Bubble = Popped

It's been awhile, but today I did it. I had myself a pity party (balloon free, of course). How can you love your life so much and hate it at the same time? I love Callista, she's perfect in every way for me. I know she's different than other babies, and I make it a point to stay away from places where there are going to be babies... I like staying in my "Callie Bubble" where all I see is her development, her growth, her milestones.  But today all the imperfections in my little bubble were pointed out to me by life in general.

It all started with the MRI phone call and the list of what I like to call "the no questions". Because our answer is almost always no. After all the technical questions, (surgeries, med changes, etc.) we answer:

1. Can she sit up? No.
2. Does she eat anything by mouth yet? No.
3. Does she hold toys? No.
4. Does she have feeling in her legs? No, not for the most part.
5. Is she mobile? No.
6. Does she babble? Yes. (Score!)

Overall result: the no's have it. Way to rub it in, thank you. What does this have to do with an MRI? I'm already nervous enough about the sedation!

The second thing happened inadvertently through conversation with some lovely visitors at work. We were talking about my work in disabilities and encouraging parents to be advocates for their children. The lady I was working closely with asked me how my daughter was today after seeing her picture in my office. The talk around the table turned to children and another woman made the comment something to the extent of "I can't imagine having a child with a disability. I have a daughter. All I had to worry about was if she'd grow up to be a ballerina, but she played softball instead." Most moms won't understand but those words wounded me. My daughter will never be a ballerina or play softball... If you can't imagine having a child with a disability, there are many mothers out there who have children with varying degrees who can enlighten you. Having a child with a disability is: endless doctor visits, physical therapy, occupational therapy, surgeries, clinics, check the shunt, have an MRI, convince the person in charge that your kid needs bracing. Rinse, repeat. Squeeze your spouse in somewhere and if you're lucky, find a few hours of sleep.

Normally I could take these things in stride. And then I held an adorable little tiny baby. Yep, I broke my rule and hung out with a baby. But she was so darn cute! And her little ears were pierced. And she smiled at me. And I held her. I was fine, it was good. Until I was stupid and asked how old she was. Three months.... Three months old and light years beyond what Callie is doing. I cried. It's so ridiculous, I know. But the tears came, and I had to give her back and leave. I think it's the moment where you come face to face with things you'll never have that make it hurt.

So yeah, I had "a day" and I will be over it by tomorrow. I am certainly not proud of my lapse in mental status but hey, it happens. I will really feel better after spending some good quality time with my little monster next week. Other babies may be developing faster than her, but no baby will ever be cuter than her ;)

Things No One Tells You

When you are pregnant or have a new baby, there's always someone there to tell you the secrets of being a mom. You get hints on how to bathe her, feed her, change her, play with her, get her to sleep. But there are things people don't tell you, and you don't think about until they happen. Some things I didn't know:

• Apparently, when you become a mother, you now have this intrinsic love for babies, real or fake. And when one is in trouble (yes, the fake ones, specifically Renesme) your heart immediately goes into protection mode (hello, fake baby!!!). 
• Vomit/drool is nothing to be concerned about. Yeah, so what if I have a drool mark on my black shirt? I'll be wearing it to work anyway because who the hell has time to do laundry?
•  Your baby's poop is completely different than other babies' poo. Now I am definitely not saying ANY poop is awesome, but for some reason, hers isn't nearly as bad as someone else's dirty diaper.
• You make up things your kid "likes". Yup, Callista likes giraffes. Because I like giraffes. So obviously she does too. I'm sure she will have a complex later in life because I've forced these upon her. 
• No matter how bad of a day you have, one tiny little smile from your child can erase it. Seriously, just one.
• Babies make you do incredibly stupid things. Make squeaky noises with your teeth. Hang your tongue out the side of your mouth. Make ridiculous sounds with your nose. All of those things that everyone else would think look incredibly stupid, but you don't care because it makes her laugh. And then  you laugh. And she laughs harder. And then you all look like a bunch of ninnies anyway.
• Babies speak at highly inapprorpriate times. All the time. That moment of silence in church? Not for her! Sermon takes too long? We shall yell and tell him to wrap it up! Doctors are sharing information with mommy and daddy? Oh no, it's all about her, and she let's you know. 

I'm sure I have more to add, but right now, these are what come to mind. Callista's daddy and I went out to do something for ourselves last night for the first time in a long time. We saw Breaking Dawn (excellent!) and I was glad we got some time away. But darn was I glad to be home to see Callie after a long day away. Of course, mommy is having a strange allergic reaction to something since Saturday and at any random time during the day I look like I've gotten a bad dose of botox in my face and my arms and legs are a beautiful shade of pink/red. Total hotness.

After that super cute description, I'll end on a positive note. My baby girl is ten months old! *GASP* I am not sure how this happened. I am not sure why I am now pinning a million and one "first birthday" themed items on Pinterest. Where did the time go? We aren't reaching our milestones on time, but make progress everyday. Our new therapy goals are to have Callie sitting assisted by her first birthday and first bracing by 18 months. Our other goal is to have her eating some by mouth by her first birthday (everyone loves cake!). Wish us luck in meeting these goals and making progress!!

Incision- don't look if you don't wanna see :)

Soooooo...... these are my staples.... they are about a half inch below my belly button and extend a good six or seven inches below that. Other than being crazy bruised, they aren't nearly as horrific as I thought they would be. When the doctor made me take off my bandage, I refused to look at them for awhile... But had to come to terms with that if I wanted to take a shower. :) Getting them out tomorrow hopefully!