Life is beautiful right now.

It has been over a year since our nightmare began.  It's over now, in all intents and purposes.  Life has moved on for every one…including us.  Avery is 19 months old, 18lbs and absolutely beautiful.  She is just the light of our lives and has attitude like you couldn't even imagine.

Avery is receiving her Pamidronate treatments every two months.  She has still had breaks, like we would expect, but we can't imagine how much more she would break without this miracle medicine.  She no longer cries all the time in pain, she's much happier, eats better, sleeps better - she's a completely different baby!

Our family is finally at Travis Air Force Base in beautiful Fairfield, California.  It's absolutely beautiful here and everyone is adjusting beautifully.  Madi misses her friends from North Dakota and talks about them every single day but she is happy going to the park and playing with her sister.  Kailee is so full of …well, spunk… it's incredible.  She's 3 years old now and is just like me when I was a kid.  She looks just like me, acts just like me.  Boy, are we in trouble!

On our travels to California I finally got to meet a beautiful, amazing, inspiring woman.  She is one of the very first women who said "I'm here for you." when we began our nightmarish journey last year.  She stood up for me, stood in for me, stood by me and held my hand - all without ever meeting me.  It was something that I could only have dreamed about.  Her name is Shari.  Her family are people that I consider family to me.  We finally got to meet and it was exactly what I imagined it would be!  Avery got to meet her future husband (haha!) Blake.  It was incredible to see the difference in size even though Avery is older than Blake!  Madi and Kailee got to enjoy the company of Jordyn - who is just the absolute most adorable, sweet and charming girl!  And Colin, Shari's husband, was hilarious and also a joy to meet.  All in all, our trip through the desolate west wouldn't have been 1/8th as enjoyable without taking the day to meet them.  Thank you, Shari, Colin, Jordyn and Blake.  It was incredible!!

California seems to be one of the best things that's happened for our family in a long time.  It has great medical facilities, two offer PAM within 45 minutes!  The base has a lot of 'special needs' families - even a group just specifically for g-tube babies.  There are a lot of kids, things to do, beautiful weather and a great environment for Avery (and us).

Last year, Christmas wasn't the same.  It was stripped of a lot of the joy, the beauty and the magic.  It was very dark and hard.  We couldn't breathe.  We couldn't sleep.  We couldn't eat.  This year, even without our family and amazing friends, our support system, we had a beautiful Christmas.  We had a family.  Something we weren't sure we were going to have last year.

Sometimes, I still think about those dark days - and it's hard - really hard.  We should've been enjoying those moments with our new baby - not worrying about whether we were able to take her home, keep her home, enjoy her life.  It's hard not to cry when I look back at those times and know that after fighting so hard in the NICU and struggling emotionally there - we lost her again to a dark hole that has become those months we were in an investigation. But, we're recovering and moving forward.

Life is beautiful right now.  And those moments are the moments that count.

Happy Birthday Avery!

Avery is amazing.  Not that I have to tell anyone who has met her about that fact.  She is charismatic, sweet and she has spunk like you couldn't imagine.  She has enough personality to knock your socks off.

 Avery got pretty sick a few months ago.  She came down pretty quickly with RSV, but had a really rough time with it.  She was hospitalized for a few rough nights and on oxygen while she recovered.  She was on nebulizer treatments for about a week afterwards, but it took a lot out of her and about a three week period to fully recover.  It was a hard time for her.

Avery celebrated her one year birthday on May 13th!!! She had a homemade cake and she absolutely LOVED every bit of it.  Even though she is still primarily fed through her g-tube she is making a strong effort to eat things by mouth.  You can see in the picture below that she made a big dent into her birthday cake.  She had most of it all over her, but she was laughing and smiling and thought that everyone singing was just the coolest thing in the world.  

 The picture below is of sweet Pei-Pei and Avery.  She is the same baby that was pictured when Avery was first hospitalized.  It's crazy to see that they are STILL about the same size.  Pei will be one in October.  She's Avery's very best friend!

We've PCS'd (fancy way of saying moved) away from Grand Forks and the girls and I are currently in Texas.  Matt is in California while we wait for housing to become available.  Avery, Madi and Kailee are all loving being "home" in Texas with both sets of their amazing grandparents.  We've been soaking up the heat, lounging by pools and just enjoying being around family and friends for the first time since Avery was born.  It's been the most incredible time.  We are looking forward to moving to Travis AFB with hesitancy just because we don't know what lies ahead. 

It was so hard to say goodbye to our friends in Grand Forks.  We love them so much.  They were our rock during the hard times there.  We will miss them all so much.  You guys know who you are!

Life still isn't stable, normal or easy.  We are still trying to get into a "normal" flow of things.  Surrounding ourselves with friends and family has helped to heal the wounds of everything that has happened in the last year.

Avery is incredible.  She is now 15 months old.  She weighs about 18lbs and is about 28" long.  She is still teeny tiny in both height and length, but proportionate.  She is 50% for height to weight.  She had her OI clinic just recently and there were no new fractures confirmed.  We suspect that she may have had a fracture on her right ankle.  We discovered that she has growth stress lines on her bones in her legs from when she was malnourished as a baby.  As I understand it, it means nothing, it's just like a line from where she stopped growing for a while and then started again.  However, it frustrates me to know that it exists.  I wish I could turn back time and fix everything for Avery.  She did start PAM while we were in Omaha, though! Woo hoo!!!

We also discovered while in Omaha that there is a chance that Avery may be deaf in her right ear.  We have to wait until we get to California and can find a Pediatrician and Pediatric ENT who is good and will work with Avery. In the meantime, we've been teaching her some signs (more, please, mommy, daddy, hungry, sick).  She pretty much just says more and please...but it's adorable, so that's ok!

Avery still isn't walking.  She can crawl super fast now, though.  She just recently realized that she could crawl up the stairs.  And as of today she can officially stand up in the middle of the floor without any assistance.  It's incredible to see her growing in such amazing ways.  She really fills our lives with such pride and joy.

Avery still relies on the g-tube for all of her feeds.  She does take liquids by mouth now - she drinks from a straw!  She doesn't seem to be aspirating on thin liquids as much as she was before so hopefully when we get to California we can get a swallow study done to confirm what I'm suspecting and get her off of simply thick.  I'd also really like to start trying to wean her off of her tube.  I think her oral aversion has lessened a lot more now and she shows so much more interest in food and drinks than she ever did before.  She is always wanting to eat whatever everyone else is eating or drinking.

I'm looking forward to a new life in California.  I'm hoping that we can start over as a family and just make things work.  Things have been really, really hard on all of us and being in Grand Forks didn't help.  It was really hard being in a place where there were always people who knew us and judged us.  I always felt like there were eyes on me and our family.  It's going to be nice to go somewhere that no one knows us and our story is ours to tell.

Abuse

Your heart stops.  No, literally, it stops.  Time stands still and everything is whirling around you, past you.  You can’t reach out to ask for help.  You can’t even stand up.  Life, as you know it, is over. 

The minute you are told you are accused of abuse (and are innocent) you are thrown into a world of fear and mistrust.  Everyone you’ve ever come in contact with is suspect.  Everything you’ve ever said is examined.  It feels like everyone who sees you just knows.  You don’t have to tell anyone that you’re accused of abuse because it feels like every pair of eyes already knows that.  They are judging you, watching you, screaming at you in their eyes. 

The first thing you do is call your mom.  Your Dad.  Your best friend.  Then, you tell no one.  How are you suppose to tell people that you’re an accused abuser?  It doesn’t even matter if it is true or not because if it is suspected, you are guilty.  You are guilty until proven innocent, no matter what.

The system is put in place to protect innocent children from being hurt and neglected at the hands of their parents, grand-parents, neighbors, guardians or whomever else they come in contact with.  Our society now is constantly told that you can’t spank, scream, yell or even seemingly discipline your children.  If you do, they’re going to call CPS. 

The system fails.  It succeeds.  It fails the innocent families in the worst possible way.  The long-term effects of a CPS investigation are awful.  It’s like you have PTSD.  Every knock at the door is the knock from the cops.  Every phone call from an unrecognized number is the Social Services Office, the Sherriff’s Department, you laywer.  Every time you are in public and your kids act out you just aren’t sure how to react.  If you discipline them then you are a bad parent.  If you let them run amok, you are a bad parent.  There is no way to win this uphill battle.  There is no coming out of the neverending nightmare of investigation.  Long after the paperwork is signed, the charges are dropped and the accusations have settled down…you are still there, left with the shambles of your once perfect family, trying to rebuild what life you can scrape back together.

 For those who have never been investigated those words might sound over-dramatic.  Drama Queen.  So cliché.  Exaggerated.  But, for those who have fought the system, cried, lost sleep, not eaten, spent hours researching and thinking and calling – those words could never ring more true.  There is no greater fear than the fear of the unknown.  You never know if today they are going to decide to take your kids, or today they decide you’re guilty. Every court appearance feels like the last and the first at the same time.  Every meeting makes you sick to your stomach, heart pounding, shaking, crying inside and screaming to please, please just let God show them that they are persecuting the innocent.  But it rarely happens. 

The child protective services system makes a family break apart into tiny little individual sized life rafts and pushes you into a rocky ocean.  You just want to find your family, pull them close, keep them huddled until you can find a place to drift.  You need to find dry land.  Somewhere that the earth doesn’t move underneath you.  That will never happen.

 It feels like it has been months since our investigation closed.  Months of agony were ended so suddenly, but it felt like it lasted forever.  Each day was a month, each month was a year.  You age so fast.  You cry so hard.  You sleep so little.  But when the investigation is over, it never really leaves.  You are always left with the shattered pieces to glue back together.  You need to pick yourself back up and move on.  God knows CPS has.  They say “case closed”, stamp it, shoot it up the chain and move on to the next family.  You’re left there with undying fear.  You will never breathe another breath without fear.  You will want to move far, far away from the place that use to offer comfort and the place you called “home.”  Every step reminds you of where you were when this happened, or that was said to you.  Each phone call.  Each day.  You brush your teeth and remember when you were crying so hard while brushing your teeth you thought you were going to puke.  These memories, these thoughts, they are never-ending.

 

Today my family is recovering.  We are still not whole.  We may never be the way we were before.  Marriages shamble under the weight of abuse accusations.  Children try to understand why mommy and daddy are crying all the time.  Why they hug you so tight.  Today, we are still struggling to move on from the last few months.  

Avery is doing wonderfully.  She is almost 15lbs.  She is sitting up beautifully.  She says “mama” “dada” “babababa.”  She is starting to learn that she can move by turning herself in circles.  She is happy, healthy and thriving.  We owe so much to Altru Health Systems.  The hospital staff that cared for Avery (and our family) while we were going through hell.  We owe a ton to Avery’s Pediatrician, who helped us ensure that Avery was healthy before sending her home.  Our Speech/OT team in the hospital while Avery was inpatient, and those who interact with her weekly now that we are out-patient. 

Ten Months!

Avery is almost ten months old!

Not much has changed with her, thankfully! It has been so nice to have a calm, normal life again.

Avery is sitting up so well now. She still doesn't spend much time on her tummy, she still sleeps in her swing, she still only eats minimal amount by mouth. She still isn't crawling or rolling over. Her first word was da-da, but she makes most of other fun sounds. She is such a bright, happy baby who brings so much joy to our family. Kailee can make her laugh more than anyone else. She just has the personality to make anyone smile, and Avery loves that!

She is up to a wonderful 15lb 1oz!! She's 26" long and her head is 17" in circumference.

We are working through Avery's first illness. Tonight her fever hit 105, which is terribly scary. She has a second Dr appointment in the morning to follow up. We initially thought it may be a respiratory infection, but she only seems to be getting worse. It is so hard to see her feeling so miserable. I haven't slept in three days because she has been so miserable and seems to have such a hard time breathing through her snotty nose.

Avery will be meeting with the ortho on Monday. Her legs are starting to bow, her feet are still turned inward, her toes are staying curled a majority of the time. It will be her first appointment to meet the ortho, but I have heard that he is very good at what he does.

The sun is finally rising, so I need to get Avery ready to go to the hospital.

Five Years Ago.

Five years ago something happened that would change me, forever. It shook me to my core.

 I remember calling home,I didn't even have to speak and immediately my mom knew something terrible had happened. I found myself in the middle of no where, along a dark highway, terrified. I had been raped, by my friend's friend.  My parents drove from our home as fast as they could to find me. My sister drive from college to find me. I was picked up off the side of the road by two men who really could've hurt me. When I finally made it home, I collapsed. For days I just walked through the motions. I didn't want to go to the hospital, I didn't want to talk about it, to tell anyone. I felt dirty and ashamed. I had a rape kit done, it was humiliating and degrading. I started the process to press charges...but then the nightmares started. I remember them, still. I pulled up to a gas station and my baby was in the car seat in the back seat. I glanced up and there he was, waiting. He walked up to the car and said "You should've kept your mouth shut." Then, he shoots my baby. Then himself. I woke up for months, crying. I stopped returning the sheriff department's calls. I couldn't do it. I literally lived in fear. Fear for myself, fear for my future. I allowed the fear to control me. I no longer felt safe and secure in my own body, in my own home, in my own life.

Five years later, I understand why they call us survivors. It's not about just being able to walk away alive. It's about being able to walk away and BE alive again. I don't trust people like I use to. I still have moments of deep fear and anxiety, sleepless nights and moments where I don't feel safe in my own house. Sometimes I see shadows and my blood runs cold. I hear a name, his name, and I feel sick. But I am alive. My heart and soul have recuperated from the nightmare.  The nightmare I lived through isn't unique. Unfortunately. Rape statistics are immensely frightening.

Now, I have three beautiful daughters. They are my world, my life and my happiness. I'm so proud of their accomplishments, even the tiny ones like sitting up, being a mischievous two year old, and spelling her name. I think back to that night and fear that my sweet babies may one day live through a nightmare like I did. That one day my heart will break when I answer the phone in the middle of the night. I can't imagine the hopelessness that my parents felt that night. As a parent, I can't imagine.

Today, five years ago, I was raped. Five years later I am strong, happy, confident and alive.