Happy Birthday Whitty Woo...

Prologue:
Last December I was packing, saying goodbyes, doing the crazy Christmas Mom thing, and exhausted in my heart with where Whitney was in her therapies. One morning as Lily and I were playing with Whitney, Lily shared a dream that she had had the previous night. She began to tell me that I was in her dream. I was walking up a big hill and Whitney was behind me. Lily said that in the dream I was sad and worried about how Whitney was doing. She said that Whitney was 3 years old, and all of the sudden Whitney looked up at me and said, "Okay Mom, I am ready to come to you now." Then Whitney walked up the hill to catch up to me. When Lily shared this, she had no idea of how I had been feeling in my heart. I was stunned, teary, and told her that the Lord gave her that dream to help me. I have tucked that dream away in my soul over the course of this year. It has become my dream.

                                  ~~~

I have been excitedly anticipating writing Whitney's 3rd Birthday Blog for the past month. This is more than just a post. This is an exhale. This is a carefree laugh. This is a sunrise. This is an internal celebration of things I thought had died. This is a story of how GOD has touched our family, how He has visited us with unexplainable mercies and faithfulness. This is the story of my Whitty Woo, my daughter, my love.

I spent most of June waiting for Whitty's genetic testing results. Most of the doctors expected to find something 'different' regarding her chromosomes. It had been almost 5 months of hard, crushingly hard doctor and specialists appointments. It was a lot of evaluations that painfully pointed out all of the things in Whitty that were wrong, behind, late. Somewhere along the way my permanent stance became a brace, a bracing of my heart, my soul, for the 'what ifs' that were mounting up concerning Whit, concerning our family. Tim laid hands on her every night and prayed prayers of beauty and faith that I will keep secret between us and the Lord. My prayers however went something like this; HELP, Lord, grace!

6 weeks ago I drove home  to Florida, from home, with my Mom and  kids for a summer visit. We made it from here to Macon, GA, in 13 hours. As Cole, Lily and Owen swam that warm southern Georgia evening in the hotel's pool, I held Whitty and played with her in our end. As I watched the older three splash and chase and swim, my heart ached for the place that I feared Whitty was. I remember throwing her up into the air and catching her, letting the water slightly cover her face. As she opened and closed her glasses-less eyes, a fear set in. Like the realization of what was always there coming into a dreaded focus. The next morning, as I drove the Florida Turnpike, I started crying to my Mom.
Like really crying.

"Mom...when I was playing with her without her glasses I thought to myself how different her eyes look. They just look different then the other kids. I think there is something wrong Mom. I do."

That was perhaps the first time I ever said it out loud like that. I said a few things that I never had said before. Things concerning jealousy, pain, and messed up places in my heart.

As tears were streaming down my face my Mom mentioned that she was thinking to herself how big  Whitney's eyes looked to her that very same day.

That afternoon we spent most of our time in my parents pool like always. I was asking my parents how they thought I could help Whitney swim more independently in her baby life jacket.

The next day was my Mom's birthday.
Tuesday, June 25.
Something happened to Whitney that day. She swam on her own (in the floatation device) all day long. All. Day. Long. That night she was power walking up and down my parents hallway. She dropped a toy, bent down to pick it up, stood back up and was off.
She hasn't stopped since.

Perhaps it was the swimming.
Perhaps it was a miracle.
Something happened to her that day.
For the past almost three years she would make a developmental gain, and stay there, if not slightly regress, for about 6 weeks until the next gain was made. But not since June 25th. She has continued to gain strength, speed, independence and words. Lots of words.

We started speech therapy twice weekly, as well as physical therapy twice weekly when we came back to Michigan. When it is warm enough (don't even get me started on the weather) we take her to the pool.

Her chromosome test, the one so much of my thoughts revolved around for months and months came back negative.
Her muscular/nerve conduction test came back negative.
Her major lab work is negative so far as well.

In July we had an appointment with a sought after head neurologist here in Detroit. He had wild white hair and a fiery sparkle in his eye. He told us how great Whitney was. How we should not worry. How we should always keep her in swimming. He spoke words of life, and possibilities over her. I will forever love this man. We drove home from Detroit smiling. That was a miracle.

She walks now, consistently. She baby runs. She talks in 2 word, sometimes 3 word phrases. She is funny, talkative, demanding and as sweet as pie all in one. We cuddle in the mornings in my bed and she softly tickles my arm while she whispers "tickle, tickle" into my ear.  She makes us all hold hands at the dinner table, and then she starts to sing "God our Father".  She makes us all laugh, and she often hugs new people whom she meets. She has a wild, adventurous side, remarkable for someone who has just recently gained command of her body.
I love her.

As a Mom I was brought to some dark and scary places. She lost oxygen...but she is here.
Our journey with Whitney, in reality with all of my kids, still remains unknown.

However I feel it immensely important to communicate that my heart has been forever seared...and I do mean seared, with a love and honor for all of the Moms whose genetic tests don't come back negative. For the Moms who have had to find the grace to adjust their personal dreams and expectations for their children, for their lives. To the Moms who feel isolated, weary and alone in their journeys;  please know that I know that you are there.
I know that you are there.
I am not forgetting you.
Especially to some of the very special friends that I have that are still walking through their stories even I as write this.
Thank you.

So, without further adieu, here is my Whitty, my daughter, my love.
Happy Birthday Whitty Woo.
Looking forward to more times of chasing you around Trader Joe's and watching you dance baby girl.
" Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." James 1:17

And thanks to you!
To all of you who have shared in my story this year. I could not have made it without you!

Cue the music (Celebrate Good Times...)



power walking at the park

Love her profile



I KNOW...sweats in August IS UNBELIEVABLE!

 


Playing with Mr. Shane



I mean COME ON!!!

Ballerina Swimmer

They are pretty in love, I gotta say.

 

Mom and Dad's pool

After blood work in Detroit.

Ride bike, ride bike



Sleeping Bear Dunes

Bloom and Grow Forever