6 months!

This blog has been lonely for a while. Sorry about that. I've been sewing and watching West Wing a lot, so my computer has been occupied, as have my hands for typing. But, today is December 19! I'm sure this holds a lot of significance to you, but for us, or me rather, it's 6 months since Ivy's surgery. And y'all, I'm having mad flashbacks of when we found out about her condition a year ago. Christmas last year was tender to say the least. I didn't know so many things about Ivy and her life, so we cherished so much of it. My mom knew this feeling I was having a flew out to spend that holiday with us. Mom of the year award, right there.

We had Ivy's one year well check, 3 weeks late, which fell on the day we found out about her cranio, one year ago. (Did that even make sense?) My doctor, with whom I love, asked how Ivy was doing, and I can't really complain even though she's a touch fussy and clingy. I said to her doctor, "She's good, she's alive." HEAVY MEL!!! But my doctor understood what I meant. And she goes, "Yes, she is! And doing so well, but let's look at her ears while we have her here." So, Ivy had a ear infection, but y'all, a year ago, she needed x-rays and an emergency CT scan of her skull, so, having to grab an antibiotic was much easier than driving to the hospital with a world of unknowns on the horizon. Like, sheesh, what's that expression these days? ALL THE FEELS!

I do love Ivy. I love what her life has done to me. I'm completely selfish with her. She just wants to be held all day or play at my feet or cry at 2:00am for some extra snuggles. And I really do love it. It's super cheesy when mom's say "can they just stay small forever?" But, truth be told, that's all I want in the world with my Ivy. She took 2 steps on Sunday and 4 steps yesterday, and I wanted to push her down so that she never walks and I can just hold her forever. Oh my gosh, I'm absurd.

Ivy's scar barely shows now, and the dissolvable lego pieces they put to keep her skull plates apart only leave tiny bumps near her temples. (Obviously I don't know what they are called, but Dr. Mom called them lego pieces.) And some days, I don't think about. She's one of the girls, playing and goofing with the rest of them. But sometimes, she's that one month old who was recently told that she was deformed and my arms were the only thing to protect her from the world. I told Ken that I don't know why I want to keep her a baby so badly, and he said that for months that baby stage was peppered with a lot of fear and worry, and those milestones held different meanings. He said I didn't get that "normal" baby time like with the other two because there was this lingering Thing hovering over us.

But that's gone! No more hovering! But the memories of this year are fresh and I hope I ever forget how intense that time all was. A year ago, I was so scared yet so hopeful. And today, I'm just incredibly thankful.

Didn't I say that I was done blogging about Ivy's cranio? Ha, yeah right.

a month before surgery

A couple other posts about my girl and her cranio, if emotions are fun for you. 

HERE, HERE, and HERE