I was with God.

Not in a physical sense, but in a spiritual one.

He was asking those questions that He so often poses throughout scripture.

You know, the questions He obviously already knows the answers to, but asks anyway.

Hoping that you will take a moment to reflect upon your need for Him.

Do you trust me?

Yes.  (I mean it. My heart fills with the warmth of certainty.)

Will you surrender yourself to Me?

I will.  I do. (I release the last of my lingering grasps on earthly things.)

My body experiences an immediate weightlessness.

My fears are  lifted.

My anxieties disappear…

until only peace remains.

Peace mixes with the warmth of certainty, overwhelming my soul, threatening to burst forth from my chest.

My feet begin to leave the ground.

I’m floating.

Do you trust Me?

Yes!

Surrender yourself to Me.

I will.  I do!

Now, I’m flying!

My faith grows stronger still.  I’m lifted further.

Realization strikes me…

The height of my flight is directly related to the depth of my belief.

I glide through the sky, never having felt closer to Jesus.

Joy.  Complete Joy.

I am whole.  Fulfilled.  Lacking in nothing.

My feet return to the ground, and I want to shout from the mountains.

I race to the home of some very dear friends.

Faith-filled friends.

Believers who trust and strive to surrender.

I tell them about my flying.  I want them to know the joy and exhilaration too.

We find ourselves outside on their deck, standing atop the railing.

Surrendering ourselves…completely to Christ.

We let all of it go.

Pain.

Guilt.

Worry.

Anger.

Strife.

We give it over to Jesus.

We trust Him completely, to be King of our lives.

Our feet leave solid ground behind.

We begin soaring…

to entirely new places.

Places that can be reached only through the weightlessness that comes from faith.

I had this dream in September 2009.  We were preparing to head to New York for Gabrielle’s fifth brain surgery.  I was anxious, doubting, questioning whether I could put my precious daughter through yet another surgery.  Surgery, with all of the risks and complications it can introduce. A surgery that would not necessarily promise freedom from seizures.  Days before we left, I awakened from the this dream.  It was so real and left me completely faith-filled.  Every doubt eliminated.  Every speck of unbelief erased.  I had only complete peace.  Complete serenity.  I was anxious for nothing.  Faith-filled to the very top and overflowing.  I was given a taste of God, a closeness never before experienced.  A vision of His magnificence, to carry with me behind dreary hospital walls. 

I’ve been trying really hard to make a big decision.  

I’ve been praying for a very clear answer. 

I’ve been talking through it, with anyone who will listen. 

A decision that will affect a beautiful five-year-old little girl who underwent a hemispherectomy for intractable seizures.  A decision that involves a spunky, blue-eyed angel, with left hemiplegia, who always manages to make me smile.  

A decision that will dictate who teaches this precious, special needs child how to read. 

A decision that will determine her daily influences, select her classmates, and establish her schedule five days a week.

For the last 2 1/2 years, Gabby has participated in the Exceptional Preschool Program at the local elementary school.  She attends three mornings per week, half-days, in a mixed classroom of about 12 students.  She has a wonderful teacher and a fabulous teacher’s assistant.  She loves her friends and really enjoys classroom activities. Gabby receives OT and PT services, weekly, on the school grounds.

Preschool has been a positive experience for Gabrielle.  She has been pushed and challenged to improve in many vital areas.  School has boosted Gabby’s confidence, increased her ability to function independently, and strengthened her communication skills.  Gabby’s fine motor skills are taking off and she is now forming letters.  She participates in circle time, follows instructions, and interacts appropriately with her classmates.  

 But preschool cannot last forever.

And as May approaches…

we have a decision to make.

What to do about next year??

Gabby is being recommended for a standard Kindergarten classroom averaging about 22 children.  She would attend school five full days a week and continue to receive services. Gabby would be pulled for extra help by the special needs teacher at her school.  This teacher happens to have a daughter of her own, with left-sided hemiplegia, who’s now in middle school.  She is all too familiar with the challenges that lay ahead of us.  This teacher offered to meet with me (out of the kindness of her own heart) and Gabby’s current teacher, to see if she could help make my decision any easier. (Incredibly nice, right?)  

I left that meeting more confused than ever.  

I arrived home with my head spinning.  Overwhelmed. 

Five days a week. 

Five full days a week. 

No exceptions, unless you have a medically fragile child. 

All or none. 

None or all.  

I asked Duff for insight.

“We would never see her.  She would be the family outcast.” 

Leave it to Duff to cut through to the very heart of the issue.;)

But seriously, he did.  

With those words he pierced this momma’s heart.  

He cut through all the uncertainties and insecurities… 

I’m not equipped.

I’m not trained.

I already have so much on my plate.

What if she has learning disabilities?

I’ll fail her.

It will be too hard.

I’ll be depriving her of what’s best.

I’ll limit her potential.

I’ll foster dependency.

I won’t push her hard enough.

directly to the part of my being that houses the deepest of loves for Gabby.

The part of my being that grew sick with nausea the first time my baby doll’s eyes rolled to the back of her head.

The part of my being that pleaded to be taken away from this earth rather than watch my child suffer.

The part of my being that sobbed as I washed the vomit away from her listless body after yet another medication had failed.

The part of my being that celebrated the miracle of a day without seizures.

The part of my being that researched epilepsy treatment into the wee hours of the morning.

The part of my being that flew her into New York in search of the best doctors.

The part of my being that slept upright in hospital chairs.

The part of my being that went 7 days without a shower.

The part of my being that spent months in the hospital.

The part of my being that would do it all over again.

All of it.

Because this part of me houses a love, that only a mother/father can know and understand.

A love that has patience when frustration seems the only choice, courage in the midst of trembling fear, perseverance against all odds, and sacrifice when there’s nothing left to give.

And this part of me wondered…

Who better to teach this little miracle…

and train her up in the way she should go?

Who better…. than her mother?

And so with much prayer for strength, patience, courage, endurance, and a self-sacrificing love, I will set my mind to the task of homeschooling my dear, sweet Gabrielle Faith.

Let me begin by mentioning how thankful and blessed I feel to be broaching this topic here on Gabby’s blog. If you know Gabrielle’s story, then you know how we painfully surrendered the expectation of a normal future for our little girl many times over.

I surrendered the expectation that my child would crawl, and walk, and talk. I surrendered the expectation that my child would feed herself, be potty trained, and climb in and out of bed.

I remember telling a few dear friends of mine (as I detailed the heartbreak, the miracles, the struggles, and the triumphs on this blog) how it had really become a dream of mine that Gabrielle would one day be able to *read* this blog and understand the amazing ways God had worked in her life.

As I shared this hope, I recall my eyes brimming with tears. The tears threatened to spill forth because I knew it would represent another miracle.

Another miracle I was frightened to hope or wish for. A milestone that could mean future independence. A milestone that would open so many doors to a bright and fulfilling future.

My Gabby, arriving at a place where she could read and understand written English, a miracle for sure.

So here I stand at the crossroads, about to embark on this journey, wondering if this will be part of God’s plan for my sweet princess, or not.

In trying to prepare and research the best approach, I accessed something that was filed away deep in the recesses of my mind.

I recalled reading somewhere, surely on another mom’s blog, how children with brain injury often learn best using a sight word approach in the first five years of development.

Upon googling, I immediately came across two books by Glen Doman: How To Teach Your Baby To Read and What To Do About Your Brain-Injured Child.

I was so anxious to read the books and get started, that I forgot to order kindle editions. Two days later my paperback books arrived, which I shall forever cherish as collector’s items, or more likely pass onto another mom.

I began reading How To Teach Your Baby To Read first, and found it to be very informative, logical, and exciting.

I taught my four oldest children to read using the phonics approach, and therefore I’m pretty familiar with the tedious struggles that it can introduce. It takes a lot of juggling and perseverance for the typical five year old to master all the different sounds and rules, in order to become a successful reader.

This book is inspirational because it argues that a child can grasp the written word, just as easily as the spoken word, if it’s introduced correctly and at the appropriate time (ideally in the first five years).

Heck, I thought, I can teach my three youngest to read simultaneously. And I was off….

Watch out world! I ordered a giant box of bold-tip red markers and a life-time supply of poster board, which arrived today. I’m ready to get started and will surely let you know how this goes.:)

As far as Glenn Doman’s other book goes, What To Do About Your Brain Injured Child, I’m half-way through and it is wow. Just wow. Now mind you, I studied psychobiology/neuroscience for my college major, so I’ve always found this kind of stuff interesting. But people, this book is completely fascinating.

If you have a brain-injured child, it’s a must read.

Are you treating the symptom or the problem itself? That’s all I have to say.

Right now I’m off to make flashcards. Lots and lots of large flashcards, with red bold print.:)

Goodnight.

Gabby was super excited to turn 5 this year. When asked what she wanted for her birthday…she responded,”I want presents, birthday cake, and ice cream!”

One week before her party she spotted a large brown shipping box in my closet.

She inquired,”What’s in that box, Mommy?”

I shared that the box contained presents, and her eyes grew large as saucers and a huge smile spread across her face.

“Presents for my birthday, Mommy?”

I assured her that she was correct.

We continued on with our morning routine, getting dressed and groomed for school.

We headed downstairs for breakfast.

Twenty minutes later she came up to me and said,”I love the presents for my birthday!”

She was just soooo excited!

We kept the party small. (Just our family, plus Uncle Russ and Aunt Nancy.)

We didn’t want Gabby to get lost in the busyness of a larger gathering.

We had all of Gabby’s favorites.

Pigs in blankets.

Pizza.

Candy corn.

Chips.

Ice cream cake.

The cake balls were something new, and she refused to try them.

And lots of presents!

She needed help with the ribbon but managed to do a lot of the unwrapping independently this year.

Strawberry Shortcake dolls.

A Barbie car.

Snap ‘n style dolls.

Books.

“Ice cream card” (McDonalds Gift Card)

She loved it all!

Then we lit the five pink candles. And with a little rotational help from Aunt Nancy, Gabby managed to blow them all out!

I’m pretty sure my little princess did not make any wishes, but her mommy did.:)

Wishes for many more years like this one…

Full of growth, milestones, accomplishments…

for my beautiful little miracle.

Being the mother of a special needs child can be challenging.

It can be exhausting.

It has many, many amazing rewards while at the same time it can be so very difficult.

Your child needs you in every way a typical child does in terms of meeting their basic needs, structure, discipline, and sharing time together, but there is also so much more.

Medical appointments, medication, developmental delays, therapy, orthotics, stretching, exercises, IEPs, and research, can consume a great deal of your time and energy.

The additional responsibility of being you child’s advocate, consistently fighting for what your child needs to excel, can be daunting.

Mom guilt abounds in an entirely new way.

Did I cause this?

We haven’t practiced handwriting.

The constant struggle of discerning when to help and when to stand back and let her struggle wears me down.

And then you find that person who helps shoulder the load.

A person who listens to all your worries and concerns.

A person who helps you navigate this life with a special needs child.

This week we took a moment to thank that very special person for everything she does to help our Gabby.

Below is the letter I wrote (from Gabrielle’s perspective) to our very favorite Physical Therapist (Betsy Murphy) at Abilitations Children’sTherapy. http://www.actwc.com/

Dear Betsy,

Cutely Yours,
Gabby O’Melia

Today I am raising an Ebenezer.

I am placing a stone, as Samuel did, to mark the place where the battle was won.

A stone to mark the place where victory was achieved with the Lord’s help.

I’m placing a stone to remind me of God’s faithfulness.

A stone to remember those darkest days of sorrow.

A stone to acknowledge the power of prayer.

I am placing a stone to express gratitude. A profound thankfulness for a fresh beginning.

I am placing a stone because we humans are forgetful. Time passes and the amazing intricacies of what God has done in our lives begin to fade. The details blur and grow fuzzy.

We begin to forget that we serve the same amazing God of the bible. A God of miracles. A God of love and mercy. A God who will never leave us nor forsake us.

I am placing a stone to mark 2 years of seizure freedom for our beautiful Gabrielle.

Then Samuel took a stone and set it between Mizpah and Shen, and named it Ebenezer, saying, “Thus far the LORD has helped us.” —1 Samuel 7:12.

I could not possibly express this challenge any better than Charles Spurgeon did below.

“It is certainly a very delightful thing to mark the hand of God in the lives of ancient saints. How profitable an occupation to observe God’s goodness in delivering David out of the jaw of the lion and the paw of the bear; his mercy in passing by the transgression, iniquity, and sin of Manasseh; his faithfulness in keeping the covenant made with Abraham; or his interposition on the behalf of the dying Hezekiah. But, beloved, would it not be even more interesting and profitable for us to remark the hand of God in our own lives?” -C.H.Spurgeon

What has the Lord done in your life???

And you guessed it- Preggers!

I don’t function well when I’m pregnant. I feel really sick for the first few months. Stomach flu sick. Then the fatigue and baby brain settle in, rendering me completely useless.;)

All things optional are thrown out the window, including blogging of any kind.

But, I’m back! And all the difficult days were entirely worth it! Gabby became a big sister in March, to a new baby brother named…

Logan Robert

He is the sweetest little guy and we all just love him to pieces!! Such a precious gift!!

Gabby has been very good with baby Logan for the most part. She does have her moments…but don’t we all??

Where do I even begin to catch you up on everything going on with Gabby?!

Let’s start at the very beginning:

Two.

Pink.

Lines.

A positive pregnancy test and you add another face to the family portrait. You mentally install another carseat in the maxed out mini van. You set another place at the table. You order another stocking to hang from the mantle.

From the moment you discover that a new life is being knit together, expectations abound.

You hear the galloping heart beat and see four tiny limbs fluttering about. Your child is running on the playground; chasing after a soccer ball.

You learn the baby is a girl. She’s dancing, twirling, tossing her hair through the air. She’s pushing baby dolls that quickly turn into grandchildren, as your vision speeds through all the wonderful years ahead.

Your daughter is born with ten tiny toes, chubby cheeks, and bright blue eyes. She’s taller and thinner now…all in white, carrying a beautiful bouquet.

Your sweet girl is cooing and smiling at you. What will be her first word? When will she crawl?

Your baby is peacefully nursing and suddenly,

without warning,

every expectation is erased.

Seizures. Catastrophic Epilepsy. Medically Refractory. Cortical Dysplasia. Brain Surgery. Mental Retardation. Dependence. Mentally Delayed. Physically Challenged.

The labels are numerous.

You’re mourning the loss of the child you had imagined. The child you had expected.

You bargain, you question, you beg…

And God responds:

Trust Me. All things work together for good to those who love Me, to those who are called according to My purpose.

Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.

You surrender it all. Every hope, Every dream, Every assumption. The slate is wiped clean.

But Lord, How can this be good?

Be still and know that I am God.

Lay down your pen child. I am the Author of this story

And now, four years later, you begin to see the beauty of a slate that has been wiped completely clean.

You begin to see the beauty of surrender.

Because as promised, a good and wondrous thing happens…

Gifts.

Everything becomes a gift.

And here are the amazing and wonderful gifts God has chosen to fill our precious Gabrielle’s slate with:

- Gabby is the sweetest, most affectionate little girl.

- She’s so quick to smile and laugh.

- She LOVES books.

- She’ll find a bookshelf and sit in front of it for hours flipping through pages.

- Gabby loves: macaroni and cheese, cereal, pizza, yogurt, cheese and crackers, apples, chocolate milk, sweet tea, chicken nuggets, grilled cheese, and SUGAR! Anything else is risky.

- Gabby has 4 “best friends” at school.

- Gabby knows her colors, numbers 1-10, alphabet, and shapes.

- Gabby enjoys watching Dora, Caillou, Diego, and Leapfrog.

- She loves playing dollhouse, kitchen, and dolls with her sister Makinley.

- Gabby holds a pencil correctly and is able to make horizontal and vertical lines, circles, crosses, and is working on triangles.

- She’s learning to use scissors with righty and stabilize paper with lefty.

- She’s learning to dress and undress herself but still requires moderate assistance.

- Gabby independently uses the stairs.

- She climbs in and out of a regular twin bed.

- She loves to have her “computer time”, during which she lives on PBS and Starfall.

- Gabby feeds herself and can drink from an open cup.

- Gabby can lower pants and underwear to jump on the potty independently. Pulling them up is more difficult but she’s getting there.

- Gabby speaks in sentences but effort is required to put her thoughts into words. She especially struggles with more abstract concepts.

- Gabby has a stubborn streak. I usually appreciate this spunkiness but it can wear on me.

- Gabby has been seizure-free since last surgery.(9/2009)

- Gabby thinks she owns my iPhone and is quite good at finding her favorite apps.

- Gabby gives the BEST one-armed hug around!

- She says “I Love You, sooo much Mommy” daily.

“Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow.” James 1:17

She ate chips without dip and drank sweet tea.

She opened presents….

She was positively glowing.

Even when little Kin-Kin mutilated her castle cake she kept on smiling.

So thrilled to have her family sing “Happy Birthday”.

And tried her very hardest to blow out the candles.

What a blessing to celebrate Gabby’s 4th birthday!

Here is a quick video clip of Gabby’s first impression of the balloon bouquet she received when the music began playing:

I can’t believe it!

She has been through so much.
We have been through so much.

So many trials. So many miracles.

Obstacles. Accomplishments.

A little life woven together such a short time ago that has touched so many lives.

And none of it will be unredeemed. Imagine that!

To celebrate all the amazing things God has done in and through her life so far, I created the following video:

Here are the lyrics to Selah’s song, Unredeemed :

The cruelest world
The coldest heart
The deepest wound
The endless dark
The lonely ache
The burning tears
The bitter nights
The wasted years

Life breaks and falls apart
But we know these are
Places where grace is soon to be so amazing
It may be unfulfilled
It may be unrestored
But when anything that’s shattered is laid before the Lord
Just watch and see
It will not be unredeemed

For every choice that led to shame
And all the love that never came
For every vow that someone broke
And every lie that gave up hope
We live in the shadow of the fall
But the cross says these are all
Places where grace is soon to be so amazing
It may be unfulfilled
It may be unrestored
But when anything that’s shattered is laid before the Lord
Just watch and see
It will not be unredeemed

Places where grace is soon to be so amazing
It may be unfulfilled
It may be unrestored
But you never know the miracle the Father has in store
Just watch and see
It will not be
Just watch and see
It will not be unredeemed

Summer of 2007: Gabby spent much time visiting doctors, completing testing, and undergoing a right frontal lobectomy at Duke.

Summer of 2008: Gabby spent at NYU undergoing a 3 stage surgery which resulted in functional hemispherectomy.

Summer of 2009: Gabby’s seizures returned bringing us back to NYU for more testing and the completion of an anatomical hemispherectomy.

Summer of 2010: Gabby had fun!!!!

She swam. She played in sprinklers,
spraygrounds, and sandboxes.

She went to the fireworks. She ran barefoot.

She went down a water slide. She enjoyed her cousins’ company.

She jumped on the trampoline. She licked ice cream until it ran down her shirt. She picked blueberries.

She ate homemade pizza in her bathing suit. She ran around playgrounds. She danced to her favorite music.

She smiled. She laughed. She lived, free of wires, bandages, machines, doctors, and hospitals.

Thank you Lord, for this summer.