Craniosynostosis: A Response From A Dad

It is no small, strange thing, the feelings that come to the surface this month. We are forced to pause and reflect upon the path that our lives have been lead down over the last five years. All because of one long, scary, word that we did not know before our daughters birth. Craniosynostosis.

We look back and see what we have all endured. Kati and I, as we became parents. As we watched our daughter defy the odds that she was given, and face greater challenges than many of her peers. With every vlog, conversation, tweet, blog, and post, we have relived some of the nightmares that we barely made it through. There have been more solemn nights over this past month, then during the entire year that has lead up to September.

But, it is not all bad. Over the same time we have been able to look back at all of the accomplishments. We look out our window and see our sweet daughter climbing a tree, and hanging upside down. This child for which we were told may not walk. We listen to the laughter ringing through the house, and the stories that she tries to tell us. This child for which we were told may not talk. Granted, it is in a language that only we can understand, but we understand. We reflect on old movies and pictures showing each and every surgery she has been through. Breathing a sigh of relief we see how far she has come. This sigh is hesitant as we know not the road before us.

Though the fires that have hardened us, the mountains that have climbed, we have been made strong. We have found that our greatest strength has lied within our darling daughter. Resilience, repose, defiance, independence, all these and more are her forte. From her we have drawn much into ourselves. We thrive on the tears and laughter, always the laughter. The pain and discomfort that we feel with this time of recollection outmatched and outpaced by the revelry and ballyhoo of where we are.

Craniosynostosis, you are what WE make YOU.

But, in the stillness of the night, there are still the hard moments. The ones that draw out of us the words that no one else is saying. That compel us to write them down, exposing our fears to the world. Posts like this one, by my beloved, that floors me. We scream into the wind out of frustration, begging for others to relinquish their positivity, for just one moment. To be real about this world that we live in. To become better beacons of hope, real hope, for those that are sailing the uncharted seas with us. Especially to those whom have found themselves in the eye of the hurricane that is this world, per manum Dei.

We cannot live in fear of inadequacy. For all of us that are in this world of Craniosynostosis should have realized…

Our children have taught us better.

Live big, love bigger, and be kind, always

What Happens When You Don’t Want to Go Back?

There’s something interesting that happens to the way people respond to situations after we go through stuff. You know, the kind of stuff that no one asks for, but that of which everyone has some version. Stuff that shapes who we are and how we relate to the world around us. If I am talking about all the craziness our family has gone through with Zoey, September is that month for me in a nutshell. I’ve struggled with what to call it because different groups have different names for it, but here’s what I’ve realized this year about my personal relationship with cranio. For our family, and perhaps for other cranio families out there too, September signifies Cranio Awareness Month. It is a month where we hold our purple ribbons high with hundreds of fans behind us in educating the masses about the often hidden world of craniosynostosis. It is an important role, and we take it seriously. (I mean, have you seen our blog?) Additionally, September also signifies Cranio Acceptance Month, which is a harder pill for me to swallow. Should children with cranio be accepted for who they are? Absolutely! Have I accepted the change cranio means for my own family? In all honesty, that depends on the day for me. It is easy to become bitter when I am faced with real-life obstacles every day that many around me don’t have to worry about. It is easy to get angry when I allow myself to think back to the scariest of moments, during those procedures where my child was held unconscious so that her skull could be carefully removed and rearranged like a jigsaw puzzle. And it is easy to get depressed when I remember that, for all that has happened, the scary chapters in the story aren’t over yet. For Zoey we haven’t reached the “other side” of her procedures, because there is always at least one more in the distance. The general window of time we were given for her next cranio surgery is while she is 5 to 6 years old. Zoey was 5 last April…

What happens when September rolls around and you don’t want to go back? When remembering isn’t just remembering, because it is also planning ahead?

Friends, we are half-way through September, and it is Craniosynostosis Awareness Month. Our family is now mid-way through a brand new series of Cranio Vlogs, each of which answers a common question people have about Cranio. There’s a lot of good information in there, please check them out!

In case anyone is wondering why have I not posted about this until now, it is because September is also Craniosynostosis Acceptance Month. I blame not having time to write. But when evening comes, the kids go to sleep, and my laptop comes out, I am constantly faced with the inevitable truth that it’s not over yet. I don’t get to talk freely about cranio as something that happened back when Zoey was a baby. I understand the process in my head, but I am wrestling with it in my heart. It may not be this way for others, but for me it is much easier to accept the unknown and brand new. I love the adventure of new places and new experiences. Even when new things are hard, I still love the challenge. My cranio baby is 5 years old. She is an amazing kid, but cranio as a diagnosis not new anymore for me. It’s more terrifying than exciting, and I know every detail of what is coming. Sometimes knowing what’s happening is 100 times worse. I want it to be over, yet here we are facing it all over again. September is Craniofacial Acceptance Month. My daughter has craniosynostosis.  Every day she gives me reason to live big, love bigger, and be kind always.

Our 5th September

It’s hard to believe we are already celebrating our 5th September as a family affected by a child with craniosynostosis. Celebrating because there are so many mini-milestones that became so important, new struggles that have been overcome, and constantly new obstacles that only God knows how we grow and move ahead through them. Zoey has brought an amazing, unique perspective to my world. She never stops trying, never gives up, and faces every struggle head on. In her mind there is never another option but to make life work so that she can participate to the max. She has inherited every ounce of stubbornness from both my husband and me, and has used it all in the best possible ways. She helps me to appreciate what I might have otherwise taken for granted, and encourages me to find new pathways when the common routes don’t seem to work for us. So yes, today we kick off our celebration of another September dedicated to the awareness and acceptance of craniosynostosis. Join us and maybe learn something new!