Monday, July 6, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
hope
Most of you know the drama that surrounds Eliot and eating. She still - at 18 months old - takes NOTHING by mouth. Sure, there have been moments of magic during the last year and a half, but nothing has lasted. And there we are, every time she gives us a glimpse of progress, back to the bottom of our souls scraping our hope off like bubble gum stuck to our shoes.
But, we scrape. We scrape every bit of hope off, and we start over. Every day we put her in her highchair three times and attempt to feed her. To supplement our own efforts, her feeding therapist comes to our house twice a week, and she tries to feed her, tries to get her interested, tries to find a reason why she isn't eating yet. And I can tell you after doing this for over a year and a half, everyone involved is just plain tired.
Eliot's attitude toward eating is so negative and so ingrained at this point, neither Mike nor I have what it takes to push her over the edge and encourage her to start eating. (And I don't need any "Ohhhh. You're such a good mom." "You've done such a good job." "You've gotten Elie so far." Blah dee blah dee blah.) Our home involves barking dogs, ringing phones, a screaming Owen - certainly not the quiet, focused, calm environment that Eliot needs to concentrate on food. And so, I asked for help - because she needs it.
"Here ya go, professional feeding therapist people . . . here's my baby."
There are only a handful of feeding disorders clinics around the country - "institutes" run by behavioral psychologists who understand why children do what they do (way better than I can). We are lucky enough to have one of these clinics in our city - the Marcus Institute.
I applied to the Marcus Institute's Intensive Feeding Disorders Clinic in February of 2009. We interviewed with them in March, and they felt Eliot would be a good candidate for the program. Last week, after almost four months of waiting, the Marcus Institute gave me Elie's admit date - July 13th. Could it be? Some hope?
I want the big-brained psychologists at Marcus to help my Elie. I want this to be a positive experience for her, and I want her to learn to enjoy food so we can all sit down at the dinner table one night and celebrate over my famous fish tacos (well, that might be a little far in the future). I just want her feeding to get a jump start. That's it; that's all I want. I don't expect this to be the miracle cure. I just need to have my faith restored. I just need to find a reason to hope again.
But, we scrape. We scrape every bit of hope off, and we start over. Every day we put her in her highchair three times and attempt to feed her. To supplement our own efforts, her feeding therapist comes to our house twice a week, and she tries to feed her, tries to get her interested, tries to find a reason why she isn't eating yet. And I can tell you after doing this for over a year and a half, everyone involved is just plain tired.
Eliot's attitude toward eating is so negative and so ingrained at this point, neither Mike nor I have what it takes to push her over the edge and encourage her to start eating. (And I don't need any "Ohhhh. You're such a good mom." "You've done such a good job." "You've gotten Elie so far." Blah dee blah dee blah.) Our home involves barking dogs, ringing phones, a screaming Owen - certainly not the quiet, focused, calm environment that Eliot needs to concentrate on food. And so, I asked for help - because she needs it.
"Here ya go, professional feeding therapist people . . . here's my baby."
There are only a handful of feeding disorders clinics around the country - "institutes" run by behavioral psychologists who understand why children do what they do (way better than I can). We are lucky enough to have one of these clinics in our city - the Marcus Institute.
I applied to the Marcus Institute's Intensive Feeding Disorders Clinic in February of 2009. We interviewed with them in March, and they felt Eliot would be a good candidate for the program. Last week, after almost four months of waiting, the Marcus Institute gave me Elie's admit date - July 13th. Could it be? Some hope?
I want the big-brained psychologists at Marcus to help my Elie. I want this to be a positive experience for her, and I want her to learn to enjoy food so we can all sit down at the dinner table one night and celebrate over my famous fish tacos (well, that might be a little far in the future). I just want her feeding to get a jump start. That's it; that's all I want. I don't expect this to be the miracle cure. I just need to have my faith restored. I just need to find a reason to hope again.
Monday, June 15, 2009
i waited, and look what i got
I never had a baby shower. I never mailed out announcement cards. I never had professional black and white pictures taken of the twins sleeping all curled up like little bugs in Mike's hands - with a shot of their bare naked butts, and the token close-up shot of their adorable toes.
Instead, I waited. I waited for Eliot's tube to get taken out of her nose; I waited for Owen's reflux to subside (I'm still waiting on El's); I waited for both of them to be crawling and playing; and I waited for the perfect moment when the twins were both healthy and happy, and I was having a good hair day. (What?!? Some of this can be about me, ya know.)
And then, my wonderful and VERY talented friend - Robin Gilbreath - came over to our house and took the prettiest pictures. Mike and I cried when we saw how beautiful they turned out. Owen and Eliot were not adorable babies when they were born. You all know. You remember. They were teeny-tiny, purpleish-blueish creatures full of IV's and tubes and monitors. The last thing we wanted from those days were pictures to remind us.
So, when Robin was planning our photography session a month ago, she asked me what I envisioned, what I wanted. And I replied, "I want to remember the twins forever the way they are right now."
And that's the gift she has given to us. The most beautiful moment in time . . .
Instead, I waited. I waited for Eliot's tube to get taken out of her nose; I waited for Owen's reflux to subside (I'm still waiting on El's); I waited for both of them to be crawling and playing; and I waited for the perfect moment when the twins were both healthy and happy, and I was having a good hair day. (What?!? Some of this can be about me, ya know.)
And then, my wonderful and VERY talented friend - Robin Gilbreath - came over to our house and took the prettiest pictures. Mike and I cried when we saw how beautiful they turned out. Owen and Eliot were not adorable babies when they were born. You all know. You remember. They were teeny-tiny, purpleish-blueish creatures full of IV's and tubes and monitors. The last thing we wanted from those days were pictures to remind us.
So, when Robin was planning our photography session a month ago, she asked me what I envisioned, what I wanted. And I replied, "I want to remember the twins forever the way they are right now."
And that's the gift she has given to us. The most beautiful moment in time . . .
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
competition
With all of the excitement surrounding Owen's walking, Elie is starting to feel the pressure. So, she went into the bathroom today, stole some props, and upped the ante. Here's a video of Eliot taking her crawling to a whole new level.
Monday, June 8, 2009
moving fast!
Things are moving so fast around here, I can hardly keep up.
Check out the following video that features Owen walking unassisted down the hallway, and Eliot quenching her thirst with a fountain drink.
Check out the following video that features Owen walking unassisted down the hallway, and Eliot quenching her thirst with a fountain drink.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
wedding
Well, we have successfully arrived home from our first road trip with the twins. Mike's little sister, Julianne, got married last weekend in Memphis. Mike was a groomsmen; I was a bridesmaid; and O & E were petite honorary attendants.
Owen and Eliot did remarkably well for their first time away from home. They loved watching the famous Peabody ducks in the fountain and upstairs in their rooftop house; they were great sports as Mike and I bounced them around the dance floor long after their bed time; Owen was very enthusiastic about climbing over the pews at the church, and inhaling the waffles at the hotel breakfast; and Eliot only spit-up once the whole weekend (of course, she was at the reception in her fancy, ivory silk dress, but it WAS only once!).
We had such a great time. Thanks Julianne and Matt (and, of course, their parents) for an unforgettable celebration!
Owen and Eliot did remarkably well for their first time away from home. They loved watching the famous Peabody ducks in the fountain and upstairs in their rooftop house; they were great sports as Mike and I bounced them around the dance floor long after their bed time; Owen was very enthusiastic about climbing over the pews at the church, and inhaling the waffles at the hotel breakfast; and Eliot only spit-up once the whole weekend (of course, she was at the reception in her fancy, ivory silk dress, but it WAS only once!).
We had such a great time. Thanks Julianne and Matt (and, of course, their parents) for an unforgettable celebration!
Friday, May 22, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
mork & mindy
Visiting Earth from the planet Ork, in their huge orange egg space ship . . . (I have no idea what I'm talking about, but the pictures are so damn cute, I can hardly stand it.)
Friday, May 15, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
still?
Look who's still walking for the March of Dimes!
And you can too - sort of. If you would still like to make a donation in honor of Owen and Eliot, please click the purple banner on the right-hand side of the blog. We are forever grateful for the continued support . . .
Even after our March for Babies walk, we continue to receive donations, and have now increased our team total to almost $4,500. Northside Hospital, where the twins were born and where our family spent almost half a year, has generously offered to match Team Two Early's donation to the March of Dimes. What a gift!
(The amount you see listed on the banner is only the total that I raised for our team. The $4,500 is a cumulative amount that was raised in a collaborative effort by our faithful and lovable teammates - otherwise known as our "good friends and family." Many, many thanks to these very special people.)
And you can too - sort of. If you would still like to make a donation in honor of Owen and Eliot, please click the purple banner on the right-hand side of the blog. We are forever grateful for the continued support . . .
Even after our March for Babies walk, we continue to receive donations, and have now increased our team total to almost $4,500. Northside Hospital, where the twins were born and where our family spent almost half a year, has generously offered to match Team Two Early's donation to the March of Dimes. What a gift!
(The amount you see listed on the banner is only the total that I raised for our team. The $4,500 is a cumulative amount that was raised in a collaborative effort by our faithful and lovable teammates - otherwise known as our "good friends and family." Many, many thanks to these very special people.)
Monday, April 27, 2009
thank you!
This past Saturday, we walked in honor of Owen, Eliot, and ALL of our wonderful preemie friends. Team Two Early raised $4,200 this year - an incredible accomplishment.
Thank you so much to those of you who walked with us, donated to the team, and cheered us on.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
walk for . . .
The March of Dimes, March for Babies is this Saturday. If you can't join Team Two Early in downtown Atlanta, there are thousands of walks across the country that you can join.
Walk for early labor, for PROM, for placenta previa, for preeclampsia, and for crappy cervixes everywhere.
Walk for premature babies on ventilators, C-Paps, and nasal cannulas.
Walk for infections, PDA ligations, immature lungs, blood transfusions, and teeny-tiny IV's.
Walk for long days and nights in the NICU.
Walk for feeding tubes. (We know Eliot will be walking for this one!)
Walk for the parents that sit in fear and wait.
Walk for the babies that are fighting for their lives.
Walk for their homecomings.
Walk for the babies that will go home to heaven.
Walk for all of the prayers that are answered.
Walk for the ones that are not.
Walk for the doctor's appointments, the issues, the delays, AND the milestones.
Walk for the emotions.
Walk for the answers.
Walk to raise awareness.
Walk to give hope.
Walk for the babies.
If you can't walk, how about a donation??
www.marchforbabies.org/kannaxt
Team Two Early has already raised over $3,500! Thank you so much for supporting the March of Dimes.
Walk for early labor, for PROM, for placenta previa, for preeclampsia, and for crappy cervixes everywhere.
Walk for premature babies on ventilators, C-Paps, and nasal cannulas.
Walk for infections, PDA ligations, immature lungs, blood transfusions, and teeny-tiny IV's.
Walk for long days and nights in the NICU.
Walk for feeding tubes. (We know Eliot will be walking for this one!)
Walk for the parents that sit in fear and wait.
Walk for the babies that are fighting for their lives.
Walk for their homecomings.
Walk for the babies that will go home to heaven.
Walk for all of the prayers that are answered.
Walk for the ones that are not.
Walk for the doctor's appointments, the issues, the delays, AND the milestones.
Walk for the emotions.
Walk for the answers.
Walk to raise awareness.
Walk to give hope.
Walk for the babies.
If you can't walk, how about a donation??
www.marchforbabies.org/kannaxt
Team Two Early has already raised over $3,500! Thank you so much for supporting the March of Dimes.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
march for babies - join us!
There is a story going around the blogosphere about a little girl named Maddie.
Maddie was born at 29 weeks, and, like all tough-willed preemies, she fought hard to survive her first few months. She had been home for over a year - big, beautiful, happy eyes and a HUGE personality; she meant everything to her parents. Maddie was doing very well, but a couple of weeks ago, she came down with some congestion and a cough. The next morning she was in the hospital, and the next day, Maddie passed away.
I have been completely torn up for days by the passing of this little girl. I didn't know Maddie, but her story was so much like my own children's. As preemie parents, we sometimes think that the roller coaster ride ends when we leave the NICU. But the struggles continue for these kids, and the repercussions of their early births continue to haunt.
My heart aches for this family - as if the long, awful trip through the NICU isn't enough. Now this? Life can be so unfair. Please pray for some peace for Heather and Mike Spohr - the parents of Maddie.
Prematurity can affect anyone at anytime. My contractions started at 20 weeks, and to this day, no one knows why. If Michael and I choose to have another child, no one can guarantee that my body will carry it to term. But, the March of Dimes is working to find answers, and that's why I am asking for your support.
Please come and walk with us on April 25th at Centennial Park at this year's March of Dimes, March for Babies. If you can't walk, consider making a donation . . .
Because babies like Owen and Eliot deserve to be honored for the fights that they have fought;
Because babies like sweet, little Maddie deserve to be remembered . . .
forever.
To read more about Maddie Spohr, please visit her web site: www.remembermaddie.com
To walk with or donate to Team Two Early, please visit: www.marchforbabies.org/kannaxt
Maddie was born at 29 weeks, and, like all tough-willed preemies, she fought hard to survive her first few months. She had been home for over a year - big, beautiful, happy eyes and a HUGE personality; she meant everything to her parents. Maddie was doing very well, but a couple of weeks ago, she came down with some congestion and a cough. The next morning she was in the hospital, and the next day, Maddie passed away.
I have been completely torn up for days by the passing of this little girl. I didn't know Maddie, but her story was so much like my own children's. As preemie parents, we sometimes think that the roller coaster ride ends when we leave the NICU. But the struggles continue for these kids, and the repercussions of their early births continue to haunt.
My heart aches for this family - as if the long, awful trip through the NICU isn't enough. Now this? Life can be so unfair. Please pray for some peace for Heather and Mike Spohr - the parents of Maddie.
Prematurity can affect anyone at anytime. My contractions started at 20 weeks, and to this day, no one knows why. If Michael and I choose to have another child, no one can guarantee that my body will carry it to term. But, the March of Dimes is working to find answers, and that's why I am asking for your support.
Please come and walk with us on April 25th at Centennial Park at this year's March of Dimes, March for Babies. If you can't walk, consider making a donation . . .
Because babies like Owen and Eliot deserve to be honored for the fights that they have fought;
Because babies like sweet, little Maddie deserve to be remembered . . .
forever.
To read more about Maddie Spohr, please visit her web site: www.remembermaddie.com
To walk with or donate to Team Two Early, please visit: www.marchforbabies.org/kannaxt
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
eliot's "gotcha day"
Eliot. My sweet Elie Mak, 
You've been home now for one full year. And since your first "Gotcha Day" on April 8, 2008, you have changed our lives with your captivating charm and amazing resilience.
Your first few days on this world were miserable. Miserable for everyone involved. Your father and I used every bit of our beings, every emotional resource we had, every favor we thought an angel could grant us to bring you out of the pain and unknown, and onto this beautiful world.
And then, a week later, there you were - emerging from absolute preemie hell into this teeny-tiny ball of strength and courage that had everyone filled with awe.
You have certainly had your share of speed bumps along the way. But you are SO MUCH more than your past. You have refused to let your rough start define you, and I am convinced that you will always have that attitude throughout your life.
"Delayed in this or slow on that; she may never do this, or be less able to do that . . ." You have never listened to a word of it. You MUST hear them though, because you continuously work on all of your "issues," and you practice. And then you practice some more - and when it's perfect (and not until it is perfect), you do what they said you would never do, and you do it with the cutest damn smile anyone has ever seen.
People that don't know you hear your story and say, "Ohhhhh. Poor Elie." But you hate that. Because you believe that there is nothing "poor" or lagging about you. You try to make the most of everything you've been given, and you seem to be on a path to prove that you are on this Earth for a reason. You are definitely gearing up to do great things in your life.
Sweet Beans, you must spit up more than any creature in the history of the world, but when you're done tossing your breakfast (or lunch, or dinner, or snacks, or piece of paper you have found on the floor and snuck into your mouth), you are the most delightful baby to be around. Your therapists don't want to let you go at the end of a session; your doctors hug you as if you were their own; your babysitters pat your butt to help you go to sleep because they can't bear the sound of your crying (although, they do the same to Owen, but only because they can't ignore him). You are just that kid. It's so easy to fall in love with you. One bat of those big blue eyes, one coy look in someone's direction, and you have them forever hooked.
Lover of reading books and spitting out Ritz crackers, of dancing to music, and anything daddy, of playing chase (but not understanding the rules of it, and playing "chicken" instead); lover of homemade tents, and audience applause, of g-tube chewing, and playing peek-a-boo, of watching people eat, and then HATING everything about food, you are undeniably stubborn - I mean, adorable.
And all of that is why we love you; why we are proud of you; and why we couldn't imagine our home without you. (Though the floors would probably have a little less puke stain.)
Congratulations, Eliot, on your one-year-at-home anniversary. We're glad we gotcha.
You've been home now for one full year. And since your first "Gotcha Day" on April 8, 2008, you have changed our lives with your captivating charm and amazing resilience.
Your first few days on this world were miserable. Miserable for everyone involved. Your father and I used every bit of our beings, every emotional resource we had, every favor we thought an angel could grant us to bring you out of the pain and unknown, and onto this beautiful world.
And then, a week later, there you were - emerging from absolute preemie hell into this teeny-tiny ball of strength and courage that had everyone filled with awe.
You have certainly had your share of speed bumps along the way. But you are SO MUCH more than your past. You have refused to let your rough start define you, and I am convinced that you will always have that attitude throughout your life.
"Delayed in this or slow on that; she may never do this, or be less able to do that . . ." You have never listened to a word of it. You MUST hear them though, because you continuously work on all of your "issues," and you practice. And then you practice some more - and when it's perfect (and not until it is perfect), you do what they said you would never do, and you do it with the cutest damn smile anyone has ever seen.
People that don't know you hear your story and say, "Ohhhhh. Poor Elie." But you hate that. Because you believe that there is nothing "poor" or lagging about you. You try to make the most of everything you've been given, and you seem to be on a path to prove that you are on this Earth for a reason. You are definitely gearing up to do great things in your life.
Sweet Beans, you must spit up more than any creature in the history of the world, but when you're done tossing your breakfast (or lunch, or dinner, or snacks, or piece of paper you have found on the floor and snuck into your mouth), you are the most delightful baby to be around. Your therapists don't want to let you go at the end of a session; your doctors hug you as if you were their own; your babysitters pat your butt to help you go to sleep because they can't bear the sound of your crying (although, they do the same to Owen, but only because they can't ignore him). You are just that kid. It's so easy to fall in love with you. One bat of those big blue eyes, one coy look in someone's direction, and you have them forever hooked.
Lover of reading books and spitting out Ritz crackers, of dancing to music, and anything daddy, of playing chase (but not understanding the rules of it, and playing "chicken" instead); lover of homemade tents, and audience applause, of g-tube chewing, and playing peek-a-boo, of watching people eat, and then HATING everything about food, you are undeniably stubborn - I mean, adorable.
And all of that is why we love you; why we are proud of you; and why we couldn't imagine our home without you. (Though the floors would probably have a little less puke stain.)
Congratulations, Eliot, on your one-year-at-home anniversary. We're glad we gotcha.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
owen's "gotcha day"
Owen. My crazy, little Owie,
You've been home now for one full year. And since your first "Gotcha Day" on March 17, 2008, you have changed our lives with your fearless spirit and mischievous smile.
When you were only a few hours old, you defied medical odds and showed the doctors that you were ready for this world. "How could it be that this baby is doing so well?"
No one understood, but boy, were we grateful.
Strength was something you possessed from the very beginning, even when you were a mere two and a half pounds. The meaning of your name - young warrior - fits you perfectly. In fact, if we could bottle your determination and sell it, we could probably afford to pay all of your sister's medical bills.
What is wonderful about you is that your strength comes from your good attitude. Lover of meal time and long afternoon naps, of eskimo kisses and daddy zerberts, of crawling on the grass and climbing on dining room chairs; lover of grandparents and big dogs, of crib jumping and obstacle courses, of playing in the dishwasher and chewing on windowsills - you are unique and oh so loveable. Wherever you go, whatever you do, you will continue to engage everyone with your friendly personality. It's as if you smile and say, "Come with me! We're sure to have fun along the way."
The video camera shakes with giggles when I am filming you; the way you laugh - with zero reservation or control - makes my heart happy; the way you want to do everything you're told NOT to do makes me worry about the one cabinet door in the kitchen that still isn't latched.
And all of that is why we adore you; why we are proud of you; and why we couldn't imagine our home without you. (Though it probably would be a little less messy.)
Congratulations, Owen, on your one-year-at-home anniversary. We're glad we gotcha.
- Mom and Dad
Celebrating outside.
Beanie trying to get some face time with the camera.
Owen's "Gotcha Day" cake.
Yummy! This is WAY better than the pea soup you just tried to feed me!
Friday, March 6, 2009
march for babies 2009
Last year, we were humbled by the generous support that we received from our friends and family to walk in the March of Dimes, March for Babies. So, this time around, we decided to set a bigger goal, and ask that you not only sponsor our team with your donation, but that you also consider giving your time.
In addition to our monetary goal of $5,000, our other goal this year is to recruit 112 walkers to join our family team, Two Early.
112??? Are you serious?
After the longest months of our lives, we finally had BOTH Owen and Eliot home - after 112 days.
This year, as we watch in awe how our twins have progressed since their scary roller coaster journey through the NICU, we want to celebrate the 112 days of fighting and thriving by having one person represent each of their days in the hospital.
Join our team, Two Early, so you can help the March of Dimes continue its fight. Walk with us on April 25th and support babies around the country - those born prematurely or with a birth defect; babies who didn't survive; and healthy, full-term babies, as well.
There's a place for everyone. So, put on your sneaks, and grab your spouse, partner, friends, neighbors, kids, and walk with us - five miles around the beautiful city of Atlanta. When you arrive back at Centennial Park, there will be music, dancing, food, and games and toys for the kids. It is one huge celebration.
To be a part of Team Two Early, email me for more information, visit our team site, or simply click the purple banner to the right to sign up or donate. If you can't join us for the walk, please consider sponsoring our team with a donation. Every dollar makes a difference.
Thank you so much for your support.
In addition to our monetary goal of $5,000, our other goal this year is to recruit 112 walkers to join our family team, Two Early.
112??? Are you serious?
After the longest months of our lives, we finally had BOTH Owen and Eliot home - after 112 days.
This year, as we watch in awe how our twins have progressed since their scary roller coaster journey through the NICU, we want to celebrate the 112 days of fighting and thriving by having one person represent each of their days in the hospital.
Join our team, Two Early, so you can help the March of Dimes continue its fight. Walk with us on April 25th and support babies around the country - those born prematurely or with a birth defect; babies who didn't survive; and healthy, full-term babies, as well.
There's a place for everyone. So, put on your sneaks, and grab your spouse, partner, friends, neighbors, kids, and walk with us - five miles around the beautiful city of Atlanta. When you arrive back at Centennial Park, there will be music, dancing, food, and games and toys for the kids. It is one huge celebration.
To be a part of Team Two Early, email me for more information, visit our team site, or simply click the purple banner to the right to sign up or donate. If you can't join us for the walk, please consider sponsoring our team with a donation. Every dollar makes a difference.
Thank you so much for your support.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Sunday, March 1, 2009
HUGE news
Well, I hope you're sitting down because this is the biggest news ever. I mean it. This is HUGE.
Eliot said her first word on Friday. That's right. Her first perfect, beautiful word with a VERY clear voice.
Now, for those of you who are just catching on to the Eliot Axt saga, you probably think that a 14-month old baby should have babbled long ago, but . . . to put it mildly, sweet baby girl has had "issues" with her throat.
No one can forget Eliot's dramatic heart surgery in January '08 that saved her life, but paralyzed her left vocal cord. (God those days were rough.) We had already researched a procedure to pump her paralyzed cord full of collagen to give her a voice before she went to kindergarten in four years. FOUR years!!??!
Add to this a severe case of acid reflux that causes Elie to spit up over twenty times a day and gives her a constant swollen, sore throat. Here is a baby who completely gave up eating and using her voice because, quite simply, it just hurt. She has never muttered anything even remotely close to a comprehensible word. Ever.
Plus, there was talk - ironically, just last week - that there might be a neurological problem behind Elie's lack of talking. Possibly her brain wasn't able to process that her mouth and breath needed to work simultaneously. "Imagine watching someone run and having no idea where to start." That's how the therapist explained it to me.
So, not only is Elie crawling all over the house AND talking now, her reflux also seems to be calming down a bit (I am knocking on wood as I write this because I SO want it to be true, and not just me making up PollyAnna scenarios in my head). Could it be? Could it be that things are starting to come together for Elie Mak? Please, please, please.
I've got a clip to share of Eliot saying ma-ma. She is also saying ba-ba (her grandfather's name), but I haven't caught that on tape yet. But, you know what? Only having one word - this word - her first word - caught forever on tape . . . well, forgive me for being selfish, but ma-ma is just fine with me.
Eliot said her first word on Friday. That's right. Her first perfect, beautiful word with a VERY clear voice.
Now, for those of you who are just catching on to the Eliot Axt saga, you probably think that a 14-month old baby should have babbled long ago, but . . . to put it mildly, sweet baby girl has had "issues" with her throat.
No one can forget Eliot's dramatic heart surgery in January '08 that saved her life, but paralyzed her left vocal cord. (God those days were rough.) We had already researched a procedure to pump her paralyzed cord full of collagen to give her a voice before she went to kindergarten in four years. FOUR years!!??!
Add to this a severe case of acid reflux that causes Elie to spit up over twenty times a day and gives her a constant swollen, sore throat. Here is a baby who completely gave up eating and using her voice because, quite simply, it just hurt. She has never muttered anything even remotely close to a comprehensible word. Ever.
Plus, there was talk - ironically, just last week - that there might be a neurological problem behind Elie's lack of talking. Possibly her brain wasn't able to process that her mouth and breath needed to work simultaneously. "Imagine watching someone run and having no idea where to start." That's how the therapist explained it to me.
So, not only is Elie crawling all over the house AND talking now, her reflux also seems to be calming down a bit (I am knocking on wood as I write this because I SO want it to be true, and not just me making up PollyAnna scenarios in my head). Could it be? Could it be that things are starting to come together for Elie Mak? Please, please, please.
I've got a clip to share of Eliot saying ma-ma. She is also saying ba-ba (her grandfather's name), but I haven't caught that on tape yet. But, you know what? Only having one word - this word - her first word - caught forever on tape . . . well, forgive me for being selfish, but ma-ma is just fine with me.
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