THEM…Campaign THEM!

It’s fitting that today, as we work in Kalisz to raise money for precious children fighting for their lives, that this blog memory popped up on my Facebook page:  Campaign THEM!

Here’s a portion…I really hope that you will read more and be encouraged!  xoxo b

…I studied Special Education in college.  When I became a teacher and it was time for the awards ceremony at the end of the year, I realized that none of my students would ever receive a special award from the school based on the school’s criteria.  After all, the school demanded great grades, superb attendance, active participation in school functions/sports/clubs/so forth, wonderful behavior.  As the list went on and on and on I realized that not a single student of mine would meet any of that criteria.

Why?

Because—they were crack babies or FAS kids.  They suffered from brain damage or constant epileptic seizures.  They had such severe learning disabilities that they couldn’t even read or spell rat/cat/bat/fat in the 7^th grade.  Some smelled so badly, it was required they took showers upon entering school premises in the nurse’s office for their sakes.  And, to be honest, the behavior of many of them was more gangster than Dangerous Minds.

Yet, to me, each and every one was so extremely and uniquely special.  Don’t get me wrong.  Many afternoons, when the school bell dismissed the swarm of teenagers, I sat behind my desk crying—amazed that I made it through another foul language-laced day filled with fights and security escorting students from my room.  There were even times I wondered if the student was going to or planning on harming me. 

And, still, each and every student remained special.  Somehow, in some way, I was able to look beyond what they had become to what they could potentially have in store.  In a sense, I felt as if I was the only one at times to think this way…

Click here to read more:  https://campaignthem.blogspot.com/2010/12/whats-so-special-about-you.html

Probably a decent product: The Smart Baby Sock.

After my son made his way out of his coma and ICU and out of the hospital…eventually…we were absolutely fearful to bring him home.

After all, we had gotten so used to a monitors and alarms and, well, basically being intubated to keep him breathing.

When you have a child that is high risk of dying and breathing and everything in between, and then you get to bring him home to live—you fear life as much as death.

And you don’t know how to watch your child and keep them alive.

You don’t know how to make them breathe.  You don’t know how to parent your child.  And you lose an awful lot of sleep.

You don’t sleep because you fear your child won’t make it through the night.  And then your child does—but that also means your opportunity for sleep is gone because now a new day has dawned.

My husband and I love God but lived in the reality that God gave us our baby and we were to use wisdom and discernment in watching this precious gift in our lives.

So, how did we manage to sleep in peace while making sure we were doing our best to monitor our baby through the night?

We bought a sleep apnea pad.

Yes.  It cost a fortune.  An absolute fortune.  And it was worth every penny.  The constant beeping (the sound we chose) allowed me to actually close my eyes and sleep at night, knowing that the beep was a good thing.  The alarm was a bad thing.

Well, unless you forgot to turn off the machine when you lifted your child out of bed.  Then the alarm was just an alarm.  Many chuckles came about from forgetfulness.

Whether this product is worth its weight in gold or not—I no longer have to live through to determine that.  My 3 are safely alive and breathing and past the devastating “stage” or risk of SIDS.  But if they weren’t, and I was raising Max all over again as an infant, I would most likely be the mom to invest in one of these.

Simply for a peaceful night of sleep.  Even as little as I might get.  Every minute is, well, just that.  At least a minute.

Here’s the link in case you want to check it out for yourself:

The smart baby sock

A tummy full of second helpings.

josephine was tossing and turning in her pack n play tonight while i was climbing a mountain of laundry. i would say conquering it, but it is so high, first i must climb it to conquer it.

and as much as i would return to her and stroke her face and shush her sweetly, her eyes would not remain closed, and she would not go to sleep.

i had literally just nursed her.

you have to understand.  my daughter is off the charts huge.  but for as big as she is (6 months old), she hardly nurses and eats very little solids.  i am just a solid cream cow.  all 3 of my nursing babies proved it to be true.  my sister always said i produce whole milk.  i believe her!

so, when i say i had just nursed my baby, that means she was probably fed a 5 course meal in one sitting.

yet, tossing and turning and turning and tossing took place.

and crying.  she kept looking at me and would cry.

technically i could have just let her cry herself to sleep.  or i could have rocked her to sleep.  but i did something else that i have not had to do too many times in her 6 short months of life.  i nursed my baby again.  she cradled right into my bosom, falling asleep.

and while she nursed, i rocked her.  i cradled her.  i hugged her.  and i cherished the moment.

and while i was holding my baby against my chest, i thought, “how blessed josephine is.”

not because i am her mom.

blessed because my baby was hungry, and i could feed her.

so many babies go to bed every night hungry, and here my daughter got a second helping of what it was she so obviously needed.

and it made me sad and grateful simultaneously.  sad for the children that are hungry.  and grateful that my daughter got exactly what she needed.

and so what remains is for me, for rich, for my children, for our foundation to work on the other part—work on making sure that other children, to the best of our ability, also go to bed fed…

***

stay tuned for more about this later and how you too can be involved!