Inspiration

The holidays always get me thinking about inspirations. 

People who inspire me to do more. 

To be a better person. 

I still have a lot of work to do. 

It's hard being selfless. 

It's hard to stop your mouth from sputtering out negative things. 

I really need to work on that. 

I can become a bit too gossipy about people and I don't like that about myself. 

Did Mother Theresa gossip about so-and-so's husband?  

I think not. 

Now I know I'll never be anywhere close to Mother Theresa, but I do try to do things that help others. 

There's our whole license plate thing we are still working on. 

I don't do it for myself. 

I'm doing it for my daughter. 

And for Jake. 

And for the thousands of kids I don't know who have cancer. 

Or who don't yet know they'll have cancer. 

Because it can happen to anyone's kid. 

And it sucks. 

I'm inspired by the doctors who choose pediatric oncology as their chosen field. 

And the pediatric oncology nurses. 

They have to poke the kids with those sharp, frightening needles. 

There's my friend Carla who is currently a surrogate for a gay couple. 

She's been a surrogate one other time as well. 

Yes, it's a contracted situation. 

She carries a baby, they pay her. 

But who does that?!

Carrying a baby for someone else is hard!

The injections, the pills, the nausea. 

But she's giving these people the ultimate gift. 

A child of their own. 

How inspiring is that?!

People who go above and beyond to help people they don't even know inspire me to no end. 

Who inspires you?

A Big Idea From Lemons

I use Facebook a lot.
I like to read what's going on in my friends' lives.
I like seeing pictures of people's kids, pets, vacations.
I also like seeing what others are doing for the world of childhood cancer.
Fundraisers, magical gifts given to sick children, celebrity endorsers.
But it's the parents of children who have gone through the horrors of cancer who are the real go-getters.

Parents who have waited in the other room while their child receives radiation to their brain or spine.

Parents who watch their child become transformed by medications.

Medications that are simultaneously killing them and curing them.

Parents who lose sleep over the fact that this life their child is living is NOT the life they had envisioned for them.

I am one of those parents.

And it was on Facebook that I saw that another state in the U.S. had a license plate that it's citizens could purchase to raise money for childhood cancer research.

This license plate had raised MILLIONS of dollars for the cause.
I looked at the Illinois Secretary of State website.
There are license plates for breast cancer, ovarian cancer, autism, baseball teams, college teams, environmental plates and pet license plates.
But nothing to help raise funds for childhood cancer.
A group of diseases ranging from leukemia to brain tumors.
A group of diseases that kills more children than any other disease.
More than diabetes, pediatric AIDS, asthma, and cystic fibrosis combined.
The questions started rapidly popping up in my head...
Why don't we have a childhood cancer license plate in Illinois to raise funds for research?
Who can I ask about this?
Who do I know that would know what to do?
The answer appeared in my high school Junior Homecoming date and long time friend Mark.
The guy who brought my daughter a cooler full of snow to play with in her hospital room when she was fighting against cancer during a blizzard.

He's involved in politics in Springfield.

I asked him how I would go about doing this license plate thing.
He quickly replied with "I'm on it."

Since that day that I saw a Facebook post about another state's childhood cancer license plate my daughter and I have had the opportunity to meet Illinois State Senators, Illinois House Representatives, and the Governor himself.

We have been given a chance to give back to the science and doctors who have made it possible for our daughter to be in remission.

To give us hope for her future and for all children with cancer.

We wish we had never been put into this situation.

We wish our daughter hadn't been diagnosed with leukemia.

But she was.

And she's still here.

And we are trying to do great things with this sack of lemons she was given.

When life gives you lemons, you can make the most amazing lemonade around.

Doing It All

Days and weeks can go by now and everything seems ordinary.
The girls go to school.
Dinner together every night.
Zoe has a test on telling time on an old fashion clock with hands.
Dance and piano lessons.
The only thing that really makes Zoe seem different nowadays is her hair. Or lack thereof.
So, when we have days where childhood cancer, specifically Zoe's journey through leukemia, spills open in front of us we become exhausted.
Again.
There's my overwhelming desire to give back to those that have saved my daughter.
Ways to do that are sharing our story with everyone.
Her story.
Via pictures and news stories.
All to bring awareness to the affects of childhood cancer and what we can do to help ease the pain of treatments, to find cures.
I have no intention of exploiting my daughter and her disease.
Her struggles.
Her dreams.
But if people don't SEE things like a little girl without hair, a little girl that has had to endure chemo, a little girl who has had to overcome tremendous turmoil, a little girl who misses her friend who didn't survive cancer, they just don't care.
People are visual creatures.
Photos and words have impact.
And if we can give back somehow to the doctors and the medicine that have saved our baby, we will do that.
Zoe may not remember a lot of what life was like during the initial onset of her cancer.
But we are providing her with memories of what she has overcome.
We are providing her with memories of the good we are trying to do in this big bad world that has allowed her to get cancer.
Memories of amazing encounters with people we wouldn't meet if cancer hadn't entered her world.
Zoe met the Governor of Illinois.
And a State Senator.
When she was eight years old.
The Governor got down to her eye level and spoke to her about her braveness, her good heart, and her courage to help others.
A memory that will last forever.
We want her to have these impressions in the forefront of her mind.
Not always needles, nausea, surgery.
We are giving her hope for the good she can do in this world.
Because she can do it all...

I'll Take Those Heels With A Side of Sassy, Please

I don't want to be a frumpy mom.
At all.
I don't want to wear jeans everyday.
I don't want to wear a crappy bra anymore.
I'm more than that.
I don't want to forget who I was before I had kids.
The funky artistic person I used to be.
The dancer in me.
The writer in me now.
I did wear black to my own wedding for pete's sake.

I believe that if my girls see me and see that I love who I am and I don't care what others may think of my style, then they too will be more creative and free-spirited.
Uniqueness is not overrated.
It's the thing to do.
To be.

Living in the city helps you to be yourself more, I think.
You go out more and see people and you want to look your best.
In the country, you see the goats.
And the lady at the bank, but only through the triple pan glass from the car.
There's no lively walking down the street to a restaurant, showing of my new shoes anymore.
Now it's a hurried walk through a parking lot crowded with minivans and pickup trucks.

Winter doesn't help either.
I do enjoy the bundling up early Fall invites into my life.
Sweaters under blazers with a jaunty scarf.
But, I'm ready for ankle pants, heels, and jazzy tops.
I need to vamp up my hair with some accessories I think.
I need to find my style again.
I need to find the girl who used to wear flowered pants without a second thought.
I need to find the girl who used to wear orange.
I need to remember who I was before I became a hospital mom.
A mom whose sole purpose had become to save her daughter.
Hair didn't matter.
Shoes didn't matter.
We have fought the good fight and it seems we are winning.
I do know what's really important in my day to day.
Life.
I get it.
Really, really get it.
But, I think I can bring out the lipstick and dazzling earrings again.
I can wear the turquoise jewels with wild abandonment.
I can find myself and reintroduce my funky side to this plain Jane who has taken over.
But I do think I'll leave the flowered pants to the younger crowd.   

  

Our Year End Recap

It's the last day of 2012.
It's been quite a year for our family.
An end to chemotherapy for our now 7 year old.
Something I thought I would never have to say, yet couldn't wait to say!
We are hoping 2013 is full of nothing but good news for her.
Good news and good health.
And now, a pictorial review of our latest year that's just about behind us...

We celebrated our daughters turning another year older... 

We partook in holiday fun...

We went out of town to visit exciting new places and to also see familiar faces...

Little Rock

NASA

Galveston, Texas

state fair



Closer to home, Zoe represented Camp COCO at the Midwest Charity Horse Show and had a great week on Lake Bloomington with her fellow campers...

We heard two piano recitals...

Zoe participated in horse riding and standing lessons...

We decorated a tree in Central Park with our family for childhood cancer awareness...  

Gigi went to school for the first time...

And Zoe got eyeglasses...

We rounded up about 40 of our closest friends and family.

Friends who came from near and as far away as Texas and Omaha.

We gathered to walk for a cure.

To unite for hope and hugs.  

To remember Jake, who left us far too soon.

We battled on through the intense heat and drought of the summer by cannonballing into our pool and canoodling with our pets, including our newest addition Willie...

Zoe encountered fewer hospital stays in 2012, but they still existed for her. 

She was able to be "normal" though as she played softball and danced.



Zoe with her friend Zoe



We are hoping that the new year brings us much joy, more travel, more time with friends, and a new found happiness of childhood for Zoe.

Thanks for reading and Happy New Year!

My "Thankful" For Today

Thanksgiving is fast approaching.
A day which has really come to mean for most people a day to eat turkey, watch football, and to state our "thankfuls" on social media sites.
I am reminded of the biggest thank you I should bestow on someone who is in my life.
My thankful message goes to one individual who, without him, we wouldn't have any more thankful days to record.
I want to thank our pediatrician.
His name is Dr. Benjamin Brooks.

Our relationship began when we moved to Decatur in 2007.
We needed a new doctor and I had looked and looked before we loaded up the U-Hauls and headed south leaving our pediatrician at North Suburban Pediatrics in Evanston.
I like living in the digital age.
I like doctors and other professionals who have web sites.
I like being able to openly get information about someone, their view points, where they went to school, their views on vaccinations.
So, I scoured the world wide web and I kept coming back to one name...Ben Brooks.
I made an appointment for a visit shortly after we would be in our new house.
There was only one problem for me.
There had been no photo of this doctor.
So, as I waited in the examining room with my then two year old Zoe I was a bit apprehensive as to who would walk through the door.
I was thinking "old guy, white jacket, stethoscope around the neck."
Ugh.
But when the door opened I got quite a surprise.
In came a guy who was about my age, with a soul patch, earrings, and a studded leather belt.
The heavens opened up, light streamed in the tiny window, and I heard a melodic chorus of Hallelujah!

So, Dr. Ben Brooks has been our pediatrician since 2007.
We have seen him for all of the regular stuff...flu shots, a possible bead up the nose (which wasn't there by the time he looked up Zoe's schnoz), childhood vaccinations.
He came to see Gigi before she left the hospital after her birth in 2008.
My dad was in the room the day he came in to visit her.
He thought Dr. Brooks was one of our friends.
He was wearing a leather jacket and blue jeans.
Nope dad, that's our pediatrician.
It took him a while to believe it.

But everything went to a different level on September 7, 2010.
Dr. Brooks was on his game that day.
Had us come right into the office after I declared Zoe's symptoms that early Tuesday morning.
Wasted no time looking her over and having his associate examine her as well.
Called us right back in, sped us back to one of his examining rooms after he got the results of her bloodwork.
He cried tears as he told us that Zoe had leukemia.
He became a part of our family for life at that moment.
He will always be a part of our history.
We will forever be indebted to him.
He has saved our daughter's life.
He had on his Superman suit that day and helped save a life with his quick diagnosing.
Saved the life of my daughter that is my life as well.
If he hadn't been on his game that day and poo-pooed our concerns things may be different today.
I feel an indebtedness to him like no other.
He's in line with Zoe's oncologist.
Two men who have given us a great gift.
The gift of life for our daughter.
The gift of a future.

If Dr. Brooks' kids, or wife, or even himself need a kidney, they need to call me.
I'll give them one.
No second thoughts.
I am forever grateful to my pediatrician.
Earrings and all...

The last photo taken of Zoe before her diagnosis
and the last photo I've taken of her recently, Nov 6th.

What You Can Find Online...

I have acquired two new inter-web friends.
Carla and Laura.
Two ladies who I have never seen other than a picture on the computer.
Two ladies who live not too far from me so I hope that one day we can meet up.
Two ladies who are funny, caring, selfless people.
Both have a great story to tell...

Carla has three kids.
I clicked on her name just to be curious after she had posted a comment on Laura's blog.
She raises and kills chickens for her family to eat.
She likes to sew and laugh.
She loves Downton Abbey and bluegrass music.
She is also a gestational surrogate.
Can't get more amazing than that!
She has a blog that deals with her day to day life called Our Happy Chaos.
You will see pictures of her adorable family and her life on a rural Illinois farm.
She also has a blog describing her surrogacy journeys, Gest Another Day. 
She has already helped one family with the birth of a daughter and is on her way to helping a gay couple from Argentina fulfill their dreams of being a family of three.
I have so much respect for her.
It takes a very special person to do that for someone.
It's one of the most generous and loving things one human being can do for another.
Carla rocks!

Laura has two girls about the same ages as my own.
She has a super blondie like Gigi who sounds just as wild and funny.
She likes spending time with her family, being outdoors, and using her crockpot.
Side note: I have recently learned that the crock pot is like the queen of my kitchen!
Anyway, I found Laura when she posted something on a mutual friend's Facebook page regarding blogging and I asked her what her blog name was and it went from there.  
Other than being a super busy mom of two, she and her husband have hosted orphans in their home from Eastern European countries (Latvia I believe). 
Orphans.
No families.
No mothers or fathers.
All alone to fend for themselves in usually not the best of scenarios.
To host a child in your home that doesn't understand the language, that you will probably never see again, who may be afraid to hug you because this is one more person who won't be there because they live an ocean away...heartbreaking and humbling.
Laura has a strength that commands an award.
She talks about her orphan hosting experiences and her everyday life on her blog
Where Love Starts.     

The internet can find you all sorts of things these days.
There are so many things to see and to buy...new boots, a birdfeeder than looks like a cat, a new partner in life, and new friends.  
I hope you take the time to check out these two amazing people's blogs.
Blogging can be a somewhat lonely experience.
I for some reason felt compelled in 2010 to start writing online about my family and our life on our farm.
It's turned into a venue to discuss the difficult things our family has had to go through beginning in the fall of 2010.
It's hard to know if you should keep writing, is there anyone really reading?  
I know I'm reading and have found some great people because of it.
Laura and Carla.
Two amazing women with amazing lives and stories to tell.
Two new friends...
    



 

Don't Forget To Believe

I believe in pink.

I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner.

I believe in kissing, kissing a lot.

I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong.

I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls.

I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles.

~Audrey Hepburn

Another Day

Everywhere on the globe it's celebrated.
The first day of school.
It's always been a big deal.
You wear the new clothes you got especially for this occasion and you make sure you eat a healthy breakfast to try to start the new year off on the right foot.
When you have a child with cancer, those things are important of course.
But just the fact that you are driving someone to school and that she is yawning in the back seat staring glossy eyed out the window in the early morning hours and that she can stand in front of the school sign for yet another "first day of school" picture is a thrill indeed.
It's the joy of life that exudes from her face.
Even if she doesn't know it.
We know it.
And that's a really big deal.