I Never Dreamed I Would Be This Mom.

Thoughts from my First Mother’s Day as a special needs parent.

I never dreamed I would be this mom. You know, the mom with a special needs child. It’s a shocking thing to say out loud but it’s true. No one dreams to be a special needs parent, it just happens.

Before I became a special needs mom…

I may have dreamed I would be the mom chasing my toddler around the house. I never dreamed I would be the mom begging my toddler to attempt to crawl.

I may have dreamed that I would be the soccer mom, or the dance mom. Running between championship games and year end recitals. I never dreamed I would be the mom with 20 doctors and specialists number’s in her cell phone. Running between PT and OT and SLP appointments. Heck if I am being honest I never dreamed I would be the mom who knew what all those letters stood for.

I may have dreamed I would be the mom who surprised her kid with a car on their 16th birthday. I never dreamed I would be the mom whose child would never have the ability to drive.

Now that I am a special needs mom…

I never dreamed I would be the mom begging my toddler to attempt to crawl but then I wouldn’t be the mom who got to clap and cheer for her toddler who found the strength to push into the crawling position.

I never dreamed I would be the mom who has 20 doctors and specialists number’s in her cell phone but then I wouldn’t be the mom who got to advocate for and support her child’s health and well being every single day.

I never dreamed I would be the mom whose child would never have the ability to drive but then I wouldn’t be the mom who got to have those extra car rides and conversations with her child.

So yes I never dreamed I would be this mom but I also never dreamed that I could have so much strength, or that I could give so much of myself, or that I could love someone as much as I do now because I am this mom. The mom with the special needs child I never dreamed of but now couldn’t imagine life without.

Family photo taken the day we brought Timothy home from the hospital.
My Crew.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Dear Timothy

A letter to my baby boy.

Dear Timmo, Tiny, Teeny, Timotee, or one of the many silly nicknames you get called:

I can’t believe your first birthday has come and gone already. When I think about your first year it feels so long and stretched out and like it went by so quickly all at the same time.  

Newborn Timothy wrapped in a white  blanket with blue stripes with a soother in his mouth. He has an iv in his right hand and his eyes are open forward.
Newborn Timothy.

Timothy, you entering our family changed everything for us in so many ways. You are the first boy in our little family but also the first grandson on both sides of the family so there was a lot of excitement to have a little man join us after so many (adorable) little ladies.  You are also what we plan to be (never say never) our final baby and the completing piece of our family. And then of course there is the fact that you were born blind.

I was so excited to be having a baby boy but also very nervous. I have 2 younger sisters, I have 6 nieces, and I have your 2 sisters. Girls are kind of what I’m used to. I wasn’t sure if our bond would be different than the one I had with your sisters, and quite quickly after you were born I learned that it definitely was different but not in the way I expected.  There is something about being a mom to a little boy that is a whole new kind of magic.

Timothy at a few months old laying on the floor beside his dad. He is feeling his dads face.
Father and Son.

Your presence had a sweetness to it from the very beginning and it is what I love the most about you. You are the best at cuddling, always getting so close and curled up against me or dad (or some of your other favorite snuggle buddies) and letting us soak in all the baby love you have to offer. You never want to be too far from us and I love watching your little hands reaching out to find us and pulling yourself closer.

A very close second to your sweetness is your pure joy. Your smile lights up the room and your laughter is contagious (even more so than COVID-19). I would do just about anything to make you laugh your deep belly laugh and see that bright smile on your face. When there were tough days during the months we were awaiting a diagnosis I remember that every time you would smile I knew that no matter what you are the perfect little boy for our family and that you will be just fine.

Timothy at 8 months old smiling and playing in his exersaucer.
Smiles.

Watching you grow this past year has been the greatest privilege and blessing. You have changed everything in our family and made us stronger, kinder, and more determined people than we were before. Most importantly you have taught us about love in ways we never could have imagined without having you in our lives.

The way you trust us to catch you whenever you decide to be a little braver than you’re ready for shows me that we are doing a good job because we are your safe place. And I hope as you continue to grow and learn and get even braver, you will know that you can always trust us to catch you. We will forever be your safe place, your biggest fans, your greatest supporters, and your loudest advocates. We love you so much buddy, just the way you are.

Timothy on his first birthday leaning mouth first into a corner of his blue birthday cake.
Timothy enjoyed his birthday cake.

Love, Mommy

The Mental Load of Mothers

The kind of tired that sleep can’t fix.

Being a mom is tiring; there is no question about that. At any age and stage during infancy to adulthood there is always a reason that being a mom is exhausting: as a newborn it’s the constant waking to feed, as a toddler it’s the constant energy, as a child it’s the constant activities. Past that I can’t really say first hand but I have some ideas.  But being a mother comes with more than just lack of sleep and energy, it comes with the type of tired that sleep alone can’t fix.

Hailey, Charlotte, and Timothy at 6 weeks. Hailey and Charlotte are smiling. Timothy is crying.
It’s tough to be a baby.

The main reason that being a mother is so exhausting is because of something called the mental load. I like to think of the mental load like a giant backpack filled with miscellaneous items that are inside my brain. It is a weight that mothers carry every single day, and being a mother to a special needs child adds a significantly longer list of items to the backpack.

This backpack is filled with big and little things, but the weight of each adds up to be quite heavy for one person to carry alone. Especially when just as quickly as something gets taken out of the backpack six more items are placed inside it.

This mental load aspect of parenting is something that usually falls onto the mother (not always) and therefore can cause some strain in the parenting relationship because it is a lot to ask of one person. Men and women are just different and as much as everyone knows that it can be really frustrating to deal with those differences in daily life.

This morning my husband got up and decided he had enough time to make himself some eggs and toast for breakfast before work. So he did that, and he went to work.

This morning I came downstairs to get Hailey ready for school and all of us out the door in time for the school bus. But I saw there was no bread left to make her a sandwich and so I had to go get some from the deep freeze in the garage. On my way over there I noticed James’ boots tracked mud all over the front entry way so when I got back inside I swept. Then when I went to throw out the mud I noticed the garbage never made it out last night and so I changed that. And then I cursed under my breath and got all the kids ready and out the door.

Charlotte laying on the ground throwing a tantrum beside a teddy bear.
Toddler Tantrums.

As I sat at the bus stop waiting I sent off a quick snippy text to my husband “Thanks for leaving me no bread to make Hailey’s lunch”. I was furious. Yes I know it’s just bread and at least we did have some in the freezer but I’m tired.

I am tired of being the only one to remember that: Hailey’s lunch needs made, the agenda needs signed, the pediatrician needs called, the physiotherapy needs scheduled, Timothy’s on his last pair of clean pants, Charlotte only has 2 diapers left ,next week’s appointment conflicts with school pick up, did we use the last of the frozen vegetables last night? I better pick some up.

The to-do list that continues for eternity in my head is overwhelming. As I think myself into a spiral I heard my phone. “Sorry babe I didn’t think of it.” That was my husband’s reply and as much as I was still seething, I also wanted to laugh. Unfortunately that was just the truth of the situation, he didn’t think of it. There was no master plan to make my morning more difficult although it felt like it at the time.

Remember how I said the mental load is like a backpack full of miscellaneous items in your brain? Well continuing with that analogy… think of when you go away as a family, even for a night. What does your husband pack? Probably his own bag which consists of a new shirt, underwear, deodorant, and if you’re lucky a toothbrush. What do you pack? What do you pack for the kids? Chances are a lot more than what he packed. As women we tend to want to be prepared for anything, and are generally more organized then men. So if you pack more in your physical backpack than your husband, what makes you think it would work any different mentally?

James sitting in the car with Timothy at 6 months sitting in the passenger seat. We are parked.
Road trips.

Now I’m not saying this means that it should all be on you and that he is off the hook. Not at all. But I think the first step of sharing that mental load is for you both to understand how the other sees it and why. And then to try and find a common ground and compromise on what you each can realistically take care of.

For my husband, he doesn’t have a great memory so if I want him to take out the garbage for me, or switch over the dishes while I’m out late at girl guides with the kids, I just need to ask. And for myself even though I know realistically I need to handle all the scheduling of appointments, I just need a listening ear from him to vent to about my stresses with it.

There will always be differences between my husband and I in how we deal with things and that is just a part of joining your life with another person. The way we communicate about it and work together is the most important aspect.

I don’t ever expect to not carry the majority of the mental load simply because of who I am as a person (I like to be organized and I’m a worrier). What I do expect is that my husband is there to hold the backpack for me for awhile when I just can’t carry it anymore or that he is there to help catch it when it starts to slip off.

James and Melissa sitting together smiling
Partners.

Thank you for patiently waiting for a new post, the backpack has been a little extra heavy these days <3.

Our New “Normal”

This week is normal; in fact it is so normal that it actually feels abnormal. We don’t  have any doctor appointments, therapies, or specialists. I’m not expecting any phone calls for scheduling or testing or updates. It is just a plain old week. And as much as I should enjoy it, it feels wrong, like I must be forgetting something.

Timothy sitting on the couch smiling. He is wearing a blue sleeper with a polar bear on it.
Smiley Timothy.

Ever since we started this journey with Timothy’s Leber Congenital Amaurosis (LCA) I have gotten accustomed to the busyness of it. There seems to always be something going on whether that be an appointment, or two, a therapy, a new doctor, a follow up phone call. I don’t really remember the last week I had without at least one of the above.

Although this is an unusually quiet week, I can just look at my calendar for the next 6 weeks and realize that this is the calm before the storm of all of the above and then some.

Yet something about the quietness of this week has my anxiety going wild. After shrugging it off as just anticipation for the crazy month and a half that is creeping up on me, I realized it actually isn’t that at all. Instead it is the fact that all the busyness is what feels “normal” to me now.

Having a child with special needs comes with a lot of moving pieces and I have been organizing those pieces into our lives for about 7 months now. In a way it feels like it has become our life. So when we have a chance to sit back and just have a quiet week at home it just doesn’t feel right.

This is a part of special needs parenting that I really struggle with; the right to feel normal in abnormal circumstances.

Hailey holding Charlotte to go down a slide. They are both happy.
Playtime with our girls.

I think it confuses other people who haven’t been in this situation to think of weekly appointments and a lifelong disability as being “normal” but for us special needs families we need to regain a sense of normality in our life after the initial shock of a disability diagnosis.

 I get more comfortable with Timothy’s diagnosis every day.  The little details of his nystagmus (jumping eyes) or him not making eye contact with me have become less obvious and I can go for hours in a day without even thinking about him being blind. He is just my Timothy, he interacts with me how he always has, and he interacts with the world as he always has. And to us that is normal.  

I get used to running around to all the appointments and in a way I enjoy it. Checking in with Doctors and starting new therapies makes me feel like I am doing something to help Timothy thrive.

Yes there are still days where I am completely overwhelmed by my schedule and how I will make it all work, or completely heartbroken over the dirty look Timothy got at Wal-Mart because he was going cross-eyed (which is actually called Strabismus  by the way).

A big part of acceptance and moving forward is finding our new “normal” and being able to enjoy our family fully just the way it is and that is what we are learning to do every day.

So I hope for other special needs families out there, you can also realize that we all deserve to feel normal regardless of if your “normal” is different from others.

Timothy is sitting on the couch. He is wearing a t shirt, a blue batman baseball cap, and black sunglasses. He is smiling.
Our cool dude.

Thank you so much for reading about our journey.

For Better or For Worse

Marriage and a special needs diagnosis.

James and I are basically still newlyweds… okay maybe not quite but we are pretty new to this. Timothy was born exactly 1 week after our first wedding anniversary.  So at this point we are almost two years into marriage.

When you first get married there are these ideals you have and plans for how you think your future might play out. But you know what they say “life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans”.

Melissa and James at their wedding kissing at the alter.
I do.

I thought we were probably more prepared than most for the curveballs of life based on what we went through before getting married (losing a sibling, antenatal depression, high risk pregnancy,  blended family, etc). We had a pretty colorful year of being engaged.  But yet I still found myself naively creating these plans and ideals for our life together thinking after we said “I do” all those other problems of life would just cease to exist.  

We had agreed that three children was probably going to be it for us baby wise (we already had two when we got married) so after Timothy was born everything seemed set.

I remember sitting in the NICU with Timothy thinking I was one of the lucky ones. I got pregnant quickly into trying and had two other healthy kids at home. I was blessed with three healthy beautiful kids. I also remember a feeling of worry wash over me in that moment.

In a way I felt like having three healthy kids was too good to be true. Life just doesn’t work out that way. I remember when all of this started with Timothy thinking “Yup too good to be true”. After a lot of grieving and processing with Timothy’s diagnosis I can now say I still have three healthy beautiful kids, one is just showing me the world in a completely different way.  But back to the beginning of our journey…

Hailey, Charlotte, and Timothy. Hailey is holding brand new Timothy. Charlotte is sitting beside them.
Meeting their new brother.

The start of all of Timothy’s troubles (read Timothy’s Story) came at a time I was in the thick of postpartum depression and anxiety. Now you might be thinking what does any of this have to do with marriage and I can promise you it has a lot to do with it.

James and I handle stress completely differently. James also doesn’t have anxiety or really understand it (he is trying though!).

So when I came home from the ophthalmologist and said he thinks Timothy has Leber Congenital Amaurosis (see Timothy and CRB1) and he is blind, James said “Well that sucks but he will be okay”. Now at that moment I can tell you I was anything but okay and I wasn’t sure how it would just “be okay”.  

Throughout this journey and all the appointments and tests James has pretty much remained the same, he does not stress about them because it doesn’t change anything. But for myself I can feel my anxiety creep up weeks before the appointments and I do stress about how they will go, how Timothy will handle the appointment, will I remember to ask all my questions. The stress I have for these appointments is endless. Not to mention the massive wait times to see specialists or get test results, weeks and sometimes months of waiting doesn’t help my anxiety.  

James and Melissa (holding Timothy) smiling.
Road trips

Even though I can recognize that we have these differences it has definitely caused some conflict in our marriage. I remember a couple weeks after the initial “diagnosis” sitting on the couch crying basically begging James to be sad with me. I wanted him to cry with me that Timothy won’t see a flower or a sunset or a waterfall. He wanted me to think of how he will smell the flowers, feel the warm sun and the mist from the waterfall. We just were not on the same page.

It made me mad. Mad that he wasn’t sad about it, accusations of not even caring about Timothy’s condition were definitely thrown out (Sorry James).  And also mad that he was handling it, he was okay, he accepted it and could look at the bright side. I was struggling with that.

I also made him mad. If he were to name the top thing he dislikes about me I can guarantee you it will be how I hold onto things because I do. He wanted me to think of the positives and move forward. And I wanted that too I just didn’t know how.

Well eventually (not too long after) I moved forward and started placing more focus on the good and less focus on the things Timothy wouldn’t experience. And eventually James broke down and was sad about it for awhile. Life is funny that way.

We learned a lot about each other in these past 10 months since having Timothy, and even more since getting his diagnosis. We have really had to work on our communication and understanding (which is not an easy job).  Timothy’s diagnosis was hard and now being parents of a special needs child is even harder.

 I titled this post for better or for worse because it is usually said in wedding vows. But I think it’s hard to understand the meaning of these vows until you are married.  We have definitely felt some “for worse” moments these past 10 months. And we also feel like we have learned a lot about the effort marriage requires and grown stronger together because of fighting through those moments.

Melissa and James at their wedding walking up the aisle after getting married holding hands.
In this together.

So for any new special needs parents (or ones who are struggling) I hope that you can find a way through the “for worse” moments because there will definitely be “for better” moments too.

The Results are in: Timothy and CRB1

If you have not had a chance to read Timothy’s Story yet I have linked it here so you can catch up to where we left off on diagnosing his condition.

Timothy at 4 months old laying wrapped in a hospital blanket sleeping with an IV in.
Getting a preliminary Diagnosis.

Back in August we saw an ophthalmologist at the Alberta Children’s Hospital in Calgary where we live. Within a few seconds of doing the dilated eye exam he told us that Timothy had a problem with his retina and would be required to see a specialist out of Edmonton (about 3 hours away). He wrote down the words Leber Congenital Amaurosis on a piece of paper and told me this is likely what is affecting Timothy but we will need to undergo further testing to find out.

I started doing research the second I stepped out of his office and felt like there was not one thing about Leber Congenital Amaurosis or LCA I had not already read about (or so I thought). The only thing I needed to know was if my son truly had it. We waited three months for our appointment and it was a long hard day as my husband and I decided we would just drive down for the appointment and then come back home that night (6 hours of driving total).

When we first arrived Timothy had to go for a test called an Electroretinogram or an ERG. For this test he had electrodes placed underneath each eye and then a small camera like device was placed over his eyes and flashed different lights into them with both the lights on and then in the dark. The ERG reads the response of the retina to the light signals in both the light and dark settings. This test is used to help confirm a diagnosis of LCA if the response from the retina comes back severely abnormal or almost nonexistent. After receiving that test we got to speak with the specialist. He told us that the ERG showed little to no response from Timothy’s retina in both the light and the dark, he also examined Timothy and agreed he has little or no useable vision (especially central vision).  Although he said it is clear Timothy does not focus or react to visual stimulation, he also said that we won’t know exactly what he can or cannot see until Timothy is able to express that himself.  With these findings he said that we are looking at the diagnosis of LCA and the next step would be genetic testing to confirm 100% and tell us the gene type. We were luckily able to complete the blood work before we even left the hospital and began our 4 to 6 week wait on results.

Timothy at 6 months old. He has blonde hair and blue eyes. He is laying naked in a bassinet with his hands together holding his soother.
Sweet Timothy.

As soon as 4 weeks had hit I was anxious to hear back, I was confident that they would find something but I still had that nagging feeling  of what if they cannot figure out what is going on with my baby.  At 4.5 weeks I caved and called them to check in but there was nothing yet. As we got closer to Christmas I knew that if I didn’t hear back by the 6 week mark I likely would not have a result until the New Year. So because I am one of those moms I called again a couple times and on the 6 week mark exactly I finally got the call back. First she told me it confirmed the diagnosis of LCA and then she said the gene is called CRB1.

CRB1…okay. I recognized the name from a few families I had started following on social media.  The genetic counsellor went into details on how it is recessive and what that means in terms of future pregnancies with my husband (25% chance each child) and the chances of my children being carriers. She told me how this gene is only linked to vision problems and nowhere else in the body would be affected (thankfully). She told me they would have James and I complete genetic testing as well to show the whole picture of how the “non working copies” of the gene were passed down to Timothy. She wished me a Merry Christmas and that was it. CRB1 was now the final diagnosis.

This whole time we were awaiting the results I had promised myself I would not get my hopes up for a specific gene.  There is only one that has an FDA approved treatment in the USA and then only a couple more undergoing clinical trials. See after we got this diagnosis I had emerged myself in a community of parents going through LCA diagnosis’ and I was seeing some really awe inspiring kids regaining their vision from the one treatment. For me, wanting Timothy to receive the treatment had nothing to do with making life easier or simpler but had everything to do with those waves of grief that come with the loss of his vision. Even though I had told myself not to do it I let my mind wander into the thoughts of Timothy seeing me smile at him for the first time, or seeing the snowfall outside, or maybe a waterfall, a sunset, a flower. Yeah I let myself fall too far into those what ifs. So when I heard her say CRB1 the first thought I had was not very positive.

Fortunately we have been working through this diagnosis of LCA for months and I was quickly able to bounce back into my “how can I best help Timothy succeed” mode.  Within the day I was in touch with several great families whose children also have LCA CRB1 and they were so comforting and encouraging. Then I was able to connect with Kristin Smedley who not only has two sons with LCA CRB1 but has also started the curing retinal blindness foundation for CRB1, wrote a book called Thriving Blind, and has a TED talk about her story which really resonated with me.  Connecting with these amazing families who have all been where I am now has meant more to me than I can put into words.

Writing this blog and sharing our story and continuing to share our journey has been so therapeutic for me. I have made so many connections and not only with other LCA parents but parents whose children are blind or visually impaired from other conditions. I have also gained so much support from family, friends, and even complete strangers.  I hope that through this blog one day I can help a family who is just starting their journey into LCA and that I can be an advocate for not only my son but the blind and visually impaired community. 

Timothy a blonde haired blue eyed 8 month old. He is smiling. His blue shirt says best brother in the world.
My Happy Boy.

Thank you so much for everyone who takes the time to read my posts. I can’t wait to continue on this journey together to show the world that Happiness is Blind.

Dear Hailey

A letter to my first baby.

My Hailey,

It feels impossible that you are already 6 years old (a third of the way to adulthood!) yet I cannot think of a time when I did not have you in my life. Some days I can so clearly remember the way your voice used to sound when you were just learning to talk and your little toddler quirks. Then other days I feel like I look up and you have changed completely right before my eyes. Being a mom can be so conflicting because I am constantly torn between wishing you wouldn’t grow so fast and being grateful that I am lucky enough to watch you grow.

Hailey at 3 years old. She has brown hair and is wearing an Ariel themed bathing suit. She is smiling standing in front of a waterfall.
My adventurer.

 You will always hold an extra special place in my heart because you are the one who made me a mom and completely changed my world. Ever since I saw those two pink lines I knew you were meant for me (even though I was only 18). I cherish those first couple years when we got to spend every day together. Those years made me fall in love with being a mom and built a bond between us like no other.  Raising you has made me into the person I am today and given me the confidence to add two more children to our family.

Melissa a 25 year old with long blonde hair and brown eyes with her daughter Hailey a 5 years old with brown hair and brown eyes.
My Hailey.

We have been a team since the start and your grace in our ever changing family has amazed me. You welcomed an awesome dad who loves you so much into our family at such a young age and then quickly gained two little siblings. Watching you the past two years as a big sister has been the best experience yet. I love seeing my baby girl evolve into a kind, caring, and compassionate little lady. The way you have adapted to having Timothy in our family has made me so proud of the person you are becoming. You embody acceptance and inclusion because you view Timothy no different than anyone else while simultaneously being considerate of his needs. Every day with you I learn something new and gain more hope for the future. I cannot wait to see where this life takes you because I know you will do amazing things.

Hailey with her brown hair down, wearing glasses and a purple shirt. She is smiling beside her brother Timothy. He has blonde hair and is wearing a Canada Day onesie.
Best Big Sister!

Hailey, you are the leader of our little pack, our comedian, our adventurer, our sensitive heart, and most importantly our big little girl who we love unconditionally. Never stop being you.

6 year old Hailey with her brown hair in a pony tail, wearing glasses, and smiling.
This is 6.

Love, Mommy

Home for the Holidays

Boundaries and Learning to say “No” at Christmas

Full disclosure, I have been stressing about Christmas since we learned that Timothy is blind (in August). This time of year is always so busy and there is a sense of obligation to spend time with everyone you know during the holiday season. Unfortunately I am a people pleaser and that sense of obligation usually has me backing down on any boundaries I set for myself during Christmas time but this year is going to be different.

Brown haired 6 year old girl in a pony tail and glasses smiling in front of the Christmas tree.
‘Tis the season.

Since Timothy is blind it is quite easy for him to get over stimulated and scared. Mom and Dad are really the only people he knows and being in an unfamiliar space with tons of voices he doesn’t recognize and people constantly touching him is not fun for him.  To be honest it is not fun for me either as I am constantly worried about how he is feeling, and dealing with him crying every time there is a new noise or a new person trying to hold him.

Aside from the fact those things are not fun, they are also not fair. Why should Timothy have to spend his first Christmas stressed out and uncomfortable? When it gets to the point of over-stimulation he can be inconsolable and the effects usually result in a cranky baby for a few days.  We have been in this position a few times over the past four months and I always regret not standing up for my family’s needs.

If there is anything I have learned about raising a special needs child it’s that I need to be his biggest advocate.  So when it comes to Christmas this year James and I came up with some guidelines for our family. I have decided to share these on here for other parents either with a special needs child or not (all families need boundaries) in hopes that others can see it is okay to say no in the best interest of your family (even to old traditions).

Curly brown haired two year old girl placing a green Christmas ornament on the Christmas tree.
Christmas Tree Decorating

These are the four guidelines we decided upon to help us get through the holidays:

  1. We are not going out of town: This is probably the biggest decision we made to cut down on holiday stress. Last road trip we went on Charlotte and Timothy each cried and screamed half the way home. Aside from the fact that young kids don’t want to spend half their day sitting in a car seat, we live in Canada where the weather is unpredictable and the roads are not always safe.
  2. We are not over committing ourselves: We definitely have made some fun holiday plans with family and are super excited for the kids to experience Christmas with their cousins. As much as we have a lot of Christmas events we would like to enjoy, we didn’t pack our entire break with plans so that we make sure to have some quiet family time and give Timothy (and the girls) a chance to relax at home between commitments.
  3. We aren’t spending tons of money: This is something we have done the past couple years but it’s important to bring up. We do not go crazy on gifts, actually we generally only buy for the children in our family (our own and our nieces). We usually go with a nice Christmas card and some updated kid photos for grandparents, great grandparents, and aunts and uncles. The first year we did this it was out of necessity and we had some comments from an extended family member on it (which did not feel good). Now that we are in a better spot I almost wavered on this plan but we decided our budget and savings plan is more important to our family’s future, as the children want to do more activities now and with all the upcoming costs for specialized items for Timothy. Christmas is not supposed to be about gifts anyway and I much prefer the time spent and memories made than an item that will be forgotten about quickly.
  4. We are advocating for our intended family’s needs: This one can be a hard one especially for families that are just starting out. When you get married and have children it can be hard to detach from your family of origin to make your own traditions and plans. Sometimes you decide to still partake in certain traditions all together and other times you don’t. For us, we are planning to be a part of several events with extended family over the holidays but only when it is in the best interest of our intended family. If someone in the family is sick, overwhelmed, or too tired we might cancel or leave an event early.  If someone we have plans with is unwell, we might reschedule to protect our children’s health. This year we are trying to make sure we do things that work for our family and that might mean keeping the kids close to their schedules for bedtime, and saying no if Timothy is overwhelmed and doesn’t want to be held by someone other than us.

These four guidelines we have set are not intended to make anyone frustrated or unhappy with us but instead are boundaries we created in order to have a fun and fulfilling Christmas. It is always okay to speak up for your needs and your family’s needs.

Lit up Christmas tree with a silhouette of a dad holding his infant baby boy in front.
Timothy’s First Christmas.

As always thank you to everyone who reads my posts I have loved making so many new connections and I hope you all have a Happy Holidays!

My Christmas Village

When I was pregnant I was so excited that Timothy was going to be a little older than the girls were for his first Christmas (the girls were November and December babies). I thought it would all be so magical and fun for him. Fast forward to December and I just can’t seem to get into the holiday spirit. This is where the everyday struggle for acceptance comes in. Do I know Timothy is blind? Yes. Do I know he will be okay and have an amazing fulfilling life without sight? Yes. Is it hard to set up a Christmas tree full of ornaments and lights and have Timothy not even turn his head in that direction? Also yes.

Christmas tree full of ornaments including little Elfs. Santa Christmas countdown Calendar in the background.
Oh Christmas tree.

It is hard to watch my daughters’ eyes light up when they see the Christmas tree and know that he won’t experience that. That sadness can sometimes weigh me down but luckily I have amazing people around me who can bring me back to acceptance and happiness.

8 month old with a soother in her mouth in front of the Christmas tree
Timothy’s first Christmas.

My mom is one of those people. She dropped off a Christmas tree and ornaments for us but that wasn’t all. She put extra thought into how to allow Timothy to experience his first Christmas. A musical book of Christmas songs, ornaments with bells on them, even some cinnamon scented sticks for the tree. She made it possible for Timothy to experience the Christmas tree in a completely different way. I am so grateful to have such an amazing mom to help me through this journey and remind me of the true spirit of Christmas.

Christmas song book. Elf ornament with a red, green, and white hat with a bell on it,. Green and red Christmas bells. Scented cinnamon sticks for the tree.
Thanks Mom.

Dear Charlotte

A letter to my middle little.

Oh Charlotte,

How in the world are you already 2 years old?! Some days it feels like you were just born yet on the other hand it feels like you have always been apart of our family. I sometimes feel guilty about our time together because there have been so many distractions over the past two years that have affected what I got to spend with you. When I had Hailey I got to spend two and a half years home with her everyday but with you I was back in classes weeks later and then immediately working, it was hard for me to miss any second with you. I am so grateful that for the past 8 months I have got to be home with you again because the year of being 1 was my ultimate favorite with your sister and I really didn’t want to miss yours.

18 month old girl with curly hair wearing a purple unicorn sweatsuit
Charlotte the Unicorn

You changed so much this past year with learning to walk and then quickly learning to run. One day not long ago you woke up speaking sentences where before there were hardly words. I love watching your evolution into childhood yet I wish we could hold onto those little shreds of baby you have left, like when you snuggle into my shoulder if you are tired and how you still need my help to get your PJ’s on. I already can see the last traces of baby leaving your face as you grow taller and smarter every day.

16 Month old curly hair girl holding her newborn brother
Big Sister Charlotte

I know you were only the baby of the family for 16 months and being a middle child is not an easy task. I hope you know that your role in our family is much more and you should never feel replaced or question your worth. But if you ever need reminding I will always be there to tell you how smart you are, how important your presence is in our family, and how absolutely unconditionally loved you are.

@ year old curly haired girl sitting in a pink wooden rocking chair with blue balloons behind her
Charlotte turns 2!

P.S. Don’t grow up just yet stay little just a little bit longer.

Love, Mommy