Ivy has been undergoing expansion and she has great big full "bubbles" now. She's been amazing through all of this. Each week she has endured more and more saline pushed into her expanders, forcing the growth of new healthy skin. My husband and I, along with my mom on a few of these weekly fills, have become pretty adept at this procedure. I, being the control "freak" that I am, actually did one solo. For the most part, life has hummed along fairly routinely. The boys have been in school; homework is overwhelming at times; there are multiple commitments that stretch us thin; the house seems like a constant mess; we have added new pets to the Forgiones ever growing population of unique and interesting reptiles and amphibians; Ivy had her first Halloween; Gabe played tackle football for the first time; Jairus has continued to be a rock star big brother helping out with Ivy in so many ways; Jade is learning to read words and write; Chris is busy with teaching kids to play music, and I've continued to try to keep everything running smoothly with my practice. What I want to illustrate is that expansion does not stop your life. You do adjust. I can remember seeing pictures of a few children undergoing expansion before Ivy. I was absolutely blown away at what I would see. The size of the expanders was incredible. It created a lot of fear and apprehension at times. Having gone through it myself now, I can say with 100% confidence that it has not been nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Bumps in the road? Yes. But, my greatest fears have not come to fruition. It just goes to show how important it is to be flexible and adaptable. This is not something I am typically very good at. It is the key to survival frankly.
Ivy experienced her first cold at 8 months, and then her first fever right afterwards. It was stressful but we survived it. We had a nice Thanksgiving despite her being sick again with cold #2. My parents came here instead of our usual tradition of going to their house. I didn't want Ivy traveling so close to her removal surgery which is scheduled for this coming Thursday, December 3. The biggest stressor came a week ago when her doctor heard a wheeze during her pre surgery physical. I thought we were out of the woods regarding possible asthma because she hasn't had any problems to date. Two brothers have asthma so I knew it was a possibility. I was devastated to hear this news. We had a week of nebulizer treatments and oral steroids. She was so agitated and it seemed like she wanted to crawl out of her skin at times. It’s hard to watch and not be able to fix or offer comfort. She went back yesterday and the doctor said her lungs are clear. Surgery is a go!
I want to focus on really exhaling my breath. I have been so tense for the last several months. My focus has heavily been on trying to keep Ivy well. Once again, that "need" to control everything. I crave a big EXHALE. A full and long EXHALE. I make attempts but I’m not there yet. I cried for the first time yesterday. I don't cry much. I feel emotions heavily but rather than cry, I usually experience my emotions in a much less healthy way. I wish I cried more. It feels good actually. I cried as I stroked her fuzzy brown cheeks. These cheeks, this nose, this forehead. This face has brought me so much joy for the past almost nine months. I feel sad knowing I am saying goodbye to her sweet face the way I have come to love it and know it. What lies ahead?? How bad will the scarring be? What will happen with her nasal flap? What will the surgeon do with her eyelid? Will it look normal? Will it ever look normal? Not knowing is hard. The unknown....and then I think everything into the "worst" case scenario. I have tried to strengthen my faith through this process, diligently asking God to keep Ivy safe, and to guide the surgeon's hands on Thursday. I realize that I have no control over these things. But I do control my exhale. I would be wise to put more focus on that. "Robin, just breath." Less focus on making myself mad by attempting to be in control of so much that I will never control. The chips are going to fall where they may. We have made wise, well thought out decisions. We know we have done the best thing for Ivy. In the meantime, I hope I can cry. I want to feel what I'm feeling in a more healthy way.
I am scared about Thursday. I do ask for your continued thoughts and prayers. I hope that I can hold it together in the waiting room. I hope I can hold it together when I lay my eyes on her for the first time in the recovery room. I ask for and pray for strength. I hope I can remind myself why I made this choice. I hope I can give myself plenty of permission to be sad and scared, but hopeful and optimistic.
I am continually overwhelmed at the support we have. I feel so much love….so much love.
Peace be with all of you. I ask for my own peace.
Ivy experienced her first cold at 8 months, and then her first fever right afterwards. It was stressful but we survived it. We had a nice Thanksgiving despite her being sick again with cold #2. My parents came here instead of our usual tradition of going to their house. I didn't want Ivy traveling so close to her removal surgery which is scheduled for this coming Thursday, December 3. The biggest stressor came a week ago when her doctor heard a wheeze during her pre surgery physical. I thought we were out of the woods regarding possible asthma because she hasn't had any problems to date. Two brothers have asthma so I knew it was a possibility. I was devastated to hear this news. We had a week of nebulizer treatments and oral steroids. She was so agitated and it seemed like she wanted to crawl out of her skin at times. It’s hard to watch and not be able to fix or offer comfort. She went back yesterday and the doctor said her lungs are clear. Surgery is a go!
I want to focus on really exhaling my breath. I have been so tense for the last several months. My focus has heavily been on trying to keep Ivy well. Once again, that "need" to control everything. I crave a big EXHALE. A full and long EXHALE. I make attempts but I’m not there yet. I cried for the first time yesterday. I don't cry much. I feel emotions heavily but rather than cry, I usually experience my emotions in a much less healthy way. I wish I cried more. It feels good actually. I cried as I stroked her fuzzy brown cheeks. These cheeks, this nose, this forehead. This face has brought me so much joy for the past almost nine months. I feel sad knowing I am saying goodbye to her sweet face the way I have come to love it and know it. What lies ahead?? How bad will the scarring be? What will happen with her nasal flap? What will the surgeon do with her eyelid? Will it look normal? Will it ever look normal? Not knowing is hard. The unknown....and then I think everything into the "worst" case scenario. I have tried to strengthen my faith through this process, diligently asking God to keep Ivy safe, and to guide the surgeon's hands on Thursday. I realize that I have no control over these things. But I do control my exhale. I would be wise to put more focus on that. "Robin, just breath." Less focus on making myself mad by attempting to be in control of so much that I will never control. The chips are going to fall where they may. We have made wise, well thought out decisions. We know we have done the best thing for Ivy. In the meantime, I hope I can cry. I want to feel what I'm feeling in a more healthy way.
I am scared about Thursday. I do ask for your continued thoughts and prayers. I hope that I can hold it together in the waiting room. I hope I can hold it together when I lay my eyes on her for the first time in the recovery room. I ask for and pray for strength. I hope I can remind myself why I made this choice. I hope I can give myself plenty of permission to be sad and scared, but hopeful and optimistic.
I am continually overwhelmed at the support we have. I feel so much love….so much love.
Peace be with all of you. I ask for my own peace.