Archive for December 2010
359 days
While most of us are looking forward,
wondering what the new year has in store
Noah laments that there is still such a long way to go until next Christmas.
I think 2011 will spin by so fast for him
that the tinsel and the stockings will be out again before he knows what has hit him.
Me?
I’m neither here nor there.
No anticipation, no regrets.
2010 was such a mixed bag -
I mean each year has been, who am I kidding.
In 2010, with your help,
we raised an unimaginable amount of money for the ward that Ivy spends so much time in.
I will be forever grateful
and in awe
of a group of people out there,
that I have come to consider my lifeline,
my support,
my friends.
I think, despite all of the hard stuff
that is how I will remember this year.
2010 – the year of Team Ivy;
the year of community.
Welcome 2011, may you be all that
and more.
A clip and a link.
There is so much to be said,
so many stories that I had to tell.
That was before Christmas, of course.
Before our last hospital stay.
Maybe I will tell those stories – the highs and lows
but tonight I want to show you this clip
and share the link to the segment on the ABC’s 7:30 Report (you can find it here, on the right sidebar, under the title ” greatest gift of all”).
I am very proud to be a part of it
and the Australian Red Cross Blood Service contacted us on Christmas Eve
to let us know that they had an amazing spike in phone calls and appointments made and hits to their website following the story.
I was very happy to hear that.
I also want to tell you all how thankful I am,
despite all of the sickness and sadness and misadventure.
I am thankful
for blood donors,
for the opportunities that Ivy has because of the gift of blood,
for all of the kindness and generosity that we have been shown,
for all of the endless amounts of support I am given as I walk this journey.
I am thankful for all of you.
Home for the holidays.
We made it home.
We made it through eight hours of panic shopping
and another four of wrapping.
We made it into bed at 3am
and started the celebrations at five.
I didn’t think we would be able to pull it off
but by some small miracle
we did
and Christmas happened
and I may have entirely lost the plot and cried a bit (a lot)
but I think,
just maybe
that was okay.
We made it to the beach
to have lunch with my mum
and even though the littlest girl could not go near the water
and tired very quickly
she decided that the day was fantastic
and magical
and more.
Just quietly, so did I.
May this season bring you love and laughter and light.
May there be joy in your days and hope in your heart.
From my family to yours,
where ever you are in this crazy, mixed up, beautiful world
Happy Christmas.
Miracle.
It has been (quietly) said that I just may get my Christmas wish.
Home.
The uttering started to get louder tonight when Ivy’s first culture
post port removal came back clear
and the echo of her heart yielded more good news.
The paed
( who has been there for Ivy and I every step of the way, this time)
is hopeful for a Wednesday discharge
and I am hopeful too.
Ivy will need to have a renal ultrasound to make sure her kidneys are not
damaged and another blood test to make sure the bacteremia
and the candidemia have left her system.
If those are both clear
we are going home for the holidays!
It’s not that simple of course.
Ivy will need to have ongoing treatment intravenously
but at least we can do it at home.
I haven’t promised the girl anything but today
when we went for our first walk around the hospital since our arrival
and breathed in the glorious sunshine
and danced in sparkly Christmas shoes ( her, not me)
I mentioned the word;
Home.
Home with my babies and my husband and my crazy busy life
that I have missed every single day.
Home with my girl.
Home to go panic shopping on Thursday for Friday’s Christmas Eve.
Home to attempt the festivities after all.
Home.
Never did any word sound so sweet.
I do believe in Christmas miracles it seems.