnut. I hug you with my soul in every moment.

Friday, February 1, 2013

A beautiful link to blue school

I dont usually post unabashed links to other blogs, but this one is worthy of the exception. I talk a lot about Blue School, and how much these kids of ours adore it - and how much we, as parents, also love it and are so grateful for (and to) the community the school holds - so when I read the most recent post from Allison Gaines Pell, the head of the school, I was inspired to share it here. It is just one example of why we feel that jury-rigging our lives around giving our kids this opportunity is so worth it.

So, without further ado, here is Allison's beautiful post, entitled:  Jealousy


Monday, January 28, 2013

Dear Calliope: month 2

Dear Calliope,

Hello my dear, sweet girl. I love you so much, so deeply, so unimaginably immensely...you are sleepily nursing in my arms as I type this with one thumb on my iPhone, and the splendid, awe inspiring reality of you is more than I can take. You are so amazing, my super smiley, chipmunk cheeked little girl...I look back now to the time around when you were conceived, and I cannot believe that I ever thought our family was complete without you. Cannot fathom how I could ever possibly have feared your arrival. You, my dear, are an incalculably necessary piece in our family puzzle, and a part of my life that I simple could not do without. There is was a big blot of inexplicable emptiness in me that I used to try in vain to fill with new ideas, but now I find brimming with inspiration and ability...it was you, that's what I was missing...my third child, my little muse, who smiled and laughed right from the start. Who delights so much in being with her older sisters, who of course dote on her with such pride and love. Who will giggle at the tickle of her baba's beard and snuggle into the arms of the many people who love her so.
You, my little Calliope, have given me the gift of believing in myself in a way that transcends "impossible" like never before. I can't wait to see how you will grow, and how our family -and each of us individually-will transform as your gifts and strengths and fears emerge. We all love you like you'd never believe.
Sweet child, thank you for letting us share this adventure with you, and for sharing this journey with us.

I love you beyond forever and back.
Love always,
Mama

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Mommy

My mom has a great laugh.

Historically, it's one of those things that you don't get to hear all that often.  She'll grin, chuckle, sort of giggle at things pretty often, but her full on, hearty laugh is a magical sound, one that makes your heart feel happy to the core, and it's an elusive phenomenon which gets obscured by stress, work, and her propensity for putting other people before herself.

It's this laugh that I intend to focus on from here on out.

Last night, mom's medical oncologist confirmed that she now has stage 4 metastatic cancer, the disease is no longer curable, and now it's a game of balancing treatment to prolong her life with restraint to provide her a quality of life worth living.

We don't know how long she has.  It could be weeks.  It could be years.

I, for one, am not ready to look at this as an end.  Not yet, anyway.  For now, I'm looking at this as a sign to shift gears; from here on out, let's try to make life as pleasant as possible, and hope we have the burden of keeping that outlook for years.

Let's make that laugh our new priority.  Finding that laugh will be our guide -whatever will bring us closer to hearing it is what we'll do.  Let's fill the world with as much of that sound as we possibly can.

Wherever she wants to be, I want to get her there.  Whatever she wants to learn, to eat, to experience, I want to find her a teacher, a chef, a friend.  Some things may be beyond comfort - tobagganing might be more painful than thrilling these days - but so what?  I don't care to focus on the "can't" anymore.  There is sooo much out there, so many other things that could generate such joy that it doesn't matter what she can't do now - there will always be something else that she can do, which may just tickle that laugh into existence.  And that is what matters.

So let's go forth, and enjoy.  There will be tears, of course-there will always be tears, but we will let them fall, and be glad that they can be shed, and then get up and return to our quest for that laugh.  And every time we find it, we'll count it as a triumph, and begin the search again.

I love you so much, mom.  Thank you, so much, for letting me share this journey with you.  I am so glad that I have such a wonderful role model in you, someone who taught me how to be a great mother to my own daughters, who let me grow and flourish in such a way that I never had the years of teenage resentment towards you that so many girls have towards their moms.  I am so thankful that I can still turn to you every day, for advice, for memory, for love, support or a joke...

I appreciate having you in my life so much - am so unbelievably grateful to have you in my life - in every moment, and I will continue to cherish every moment that I have with you for as long as I possibly can.  And I will still benefit from being your daughter long after that.  And my girls will continue to benefit from being your granddaughters long after I'm gone, too.

I wish you peace, in every step of this journey, and my heart will be with you for all of it, even where my feet can't follow.

So let's get started.

What would you like to do first?