tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67368765203133988692024-03-02T19:47:22.697-06:00To Love a RoseA South Korean Adoption Journal*Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.comBlogger214125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-77452436504430712722014-04-08T21:27:00.000-05:002014-04-08T21:43:41.662-05:00Answered Prayers - Travel Call and Court Date!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyYyDTpT1fDL77jRswyoQCyuiA-4YS_4GWbqp4Zd1ZMQ9FBIObkd4y_tsF3TMGc-Fg_xIG1VKTig3_mHyTZ6QPpbRKGzilfNYN0rE-F-1NofcxxIH1ZI1GLqeR_iC60i2BKhLt2WgJQxG2/s1600/hysteria.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyYyDTpT1fDL77jRswyoQCyuiA-4YS_4GWbqp4Zd1ZMQ9FBIObkd4y_tsF3TMGc-Fg_xIG1VKTig3_mHyTZ6QPpbRKGzilfNYN0rE-F-1NofcxxIH1ZI1GLqeR_iC60i2BKhLt2WgJQxG2/s1600/hysteria.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of the fabulous <a href="http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/">Hyperbole and a Half</a>.</td></tr>
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So yeah, that up there ^^^^^^^ is a pretty accurate description of how Mr. C and I felt today when we got the news that we finally had a c.ourt date to meet our son in K*re.a! I swear I did an actual <strike>happy</strike> crazy dance!<br />
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I thought I'd put up a timeline for those wondering; so you could see how our process has been in case you've been following along but not entirely sure of what was going on - ha! (That was ME most days!)<br />
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<b><u>Our Timeline</u></b></div>
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May 22, 2011: Sign on with adop.tion agency</div>
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October 18, 2012: Receive referral (match) with our son born December of 2011</div>
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July 2013: Complete newly required "2nd acceptance packet" (aka: a dossier)</div>
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August 2013: Submitted for em.igr*tion pe.rm*t</div>
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November 2013: em.igr*tion pe.rm*t approved!</div>
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December 2013: Submitted to court</div>
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April 8, 2014: C*urt date issued for May</div>
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May 16, 2014: C*urt date</div>
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That's a <i>very</i> simplified version of the process. There's been lots of hiccups and bumps along the way, but suffice it to say that we are here now; and we couldn't be more grateful to know that in a month we will be HOLDING our son in real life! It's a moment we've both been longing for.</div>
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I will not be posting too much more on here until Baby C is home; because it is the prudent thing to do. But, I wanted to update you all who have followed my story about today's fantastic news!</div>
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Thanks for following along and supporting us! I look forward to writing more when my son is home for good. :-)</div>
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*mandie*</div>
*Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-89112262451987292462014-03-30T19:33:00.002-05:002014-03-30T19:39:22.433-05:00Measure Your Life in Love: A Year (and a half!) of Adoption Care Packages<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Today, my son is 27 months old. I first beheld his sweet face when he was just 9 months old; and yet, I've still never had the privilege of viewing it in person.</div>
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It's so hard to wrap my mind around this adoption process sometimes. On May 22nd of this year, Mr. C and I will have been on this journey for three years. THREE years. Let's type that again and really think about it: THREE YEARS!!!!<br />
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<b>***NOTE: I realize this may be confusing for those following our timeline. We signed on with our adoption agency in May of 2011 with a different country program. A couple months later we were moved to the K*rea program due to the first program being temporarily shut down. Desmond was born that December, 2011. We got our referral of him on our anniversary in October of 2012; and we've been waiting to bring him home ever since.***</b><br />
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Most of our married life (5 1/2 years) has been spent either trying to get pregnant or trying to adopt. Many friends and acquaintances have had two children (in a couple cases, three!) in the time we've been trying to start a family and bring Desmond home.<br />
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I can honestly say I am at the end of my rope. I am tired. I am weary. I am SO incredibly over people telling me, "It's all in God's timing" or "God has a plan". YES, thank you kindly, I KNOW that. But, if you had missed out on YEARS of your first child's life due to ever-changing requirements, I doubt you would be so care-free in chiding me to "be patient". I think Mr. C and I have been plenty patient. It's time for favor. It's time for movement. It's time for our son to be home.<br />
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Last night, we were organizing photos from the past few years; and I noticed all the pictures from the numerous care packages we've sent Des through the years. It makes me break down into ugly sobs to see these; because with so many of them I remember telling Mr. C, "This will probably be the last one before we get to hold him in real life."<br />
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There were countless outfits sent that I had longed to dress him in myself. Countless toys I thought I'd watch him play with in person. Countless bath goods and snacks I thought I would have the opportunity to use. Yet, I've had to send them all on. It makes me incredibly sad.<br />
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I thought I'd try to compile all these photos into one place for posterity's sake. One day, years down the road, I hope that Des will look at this blog post and see how much we care for him, how much we are fighting for him, how incredibly worth it he was/is/always will be.<br />
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It's difficult to put into mere words; so, I think I'll just leave the pictures to do the talking. How do you measure "a year (and a half) in the life? How about love"...and care packages?!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_wGuwgFZAGNOWNDehN_erlccTlwk2N4kc7TqgKpGjpO8GGOWkOjEnIpOX1g8ZT1GMEO7qOHzEBPSwpZIuotCWWLCb_gcZnsqBkdIgvIHXkiyllmMXwcuWxg_tUEsSdEfRVSFv-9zPMRj/s1600/DSCN3578.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_wGuwgFZAGNOWNDehN_erlccTlwk2N4kc7TqgKpGjpO8GGOWkOjEnIpOX1g8ZT1GMEO7qOHzEBPSwpZIuotCWWLCb_gcZnsqBkdIgvIHXkiyllmMXwcuWxg_tUEsSdEfRVSFv-9zPMRj/s1600/DSCN3578.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first care package we sent Des in October/November of 2012. I just LOVED that cute raccoon hat!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjveZ7X705orA7SgY6PHJUf4dm5CzizqgR9hyoEHEp1p05k-UmkVfKupN1P-DMFWXgPAA-YFT8656Qup8VniWsZfzPUyp0t7sIcrHj3kdCFCX8buCSUePShEY5hPYLAd6ygtzn6-IL0EXId/s1600/DSCN3579.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjveZ7X705orA7SgY6PHJUf4dm5CzizqgR9hyoEHEp1p05k-UmkVfKupN1P-DMFWXgPAA-YFT8656Qup8VniWsZfzPUyp0t7sIcrHj3kdCFCX8buCSUePShEY5hPYLAd6ygtzn6-IL0EXId/s1600/DSCN3579.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We made a Build-A-Be*r doggy for his first care package. In his paws are recorded messages from us both saying we love him in K*rean. We have since seen MANY photos of this dog at his foster family's house. The t-shirt and hat are long gone, but it makes us both feel so good to know something we sent is so well-loved.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPPk8bF8E5aKuEK4xHhYkH9DLLdOceomAPA93uii0aXWXBjaYQ3nK0D5A5wXOhdNDMD2_FYdguSqI5F463pRxxUI9e05JU1QhlLlKVOVt-usmBzTnw-5bXj9KQeVNRZONk27CMSRrAiBM5/s1600/DSCN3659.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPPk8bF8E5aKuEK4xHhYkH9DLLdOceomAPA93uii0aXWXBjaYQ3nK0D5A5wXOhdNDMD2_FYdguSqI5F463pRxxUI9e05JU1QhlLlKVOVt-usmBzTnw-5bXj9KQeVNRZONk27CMSRrAiBM5/s1600/DSCN3659.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">December 2012 care package. These were gifts for his birthday, but it had to go in with his Christmas package since his birthday is only 5 days later.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGRQGV0b88v6kNIJbPN8I_e3pyeSF2bBAGlwaDjcFsKZotMtTdn3zYBZf_wgOTqFDKmFsbZufsQPieuNkJwa0guNU_ew4n9k4-L96eYa9NVS5hsmx4l9FyfGC-TshH_pEi5HuNac1R92x2/s1600/DSCN3661.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGRQGV0b88v6kNIJbPN8I_e3pyeSF2bBAGlwaDjcFsKZotMtTdn3zYBZf_wgOTqFDKmFsbZufsQPieuNkJwa0guNU_ew4n9k4-L96eYa9NVS5hsmx4l9FyfGC-TshH_pEi5HuNac1R92x2/s1600/DSCN3661.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas pj's! So cute!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG9aL88QKsi85N2rcxRxh0qzByUEl3EuAr_UtncYpjJL_GCPK8cR48s1k3w04aNNCEcR4OPwNkbIuqKriZqVZATHdmMglFGL2odAT5SUVhuU7RHZZkP_9lqrkPI_7BfLVGor1P8XhFmCeQ/s1600/DSCN3665.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG9aL88QKsi85N2rcxRxh0qzByUEl3EuAr_UtncYpjJL_GCPK8cR48s1k3w04aNNCEcR4OPwNkbIuqKriZqVZATHdmMglFGL2odAT5SUVhuU7RHZZkP_9lqrkPI_7BfLVGor1P8XhFmCeQ/s1600/DSCN3665.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An outfit mom picked out for Des while in-patient at the Cancer Treatment Center in Zion.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgefj_G3jtN-00E57KMhb9s286QX-Z9C8h5yI1hNQdmq260bJOWhZEUdVwNuo_cBj3t-REClfLyF5kQ7O2SxvRAaWJm2h61oi2ynGH0Mej-pUAz04goxkkimWsmtBl1XdaUwxT03_mGSN-w/s1600/DSCN3666.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgefj_G3jtN-00E57KMhb9s286QX-Z9C8h5yI1hNQdmq260bJOWhZEUdVwNuo_cBj3t-REClfLyF5kQ7O2SxvRAaWJm2h61oi2ynGH0Mej-pUAz04goxkkimWsmtBl1XdaUwxT03_mGSN-w/s1600/DSCN3666.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phat Farm socks - loves!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPJcoboepkX3n6piECdw8HGkS94sYgukI-ZBnpBmStw8_zgpzL0Z7xkG2m1zAQLiRBQgJ0L5gMJTOY848yqqKW31OqDBMOI0ekK6gEui0ebDHqc6B8e55rBO6A1yrEq4zMwZxYlmDcg63k/s1600/DSCN3669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPJcoboepkX3n6piECdw8HGkS94sYgukI-ZBnpBmStw8_zgpzL0Z7xkG2m1zAQLiRBQgJ0L5gMJTOY848yqqKW31OqDBMOI0ekK6gEui0ebDHqc6B8e55rBO6A1yrEq4zMwZxYlmDcg63k/s1600/DSCN3669.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another outift my mom helped pick out.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1hrdkirjW0b79TCAiK9yI-vYguQPj-tcwM66DRj7A9KZv_QO-eSorQVGnaMKlTI8vg0jDqOIl7W3u8yPBcJFi_l6BC6C03bqGJ4zlrAhthG7xyur-7pGiD-VzxjeP5s7vwtRSBq0XjeDC/s1600/DSCN3679.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1hrdkirjW0b79TCAiK9yI-vYguQPj-tcwM66DRj7A9KZv_QO-eSorQVGnaMKlTI8vg0jDqOIl7W3u8yPBcJFi_l6BC6C03bqGJ4zlrAhthG7xyur-7pGiD-VzxjeP5s7vwtRSBq0XjeDC/s1600/DSCN3679.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A super nice lady on Etsy made two different sizes of tol (first birthday) shirts for Des even though I only ordered one, just because she felt bad about our situation. So thankful for little mercies like that during this process. <3 td=""><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--></3></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwSdg27EbwRN7GSfjK49o8mXVygfGTIX96yNW599o0ZfbHWHwuzJeU94_EBe2f9AxZ6elXw3-EH6RvZocPmgEudO35S_wKD-aaqkL8ny71UsU1WwXoKtK9SWeq03JCOLXDsZZGPluM3TWx/s1600/DSCN3758.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwSdg27EbwRN7GSfjK49o8mXVygfGTIX96yNW599o0ZfbHWHwuzJeU94_EBe2f9AxZ6elXw3-EH6RvZocPmgEudO35S_wKD-aaqkL8ny71UsU1WwXoKtK9SWeq03JCOLXDsZZGPluM3TWx/s1600/DSCN3758.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More December 2012 care package goodies. (We kinda maybe sorta went over-board, ha!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUDsdWD2xHCNBqsaHa9cwYj1pyEnKVLFAA0HoJ6UkehfudOY84wMalcnbzy7LqTI3D8kY5XHpjhKJf5uu0mp74KU7V880hga6rqAkpUaXvM9mmcnF6eugEmauBVSvbuDocgZlLl2iwq6Ld/s1600/DSCN3759.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUDsdWD2xHCNBqsaHa9cwYj1pyEnKVLFAA0HoJ6UkehfudOY84wMalcnbzy7LqTI3D8kY5XHpjhKJf5uu0mp74KU7V880hga6rqAkpUaXvM9mmcnF6eugEmauBVSvbuDocgZlLl2iwq6Ld/s1600/DSCN3759.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cute leather slip-on shoes! December 2012.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifNhxznim-JSnF0FKBL41zcy6qqjSp6o6X6CTY5lAZPFJD6CAHlt1UkmjCdkWROKKsLdtUxzkgg-JX2t6xCNOKaBOEf2prRRYySR5Ut3WT3pFxYRRyC9ltn4Oi22intZHj3Nf-eKYqBK-F/s1600/DSCN3761.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifNhxznim-JSnF0FKBL41zcy6qqjSp6o6X6CTY5lAZPFJD6CAHlt1UkmjCdkWROKKsLdtUxzkgg-JX2t6xCNOKaBOEf2prRRYySR5Ut3WT3pFxYRRyC9ltn4Oi22intZHj3Nf-eKYqBK-F/s1600/DSCN3761.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Handmade caramels and chocolates for the foster family. We got them several gifts that year, but I can't find pictures of them for some reason. December, 2012.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Ja9QVhLGZqwyV_UD0ugNnJBtZxZ26KrcG-7j7UKEugiFtH9quaNWx_0yIxaOfK2TGIVR5vUdSmfiyTqU_DPhZht5Mr41YJUa5UQMhEgQnt03rSTVNZyMkzilJPLqzHKP8aG3u6TZQA6k/s1600/DSCN3787.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Ja9QVhLGZqwyV_UD0ugNnJBtZxZ26KrcG-7j7UKEugiFtH9quaNWx_0yIxaOfK2TGIVR5vUdSmfiyTqU_DPhZht5Mr41YJUa5UQMhEgQnt03rSTVNZyMkzilJPLqzHKP8aG3u6TZQA6k/s1600/DSCN3787.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More December 2012...yeah, we totally DID go over-board; but hey, we had only been parents for two months, we were pretty darn excited! ;-)<br />
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<b>NOTE: I cannot find January, 2013's care package photos anywhere. :-( So, moving right along..........</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTRFl1vENIlPIfXqscF91n6d3q4WpDeDugQCm2jp9q0SLltNNLu4hpb8HgyWPQeAQ0u78tkLUaXsUyrE-3xPZ1IwlVy5E32N285l-JBoaUp-ZXgXk4-CffWDEkn09gZNfJNzGMFuV6KR3v/s1600/february2013packagefixed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTRFl1vENIlPIfXqscF91n6d3q4WpDeDugQCm2jp9q0SLltNNLu4hpb8HgyWPQeAQ0u78tkLUaXsUyrE-3xPZ1IwlVy5E32N285l-JBoaUp-ZXgXk4-CffWDEkn09gZNfJNzGMFuV6KR3v/s1600/february2013packagefixed.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can't find the pictures to just the February, 2013 care package; so, here's a pic of it with Des and his foster parents. All faces covered for their protection.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjIMSkV_xv_SxVWg-K0U8Zn4eiGzaBbSdMiX0mj_mohOAsdHrPv93859jl6PZMuwZR4n1zHeNfeEMl7-2uJDfKZQyzUXuzL2lM8jZcZicNjAbvDYcWApy6Gtq7Wn5jlATbaF8dZI_LdqMJ/s1600/DSC00428+(03-01-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjIMSkV_xv_SxVWg-K0U8Zn4eiGzaBbSdMiX0mj_mohOAsdHrPv93859jl6PZMuwZR4n1zHeNfeEMl7-2uJDfKZQyzUXuzL2lM8jZcZicNjAbvDYcWApy6Gtq7Wn5jlATbaF8dZI_LdqMJ/s1600/DSC00428+(03-01-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LOTS of goodies for March 2013. We sent this package just days before mom passed away.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7sSwBji_iq3PWdfWx4ZeAnap9Qd9dXFcucIobphvVC4JEJENsKfw3fw2z3_wU2PT03z_9rprUqLQJt82xp2134bcBRwBC0PUH4RGVRklxVOzE0yj4kOvRLvEkSpKulFaKabV0khknvV1J/s1600/DSC00479+(03-03-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7sSwBji_iq3PWdfWx4ZeAnap9Qd9dXFcucIobphvVC4JEJENsKfw3fw2z3_wU2PT03z_9rprUqLQJt82xp2134bcBRwBC0PUH4RGVRklxVOzE0yj4kOvRLvEkSpKulFaKabV0khknvV1J/s1600/DSC00479+(03-03-2013).JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr. C and I in some of the Irish goodies we sent Des for St. Paddy's in 2013. In this picture, we are in the plastic gowns we had to wear in mom's hospial room at the <a href="http://www.cancercenter.com/">Cancer Center</a>. She died just four days later.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Fh1wi-14S-SErx3y2qngTiPQluEFIoSMs3GDfzn0Op5Eso1wpXikev2CvPLupKUxWAwEUDqMGcSRpsJpWx_11hkcx_qeqMfu-Aj-V9Uip8aBT55HlRTCPMBh90DZavnvi9oCZprIaul5/s1600/DSC00496+(03-03-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Fh1wi-14S-SErx3y2qngTiPQluEFIoSMs3GDfzn0Op5Eso1wpXikev2CvPLupKUxWAwEUDqMGcSRpsJpWx_11hkcx_qeqMfu-Aj-V9Uip8aBT55HlRTCPMBh90DZavnvi9oCZprIaul5/s1600/DSC00496+(03-03-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We included our picture in his St. Paddy's Day card. I sent a card or letter (sometimes both in EVERY package we send). Also, "adeul" means "son".</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXiMPMH56jdmdq9E_bYXgTGoMkF5oAaLp5EH4zpdKp-1MaM2AlwRrukGGi5sQGIrwOLOIhLRJ3JW3DBJ5wbL9cPt5O155tA-lVtdfiG08wmfZ1l8fCNeYUzaDLflUIIhD2E-u2MI0swhj/s1600/DSC00800+(03-25-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXiMPMH56jdmdq9E_bYXgTGoMkF5oAaLp5EH4zpdKp-1MaM2AlwRrukGGi5sQGIrwOLOIhLRJ3JW3DBJ5wbL9cPt5O155tA-lVtdfiG08wmfZ1l8fCNeYUzaDLflUIIhD2E-u2MI0swhj/s1600/DSC00800+(03-25-2013).JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Easter outfit - March/April 2013.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5C8c3HgU1BXEucbTprTOXEXlOUxcAt3Owa1pip3DnlChqdyjlY2M1BZ0Qpx0sK0v0TetD-GAtr_y30UwHEDghsm6BWHORfgDxne6M6wXLGrQv_nkwv6jEC9tbG9EMIgBMG7iXGhCzoXVN/s1600/DSC00801+(03-25-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5C8c3HgU1BXEucbTprTOXEXlOUxcAt3Owa1pip3DnlChqdyjlY2M1BZ0Qpx0sK0v0TetD-GAtr_y30UwHEDghsm6BWHORfgDxne6M6wXLGrQv_nkwv6jEC9tbG9EMIgBMG7iXGhCzoXVN/s1600/DSC00801+(03-25-2013).JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Easter goodies care package - March/April, 2013.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixd8TxBPgI7ajv2twmOzDH-g9m9_ewvB59ZqOIk09Q5qFD3mCV43WZUyRPS1Ps8NzBhSK0d0IFVe_JDcyHUfRxrOfQ2VYzFGXznJwTieSAlt6JtTTay72DzStvdXABNVHBDo8G79RIGTqQ/s1600/DSC00805+(03-25-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixd8TxBPgI7ajv2twmOzDH-g9m9_ewvB59ZqOIk09Q5qFD3mCV43WZUyRPS1Ps8NzBhSK0d0IFVe_JDcyHUfRxrOfQ2VYzFGXznJwTieSAlt6JtTTay72DzStvdXABNVHBDo8G79RIGTqQ/s1600/DSC00805+(03-25-2013).JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eagan wearing the bunny ears we sent Des. He looks so cute; although also a little sad. ;-)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQ_ty7sFZ84YgwKszlCcqJxT9iOl_KMZYLTW3GseEQ3Bf6qjS-llXG6MH4r1nwxOOgqbKpNTCbiJzDC8v36NqxaBHnP3L24gAyRLS3hJQGBxUQC8qLmEkkZFiD9P1NkORg6sHoc-7bDDo/s1600/DSC02464+(05-14-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQ_ty7sFZ84YgwKszlCcqJxT9iOl_KMZYLTW3GseEQ3Bf6qjS-llXG6MH4r1nwxOOgqbKpNTCbiJzDC8v36NqxaBHnP3L24gAyRLS3hJQGBxUQC8qLmEkkZFiD9P1NkORg6sHoc-7bDDo/s1600/DSC02464+(05-14-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Late April/early May care package.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwyT3eI49IkRdcDtrqtkPGcOtszsHOzQnOFRvucxGBvUq0BHxT1tUbEzdnGZAp6ABULLAWiyqtzKBTDdyvhS90FLzGgMybHfRAR52RhTKgNdor5PSLQWrvT7r9lgBdvcn3FGhrRrlymq_/s1600/DSC02466+(05-14-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwyT3eI49IkRdcDtrqtkPGcOtszsHOzQnOFRvucxGBvUq0BHxT1tUbEzdnGZAp6ABULLAWiyqtzKBTDdyvhS90FLzGgMybHfRAR52RhTKgNdor5PSLQWrvT7r9lgBdvcn3FGhrRrlymq_/s1600/DSC02466+(05-14-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Handmade gold and pearl earrings for Des' foster mom for Mother's Day, 2013.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaa_At6PtZM112bcxYEKABcCEyAMfvhs1LnOY7_Y3sGftN8jx2iY9mpYRPw5bbAplPnVLwEMu2rhwZUN_m4XuINbjH71rTjfYCdOD9v9kOBQEPXi1xaaVFxjM1zlzHR-LvMJATYXmkKDhc/s1600/DSC02468+(05-14-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaa_At6PtZM112bcxYEKABcCEyAMfvhs1LnOY7_Y3sGftN8jx2iY9mpYRPw5bbAplPnVLwEMu2rhwZUN_m4XuINbjH71rTjfYCdOD9v9kOBQEPXi1xaaVFxjM1zlzHR-LvMJATYXmkKDhc/s1600/DSC02468+(05-14-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goodies from Desmond's first baby shower held on April 29th, 2013. It was a "meant to bee" themed shower - so bittersweet as mom had only been gone a month and a half.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJuzArhyPnm38oY5Tf4BNMh3HlnT4ylTsvRIJl6JxDrjCeVQMn8LZ70GlCD2EsB-NhnIrmFDLAPfhcdFyfCcICmzc93EgJ7rNNMjsbw58vJUuc0h22_NDtA9_Wer5w2liUkmlcOiuM7w_c/s1600/DSC02470+(05-14-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJuzArhyPnm38oY5Tf4BNMh3HlnT4ylTsvRIJl6JxDrjCeVQMn8LZ70GlCD2EsB-NhnIrmFDLAPfhcdFyfCcICmzc93EgJ7rNNMjsbw58vJUuc0h22_NDtA9_Wer5w2liUkmlcOiuM7w_c/s1600/DSC02470+(05-14-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More goodies from late April/early May care package.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3-xM2xuq6Dfy7s9-uULD3Kz-pHSlsfDpfR8IFJzWcrElqImot3-bSJRC-3EZqdiRelEVVAqZisZchkJlCczkqIN7MjSK5BVFiy5SWcgdmoxCS_yxo2Eg_WTlyNAx2oegWmyQ2fkIkFmXc/s1600/DSC02707+(05-25-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3-xM2xuq6Dfy7s9-uULD3Kz-pHSlsfDpfR8IFJzWcrElqImot3-bSJRC-3EZqdiRelEVVAqZisZchkJlCczkqIN7MjSK5BVFiy5SWcgdmoxCS_yxo2Eg_WTlyNAx2oegWmyQ2fkIkFmXc/s1600/DSC02707+(05-25-2013).JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr. C with the jacket and tie we got Des' foster dad for Father's Day, 2013.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcRXzqy8UjyIQ4UGYrXJ2qFqDphEH-MLiXlymPGNTsG2CWqboCHUkvKPfTMOaZPpAPWbAXTyC91FawkCgUKMP9FwwAgKaS-6TMsOmmjKiCPfiQThO2eD91IIXzNR_39Q1o-iRXQiC1d5vW/s1600/DSC02731+(06-07-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcRXzqy8UjyIQ4UGYrXJ2qFqDphEH-MLiXlymPGNTsG2CWqboCHUkvKPfTMOaZPpAPWbAXTyC91FawkCgUKMP9FwwAgKaS-6TMsOmmjKiCPfiQThO2eD91IIXzNR_39Q1o-iRXQiC1d5vW/s1600/DSC02731+(06-07-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">June, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4XODOik7XvdtsvVP0pJh8-Gdbx_3C4nca6eJaZazhmMhO8kCZ2NaWW2MUyQt7uQaUUNhMu2O5R-ryUb98sa0lTxCNSqaTKUxUZIjdUvhI6DzH44LIayGtD8AXb3Qjk7gkspL2k85-oZkz/s1600/DSC02739+(06-07-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4XODOik7XvdtsvVP0pJh8-Gdbx_3C4nca6eJaZazhmMhO8kCZ2NaWW2MUyQt7uQaUUNhMu2O5R-ryUb98sa0lTxCNSqaTKUxUZIjdUvhI6DzH44LIayGtD8AXb3Qjk7gkspL2k85-oZkz/s1600/DSC02739+(06-07-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was SO SAD about sending this romper! I loved it so much and really wanted to see Des in it in person; but alas, it was not to be...June, 2013.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRpkuFbyVJkrzoDepeGm6ZBxdSdIFgYRUAEhbQFlTspKymL44TgssUlM0AmqNQ-ycnHpq4khaaf5ROkEPWstCXTQrkRKBvhd2VLKBk83c_XEmLlcFk8vDB_gDJArJ_KqehvDlYBr3IQl3R/s1600/DSC03299+(07-25-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRpkuFbyVJkrzoDepeGm6ZBxdSdIFgYRUAEhbQFlTspKymL44TgssUlM0AmqNQ-ycnHpq4khaaf5ROkEPWstCXTQrkRKBvhd2VLKBk83c_XEmLlcFk8vDB_gDJArJ_KqehvDlYBr3IQl3R/s1600/DSC03299+(07-25-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">July, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwL-00MOxdEV4J6eW6gqWo11OwMmfP52b7NFLEctH9GgmfEkHexVSf6jAzE2IIkAg7r_HGFXujeOxKuRBZ9A1Ev9WbsIbzNJRyTQUrNCTZM4zWMK0Khm5hHFa6XwsCaH7YXji2xONaOg4v/s1600/DSC03303+(07-25-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwL-00MOxdEV4J6eW6gqWo11OwMmfP52b7NFLEctH9GgmfEkHexVSf6jAzE2IIkAg7r_HGFXujeOxKuRBZ9A1Ev9WbsIbzNJRyTQUrNCTZM4zWMK0Khm5hHFa6XwsCaH7YXji2xONaOg4v/s1600/DSC03303+(07-25-2013).JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">July, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizNBPyyyVEHXsvFXVpaoupHXXv6pOHTK0LN8M3IPbFWq8z8Ed66xGSbs9v8bicCyzmqwY-RlC6B8BYtt4sEKKJrA4XEhQ6gRCLp3MTR9agNLF458vxIP6lJS3uHU9sz_IAa1icW-MR2VQy/s1600/DSC03305+(07-25-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizNBPyyyVEHXsvFXVpaoupHXXv6pOHTK0LN8M3IPbFWq8z8Ed66xGSbs9v8bicCyzmqwY-RlC6B8BYtt4sEKKJrA4XEhQ6gRCLp3MTR9agNLF458vxIP6lJS3uHU9sz_IAa1icW-MR2VQy/s1600/DSC03305+(07-25-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">July, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdJgYihGjq6wsjJRFRW6bwrIllSDNJuIAtS9sNnE7kD8OkB9FAjDpfT6OaraEVi0Dvvj1ftxhe0jLxIw4-eacnI_6oQcZJbUgmZRJlGsNyNmNbxAktz732xDys-jb3su0mG2OCNmQ3Dfv7/s1600/DSC03314+(07-26-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdJgYihGjq6wsjJRFRW6bwrIllSDNJuIAtS9sNnE7kD8OkB9FAjDpfT6OaraEVi0Dvvj1ftxhe0jLxIw4-eacnI_6oQcZJbUgmZRJlGsNyNmNbxAktz732xDys-jb3su0mG2OCNmQ3Dfv7/s1600/DSC03314+(07-26-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I had a portrait of the foster mom, dad, and Des printed on fabric; then, I embroidered it and framed it. Sent in the July, 2013 care package. (We have since received pictures of it hanging on their wall with this very picture next to it - *tears*.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHy6hcJ2VCF2weZXoMxurz7JK2ti4-LPTuch_-ztr8HploySTY9ccXSeUcxCZWbQAT6igWYvLZ2vx5D-vlWiXfcjhSadD9rBR_3yOf4JoEEUT3TlaNmA_inp1DnbFUAHdgkGUUz31Ru0Eg/s1600/DSC04440+(08-16-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHy6hcJ2VCF2weZXoMxurz7JK2ti4-LPTuch_-ztr8HploySTY9ccXSeUcxCZWbQAT6igWYvLZ2vx5D-vlWiXfcjhSadD9rBR_3yOf4JoEEUT3TlaNmA_inp1DnbFUAHdgkGUUz31Ru0Eg/s1600/DSC04440+(08-16-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">August, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXwb8A7SfxICJIvVd75IYTgRwWJdZ5TYRIvbJzHVJYWu5a19t0Q1BGP9lZCd6uqu1MZAB83hEfZDqKkx4szTlAQUKhCgpC01xcO1LxLbscxWQCp_zA4W2uHICZH54cbqFvuO_f2I7O0dn/s1600/DSC04443+(08-16-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXwb8A7SfxICJIvVd75IYTgRwWJdZ5TYRIvbJzHVJYWu5a19t0Q1BGP9lZCd6uqu1MZAB83hEfZDqKkx4szTlAQUKhCgpC01xcO1LxLbscxWQCp_zA4W2uHICZH54cbqFvuO_f2I7O0dn/s1600/DSC04443+(08-16-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I remember Mr. C and I thinking maybe the foster mom would hate us for this present? LOL, I hope not! August, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibcSbSk3dckAFaH0sCNZcNqi361w6LDLRqjBRhwC1ND6s-Oq_ha2pHlGB7OVxfCOSQycYmdjK-BRJB7HUE6HlzIxQxDJEHpOooWD4mWmGPzf5jnVott-PycMjGhOGkPaMMm5agoH4M5Ki7/s1600/DSC05722+(09-23-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibcSbSk3dckAFaH0sCNZcNqi361w6LDLRqjBRhwC1ND6s-Oq_ha2pHlGB7OVxfCOSQycYmdjK-BRJB7HUE6HlzIxQxDJEHpOooWD4mWmGPzf5jnVott-PycMjGhOGkPaMMm5agoH4M5Ki7/s1600/DSC05722+(09-23-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">September/October, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJiX6Rkg78DdLZS_5VDUsxGs8E8u6ZZB-mHVmRXdO9sBGfztUh4sKPP-yHRHB0A15dg7HHrTdPI47XS0jDXpObhQU6fl6X13JdmlZl2oLMVxxwBiEugrJngl660yMrmTCzXksOwgIH1sqo/s1600/DSC06539+(10-15-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJiX6Rkg78DdLZS_5VDUsxGs8E8u6ZZB-mHVmRXdO9sBGfztUh4sKPP-yHRHB0A15dg7HHrTdPI47XS0jDXpObhQU6fl6X13JdmlZl2oLMVxxwBiEugrJngl660yMrmTCzXksOwgIH1sqo/s1600/DSC06539+(10-15-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was pretty sad about this coat/hat and gloves set too. *sniff sniff* October/November, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjabGBc-KXsYR6sE3UFSc4jESoIvRT1ajwdMO1UpyGRjW4mUapIisfiSqD2OZEjceIJbx_HDUXQsPkE5xsjvEwbvPKn8yPZoiE3e76hrHupGe0963q0IZHsyl6pv-QhwBDhjWZAR3Th1Txl/s1600/DSC06542+(10-15-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjabGBc-KXsYR6sE3UFSc4jESoIvRT1ajwdMO1UpyGRjW4mUapIisfiSqD2OZEjceIJbx_HDUXQsPkE5xsjvEwbvPKn8yPZoiE3e76hrHupGe0963q0IZHsyl6pv-QhwBDhjWZAR3Th1Txl/s1600/DSC06542+(10-15-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">October/November, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5CpYaRweMn8ydtNFac-81AZ21vhMpBpkbwfAJWLJ-aekg15u63mTtZ2IsRLE_TMMbmwEqq2CJlgwB9ohKvjCbZiDdzqdZSfnt0rGuAL3hUo602OYLCee6ZVbWccN-7OWIh_8s_NafApRH/s1600/DSC06544+(10-15-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5CpYaRweMn8ydtNFac-81AZ21vhMpBpkbwfAJWLJ-aekg15u63mTtZ2IsRLE_TMMbmwEqq2CJlgwB9ohKvjCbZiDdzqdZSfnt0rGuAL3hUo602OYLCee6ZVbWccN-7OWIh_8s_NafApRH/s1600/DSC06544+(10-15-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">October/November, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-rZkSxhv2d4wj7LLipwtcIJ3Jq6X3M-RKinFC6XWm1GZ2O_MBKyZCNPdaGShBJnnet9DD8kvuZqX9OS2cN6S2SEZ_k84OWOyJhX7egqW3cdDiAf_qAPy1MnwBSGOsBefmbCULiwwP_HZ_/s1600/DSC06545+(10-15-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-rZkSxhv2d4wj7LLipwtcIJ3Jq6X3M-RKinFC6XWm1GZ2O_MBKyZCNPdaGShBJnnet9DD8kvuZqX9OS2cN6S2SEZ_k84OWOyJhX7egqW3cdDiAf_qAPy1MnwBSGOsBefmbCULiwwP_HZ_/s1600/DSC06545+(10-15-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">October/November, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVb_PzhWHZ9_p64l_C3BAwe3topJbEH8zp6fPawMFKGndMIuA6exPo6MxEFgRw0yYW3Opnejtdd4RXO0VsoqfPNuDaU7dNQvRwUsOUm_v-O9cy_d9LjaIwrlOisOq34aknZg3ty760hnSA/s1600/DSC06546+(10-15-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVb_PzhWHZ9_p64l_C3BAwe3topJbEH8zp6fPawMFKGndMIuA6exPo6MxEFgRw0yYW3Opnejtdd4RXO0VsoqfPNuDaU7dNQvRwUsOUm_v-O9cy_d9LjaIwrlOisOq34aknZg3ty760hnSA/s1600/DSC06546+(10-15-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">October/November, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIrZDbbqJA2_PsUBiS8glXI_k5yYV9fBKWvGtARyBu_SeSqxxlA56Mf-bvFRuZC4G_cwu8HOozjafUD0G3299V7yq_TTsorsPMssnEFp8skluIanMikzDiYJMNkZexbIJXzvuqQcDs2gkP/s1600/DSC06957+(11-29-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIrZDbbqJA2_PsUBiS8glXI_k5yYV9fBKWvGtARyBu_SeSqxxlA56Mf-bvFRuZC4G_cwu8HOozjafUD0G3299V7yq_TTsorsPMssnEFp8skluIanMikzDiYJMNkZexbIJXzvuqQcDs2gkP/s1600/DSC06957+(11-29-2013).JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hat and scarf combo for foster dad. December, 2013.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8EZaSJtI_3GG7b2KGQfkkObopA4wauQelks1DswddJ9sKvEdqz8QIu6KEC33VTIDV-kLLjEIV2Blb-zw9FGoP7lTq8ue84nBhy3t4azN4Bpn7O_B-80yrOMvw3Yv4UqvewD3m_Se0M3H/s1600/DSC06960+(11-29-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8EZaSJtI_3GG7b2KGQfkkObopA4wauQelks1DswddJ9sKvEdqz8QIu6KEC33VTIDV-kLLjEIV2Blb-zw9FGoP7lTq8ue84nBhy3t4azN4Bpn7O_B-80yrOMvw3Yv4UqvewD3m_Se0M3H/s1600/DSC06960+(11-29-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hat, scarf, mitten combo for foster mom (can't see it all in there, but it's there!). December, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjql0pmwwQM3zZWs5MX_hY5R3cDePsn5SlxwWWtkHthyFsxUFH1DmYSpCCf6qQ_azy4sFR-aRmlYYaRCO-R8c5axSaGhxPaOKhjhM5P4c-56OFJQ8BpBi3o_arPGaGf43QegqVKjk6tGVeZ/s1600/DSC06962+(12-04-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjql0pmwwQM3zZWs5MX_hY5R3cDePsn5SlxwWWtkHthyFsxUFH1DmYSpCCf6qQ_azy4sFR-aRmlYYaRCO-R8c5axSaGhxPaOKhjhM5P4c-56OFJQ8BpBi3o_arPGaGf43QegqVKjk6tGVeZ/s1600/DSC06962+(12-04-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gifts for foster family. December, 2013.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYvOZuGwEr4P9vwWIDXfSC3EtJj52kk4IqGzlZY-N-7e9S1iByWZl-rnvlB8qTHlA8ba7xJi6Na79rLXGu1GzoeZA-jB83XDFiYhqr00HY6N059ShSVu88k1edD5B1ksmsmyWydaNCqLDy/s1600/DSC06967+(12-04-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYvOZuGwEr4P9vwWIDXfSC3EtJj52kk4IqGzlZY-N-7e9S1iByWZl-rnvlB8qTHlA8ba7xJi6Na79rLXGu1GzoeZA-jB83XDFiYhqr00HY6N059ShSVu88k1edD5B1ksmsmyWydaNCqLDy/s1600/DSC06967+(12-04-2013).JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas and birthday presents for Desmond and foster parents. December, 2013.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuBUZR2qTUeI7nGygZ9Adbc2pUrG2ZvLub4fjb2pN-iR2gkOm64R5ICibXBe8CHnR_6LmVB1oumkWM_tfHkgg5AyXTwNWFTrxhqu1QdHmkPDJ1BVUaPXWFfQusOroxtDr31NYJQWCeBPv4/s1600/DSC06974+(12-04-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuBUZR2qTUeI7nGygZ9Adbc2pUrG2ZvLub4fjb2pN-iR2gkOm64R5ICibXBe8CHnR_6LmVB1oumkWM_tfHkgg5AyXTwNWFTrxhqu1QdHmkPDJ1BVUaPXWFfQusOroxtDr31NYJQWCeBPv4/s1600/DSC06974+(12-04-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diapers from the diaper cake from his "Meant to Bee" shower and wipes. December, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcn7wLehebWnzUmvw1n9oYaPO8_RWY2z6TSXuNkbhHrREU305MzNoeNcCk4WjrHjnSuxgKWIUBB6kGcAbHll7HWOHwccKGwoWfUaqEKSViIz6sEbAyHfhhCHBEBRXlBzVeubNBKDTJ8owc/s1600/DSC06977+(12-04-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcn7wLehebWnzUmvw1n9oYaPO8_RWY2z6TSXuNkbhHrREU305MzNoeNcCk4WjrHjnSuxgKWIUBB6kGcAbHll7HWOHwccKGwoWfUaqEKSViIz6sEbAyHfhhCHBEBRXlBzVeubNBKDTJ8owc/s1600/DSC06977+(12-04-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">December, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB98Q_N_PGiuQWVxiVanLegYisMjhxRW4OLPPQLZEjKlGNk7zZWIupkF_V2j-IUutMs9wEaKtXnp9Q3PrsrV5CiPgqa_VIi6YApJFf0ETvAYje0zIk9ruskai2EUH0XhfCmj_av60TLrMv/s1600/DSC06980+(12-04-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB98Q_N_PGiuQWVxiVanLegYisMjhxRW4OLPPQLZEjKlGNk7zZWIupkF_V2j-IUutMs9wEaKtXnp9Q3PrsrV5CiPgqa_VIi6YApJFf0ETvAYje0zIk9ruskai2EUH0XhfCmj_av60TLrMv/s1600/DSC06980+(12-04-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">December, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYep6pM1et2FTszgGnHN-jbar71SEGpmuHKgwb48E-3PwDbfLUNU4UWTV9TwQdziVEHoSgKzlLpiGduft25ZjLzTqEOM7xxLzvmygBb4-4vHOfgs8rlP2qKYwCEz-BYepCWZh0ePtv6t29/s1600/DSC06984+(12-04-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYep6pM1et2FTszgGnHN-jbar71SEGpmuHKgwb48E-3PwDbfLUNU4UWTV9TwQdziVEHoSgKzlLpiGduft25ZjLzTqEOM7xxLzvmygBb4-4vHOfgs8rlP2qKYwCEz-BYepCWZh0ePtv6t29/s1600/DSC06984+(12-04-2013).JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">December, 2013 care package.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMdxolVL1f2_Dmwu7w9RBczKvZNGjew5hs16uwprlhrol4XTK5gjDjOoCrBMR2a8JKf2hyphenhyphenWPFEUMzI51C4_TpIPWW-wAGRqyiqViCtu5ResFKwWg4iSVFLDp4GOgOoF9TM4SMqIRpa3CHx/s1600/DSC06988+(12-04-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMdxolVL1f2_Dmwu7w9RBczKvZNGjew5hs16uwprlhrol4XTK5gjDjOoCrBMR2a8JKf2hyphenhyphenWPFEUMzI51C4_TpIPWW-wAGRqyiqViCtu5ResFKwWg4iSVFLDp4GOgOoF9TM4SMqIRpa3CHx/s1600/DSC06988+(12-04-2013).JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">December, 2013.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIrfs3ZLb8gB8QtE68LLG3r1PJQbmZoV74kBYjejCZCsONIHTcBDdbSEi2pi75UlTm3WYSbkesZ6BfQExTJlFhAWmrIUnKQEGOCZIfyCZ4QqEbBLd_wkNijg0v_jwo3fsOep8T9u1f9Frs/s1600/DSC06989+(12-04-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIrfs3ZLb8gB8QtE68LLG3r1PJQbmZoV74kBYjejCZCsONIHTcBDdbSEi2pi75UlTm3WYSbkesZ6BfQExTJlFhAWmrIUnKQEGOCZIfyCZ4QqEbBLd_wkNijg0v_jwo3fsOep8T9u1f9Frs/s1600/DSC06989+(12-04-2013).JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">December, 2013.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmvHvmUWypIS_m_v3j_ZLyls4agzrPIqRcm6bvbXjZewYfmaszTnoQ-X5zWTg2w3QelmFAQwOhz2hJgjLGhHNB-0xRcD82a02w2zVuvK6AL0m-1TNDTHMuHHm2HEMfFy7cb1s-8l1w-_fv/s1600/DSC06990+(12-04-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmvHvmUWypIS_m_v3j_ZLyls4agzrPIqRcm6bvbXjZewYfmaszTnoQ-X5zWTg2w3QelmFAQwOhz2hJgjLGhHNB-0xRcD82a02w2zVuvK6AL0m-1TNDTHMuHHm2HEMfFy7cb1s-8l1w-_fv/s1600/DSC06990+(12-04-2013).JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">December, 2013.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwaFovkUWd8w3JK49TKHOOEhUiDkz7wAepljD1JdaIGNQQB3H1lau3_3mlRaH-o4K2E14-i86aNhcI3wwNT266tnq-i9HQS1BCSeYB89gTpUoctfSe7PK2Y2F7J_Rrkc9Ci-IC2PnDcnhW/s1600/DSC07033+(12-05-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwaFovkUWd8w3JK49TKHOOEhUiDkz7wAepljD1JdaIGNQQB3H1lau3_3mlRaH-o4K2E14-i86aNhcI3wwNT266tnq-i9HQS1BCSeYB89gTpUoctfSe7PK2Y2F7J_Rrkc9Ci-IC2PnDcnhW/s1600/DSC07033+(12-05-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Desmond's SECOND birthday t-shirt made by my sister, M. REALLY never thought we'd miss his second birthday too.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIKYfo8x-rzvKSCCxD_UlNaujTLlr_41MDUjypwxArn5QFtglryURs2EDbjQ9H-L8ZVPEUWZfNdVLJaxVTQ4AWJCb0-b-Mm7G5bvvm2RSB8zAz5UY2DaI6wCnDVlsHU1Y9DBvSZ4vOX1f5/s1600/DSC07052+(12-09-2013).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIKYfo8x-rzvKSCCxD_UlNaujTLlr_41MDUjypwxArn5QFtglryURs2EDbjQ9H-L8ZVPEUWZfNdVLJaxVTQ4AWJCb0-b-Mm7G5bvvm2RSB8zAz5UY2DaI6wCnDVlsHU1Y9DBvSZ4vOX1f5/s1600/DSC07052+(12-09-2013).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">December, 2013 care package ready for shipment!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9-rA1ocENFVTXeu5_ef6ghufL-FDI4Vqyg1Df5qO9t5Y9uKiWyAiuHSGlfDIZHBUbOZVZCA3x2CqZcEq9RA3ILrkwYIWW0MfxdUIJp8C4ODi1vQ4hAGsLz1fjSsVVkTW0TcZ_i0rzopL/s1600/DSC07867+(02-16-2014).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9-rA1ocENFVTXeu5_ef6ghufL-FDI4Vqyg1Df5qO9t5Y9uKiWyAiuHSGlfDIZHBUbOZVZCA3x2CqZcEq9RA3ILrkwYIWW0MfxdUIJp8C4ODi1vQ4hAGsLz1fjSsVVkTW0TcZ_i0rzopL/s1600/DSC07867+(02-16-2014).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">January/February, 2014. It's getting sadder and sadder and harder and harder to send things. We stop shopping for themed gifts. We send smaller packages.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBNxxTPyc9hp1X-QZVKhPDIUM9GtPJD-FuhC72nm8qNcG6KN0ptxrWYXo32NjvsXWTQvP3AotpzQHmR5GJW7NL5V28Gq3i0FWNudzABNWsLd5zuGhQ4KtL0LvaHyNSacnQEosiUYuDebo/s1600/DSC08069+(03-18-2014).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBNxxTPyc9hp1X-QZVKhPDIUM9GtPJD-FuhC72nm8qNcG6KN0ptxrWYXo32NjvsXWTQvP3AotpzQHmR5GJW7NL5V28Gq3i0FWNudzABNWsLd5zuGhQ4KtL0LvaHyNSacnQEosiUYuDebo/s1600/DSC08069+(03-18-2014).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">March/April, 2014. Some of these items were gifts, but he is out-growing everything (in the 90th+ percentile; so, it's either send it, or he may never wear it - bring on the tears).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizWnJj-UnaLLw03NYGoTDgJP1ifycoN4WYg8PnTZW8-F9bf8EJkK0PtB9IVMadqEg96MXdyYNEq7SZqtoOi8H6NigkJPe0t-Hd_UX-yTb1573AJ6ZQ96fgj6QPEd6Pp8w7u3-Bzz9BHCua/s1600/DSC08076+(03-19-2014).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizWnJj-UnaLLw03NYGoTDgJP1ifycoN4WYg8PnTZW8-F9bf8EJkK0PtB9IVMadqEg96MXdyYNEq7SZqtoOi8H6NigkJPe0t-Hd_UX-yTb1573AJ6ZQ96fgj6QPEd6Pp8w7u3-Bzz9BHCua/s1600/DSC08076+(03-19-2014).JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">March/April, 2014.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So, I think that's it. Whew! It was crazy looking back through all of those pictures again! We are hoping and praying for good news this week; although, we're trying not to get our hopes up as we've had them dashed so many times before.<br />
<br />
If you think of us, we're asking for prayer. Prayer for favor and movement in order to bring our son home. Thank you in advance for remembering us in that way; we GREATLY appreciate it more than you know.<br />
<br />
From my heart to yours...<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-27427740071646101082013-08-23T16:14:00.001-05:002013-08-27T17:12:52.669-05:00Adoption FUNdraising! (help us bring Desi HOME!)Many people who read my blog and also know me IRL have asked why I have been silent and scarce in my postings about Desmond. Well, unfortunately, there is good reason for that.<br />
<br />
I cannot and will not go into details about anything, but suffice it to say that it is best if I share practically nothing at all about the process UNTIL we travel to pick Des up to bring him home. SO, until we travel, I will be keeping things to a minimum, as I have been doing these past several months.<br />
<br />
There have been SO MANY milestones I wanted to shout to the rooftops and share with you all - he's getting so big and doing so well! But, it's just not safe; and I do NOT want to jeopardize our adoption or anyone else's in any way, shape, or form. It's even become unsafe to share such news on our private F*cebook pages; which makes me incredibly sad.<br />
<br />
<b>*EDIT: Turns out even when we travel we will not be allowed to share anything with anyone from our journey. This greatly saddens me, but we will adhere to whatever rules are necessary to bring our son home.* </b><strike>When we travel, I will be posting details and photos of our entire journey (we are planning to live there for up to a month during the finalization process); so, don't worry, there will be LOTS of cuteness to enjoy very soon!</strike> ;) Truly, I have great respect for Desmond's birth country and culture; and I always will, no matter how painful and drawn-out this process has been.<br />
<br />
All of that being said, we are in the final throes of this process. As we will be traveling within the next few months (we assume), we are kicking our fundraising into high gear; but we hate the idea of hand-outs, and if we could do this adoption without needing any financial assistance, we most certainly would. However, at this time, we do need a little extra help here and there; SO, <b>we are doing some fundraising that makes sure that everyone who contributes gets something in return.</b><br />
<br />
At the moment, we are<b> launching our t-shirt fundraiser</b>:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk5KImfgYymowluUXuC8in_imeiWf3dgxqSVwW16iuzyNYWifCFsCSIugK7CawQDd5Fx4F_kNHVrEfF_KQ9jXEW6BTbE03utjDI3nM8Syar07nHZEdpxDT-MGtm-IfYwtvnCuxxLaeLhBH/s1600/lovewins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk5KImfgYymowluUXuC8in_imeiWf3dgxqSVwW16iuzyNYWifCFsCSIugK7CawQDd5Fx4F_kNHVrEfF_KQ9jXEW6BTbE03utjDI3nM8Syar07nHZEdpxDT-MGtm-IfYwtvnCuxxLaeLhBH/s320/lovewins.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Images copyright of <a href="http://www.tolovearose.com/">To Love a Rose</a>, 2013.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlwQQbf03YMEPgYyPRO1dXxCu5K-XQgzfu4xPkP6PG0E-4I6NPc3KUNDQiIoMDy8jxdf_CcFexGfgmR8lzgzV9xnxe0Egtuh2AZKaz_WxQNZ_g87vtnyf8ppm6cp1zI0YP0qopxZi82SGY/s1600/lovewinsshirts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlwQQbf03YMEPgYyPRO1dXxCu5K-XQgzfu4xPkP6PG0E-4I6NPc3KUNDQiIoMDy8jxdf_CcFexGfgmR8lzgzV9xnxe0Egtuh2AZKaz_WxQNZ_g87vtnyf8ppm6cp1zI0YP0qopxZi82SGY/s320/lovewinsshirts.jpg" width="247" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tiny wording below "LOVE WINS" says, "Spread the love at lovesplosion.com".</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
As readers of my blog know, the phrase "love wins" means a lot to me and my family in the context of my <a href="http://blog.tolovearose.com/2013/08/love-wins.html">mother's passing</a>; but it holds special significance in regards to Desmond's adoption as well. I can clearly see God's hand in every aspect of Des' life and this adoption process. He has orchestrated things beyond what any government or political leader can control to bring this exact boy into our lives. Indeed, love truly has "won" in bringing our son into our lives. <3 br=""><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--></3><br />
<br />
My sister, M, and her husband own a screen-printing business; so, they have graciously offered to let us use their skills and equipment to help make these t-shirts a reality. M and I will be making these ourselves for all those who pre-order from our <a href="http://lovesplosion.com/index.html">adoption website</a>.<br />
<br />
Offered in sizes from infant to toddler to youth to women's and adults/men's, there is an option for every member of the family! They are made of 100% combed cotton; so, they're really soft, and we plan on using a curable reducer, so the ink is low and keeps the t-shirts comfy for always.<br />
<br />
Deadline to pre-order will be September 7th, 2013. <b>SO MAKE SURE YOU GET YOUR ORDERS IN</b> <a href="http://lovesplosion.com/fundraise.htm">here.</a> <br />
<br />
I am REALLY looking forward to making these t-shirts for everyone! S and I plan on buying some for ourselves and Des and wearing them together when we travel to pick him up - cheesy but awesome!<br />
<br />
Thanks in advance for any and all orders! You have no idea how much it humbles us when people want and do help out with Desmond's adoption, it means more than you will ever know.<br />
<br />
Loves!<br />
*mandie*<br />
<br />*Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-51676470094957838162013-08-16T00:35:00.000-05:002013-11-05T21:54:00.729-06:00LOVE WINS <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvsgppXVSEjW-M4DFVCr8iALuqmc3EO2-buNmLff0vIJB1LFODAcDLzYol02E-uwDR1ZUfrHqEkC0He2gAyeqI3YeqZ06F3hagMSfBVlHxXx0b6tEtgYO-UJbsdE97ZuKo8OuHRrEIeTgQ/s1600/DSC04394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvsgppXVSEjW-M4DFVCr8iALuqmc3EO2-buNmLff0vIJB1LFODAcDLzYol02E-uwDR1ZUfrHqEkC0He2gAyeqI3YeqZ06F3hagMSfBVlHxXx0b6tEtgYO-UJbsdE97ZuKo8OuHRrEIeTgQ/s320/DSC04394.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo copyright www.tolovearose.com 2013.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Today, I am broken...but it is beautiful.<br />
<br />
<i>Ten days ago we were supposed to be celebrating 35 years of my parents' marriage on a beach in Florida. It was mom's "redemption wedding" - the dream day she never got to experience all those years ago; because her vast, party-planning imagination had been hindered by finances and time and hostile in-laws-to-be. </i><br />
<br />
<i>This time it was going to be beautiful, romantic, and unforgettable - the men would wear sand-colored, linen suits, the girls would don ocean-blue chiffon gowns. Dad would wait for her under a shimmering altar of twinkle lights as she walked toward him (just like she did on that August day as an 18-year-old bride) in her glamorous, satin and chiffon gown sparkling with seed beads and tiny sequins.</i><br />
<br />
<b>It would have been a glorious day, I'm sure of it.</b><br />
<br />
As I stood in the shower at my parents' house (my dad's house? it sounds so strange and wrong to say it that way) today, I found myself melting into a puddle of tears again...<br />
<br />
This happens often while I'm bathing, simply because it's one of the only times I'm ever truly alone. It's not that I suffer in silence; in fact, I've always been very open and honest about any struggles or emotions that I'm wading through. Even so, I find myself crouched in a corner of the shower, whimpering like a lost, little child more often than I care to acknowledge. I tuck my knees up under my chin, turn the water temperature up to near-scalding, and drown my sobs in the cacophony of the deluge splashing against tile.<br />
<br />
I didn't know I was going to have a cry-fest today, but I wasn't surprised when the tears began to choke me. What <i>did </i>surprise me a bit was the emotional impetus behind them; because<i><b> for the first time in a long while, instead of crying over sadness, my heart was exploding with gratitude and an overwhelming sense of God's unfailing love.</b></i><br />
<br />
My arms raised over my head, and I began softly singing praise songs in the glassed-in shower I shared with my middle sister from high school until I left for college. My voice cracked and croaked through my tears; but I couldn't stop smiling, to the point that my face began to ache.<br />
<br />
Ever since mom passed in March, I have been broken - truly shattered - by Abba God's immense capacity for grace and mercy. I realize that this statement seems strange, and it's nearly impossible to explain sufficiently in human language; but<b> I am learning more and more that sometimes "no" is the answer to prayer that holds the most grace, and sometimes "death" is the gift of truest mercy.</b><br />
<br />
My 53-year-old mother fought for her life with the ferocity of a mama bear defending her cubs or a lioness on the Serengeti who is in desperate need of food for her young. Her doctors continually said that she was stronger and more determined than anyone they had ever encountered of any age and either gender. When she arrived at the hospital in November of 2011, they gave her four days to live. Instead, she survived treatment, went into parts-per-million remission, had a stem cell transplant, endured respiratory failure/TTP/renal failure/GVHD, and lived another year and a half. In short, she was one tough b*tch; and I say that with<i> tremendous</i> respect.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
...................</div>
<br />
The morning of March 7th of this year in Zion, IL, we pulled the curtains in mom's enormous hospital room in the stem cell unit of the Cancer Treatment Center of America to an absolutely gorgeous sight. After weeks of gloomy, dreary winter days, the sun was shining brightly and the clouds were beautiful, puffy cotton candy against an azure sky. It was a "Kerry" (my mom) kind of day, as if she had special ordered it just for this occasion.<br />
<br />
My family was beyond exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally at this point. We had been up with mom (at this point lying in a drug-induced coma and hooked to a breathing machine working at full capacity) for 15+ hours straight - there was not a moment that she was not being touched, prayed over, or sung to - it was beautiful and it was horrible all at once.<br />
<br />
One of mom's doctors took us down the hall to an empty room "to talk". I gazed around at my family - my dad, my sisters, my brother-in-law, my husband...everyone had bloodshot, wild eyes and everyone seemed to know what he was about to say.<br />
<br />
<i>"We've done all we can...God needs to perform a miracle, or she will pass and very soon."</i><br />
<br />
I wasn't shocked...I think God had been preparing my heart for this for a while; but to hear it said so honestly was heart-breaking. All I could think of were my last moments with her...<br />
<br />
She had not had the greatest day, her breathing was immensely labored and her tachycardia was out of control causing her to have incomplete heartbeats one after another. Although the cancer was completely gone and her stem cells were officially entirely integrated into her system, she was trapped within a body that had the immune response of a newborn baby. Consequently, when she was hit with a bout of sepsis then bi-lateral pneumonia, it was more than her fragile new immune system could endure. I cannot even imagine how odd she must have felt; how terrible it must feel to gasp for every breath...<br />
<br />
She looked at me and begged me not to go back to the hotel that night and said that she "felt so weird". Her nurse and I tried to discover why, but it was too late. Within seconds she was in complete and total respiratory failure - they needed to intubate. As the respiratory doctor and his team rushed in, I saw his face turn pale and his eyes despondent, "Is there anything you want to say to her?" He said to me in a hushed, serious tone.<br />
<br />
"What?" I was in shock; I couldn't think straight - she had been intubated before and made it through, but this was different, I could tell.<br />
<br />
His hand grabbed my arm firmly yet gently and directed me toward my mom's bedside, "You should go say something to her."<br />
<br />
"Oh my God, yes - of course!" I rushed to my mom's left side, very near her ear so she could hear me over the commotion around us. Her head was bobbing as though she was going to pass out and she had nurses and respiratory staff all around her already. I grabbed her left hand gently and spoke louder than I would have liked, "Mom, they're going to intubate you so you can breathe, okay? It's going to help you. I love you so much!"<br />
<br />
And that was it. We were shoved out of the room and watched from the hallway as they intubated mom. I could hear her say something to one of the nurses, but it was too loud for me to catch exactly what she said...<i>those were her last words here on earth.</i><br />
<br />
Forty-eight hours later, I stood over my mother, repeating the last few verses of Psalm 91 over her bruised and battered body. The gravity of the situation began to overwhelm me: 1.) I had said my last words to the woman who had birthed me two days before. 2.) She was going to pass. 3.) I would have to live the rest of my life without her physically here. 4.) My son and other future children would never know their grandmother in this life. 5.) My father was going to be a widower. 6.) Nothing would ever be the same again. <b>7.) This. Was. Happening. </b><br />
<br />
My sister, M, was singing a line from a spontaneous worship song over and over again, "Let your glory come and fill this place, let your glory come and overtake..." I kept thinking, "Is this glory?" And yet, even in that moment of soul-shaking, heart-pounding, gut-wrenching sorrow I somehow knew that it truly was.<br />
<br />
Everyone had said their good-byes, and the doctors had told us to unplug the machines. We surrounded her bed with all of us family members, several nurses, and one of her doctors; and we all just touched her and prayed and sang. We had the hospital chaplain (who had become a very dear friend) on speaker phone since she was out of town; and she was ending a prayer, "In Jesus' name PEACE, in Jesus' name PEACE, in Jesus' name PEACE...". She said it over and over and over again, and sometime in that 4 minute prayer, my mother drifted so tranquilly from this world that no one in the room even knew the event had occurred - we had to be told by a nurse from the station in the hallway.<br />
<br />
<b><i>There was no need to turn off any machines, my mother did the impossible and passed from this world without the need for something dramatic like that...her death was probably the most peaceful and most graceful act of her entire life. </i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
They had brought us a bereavement tray outside; which M had refused to use, because "they only bring it when someone is dying", and we had all been fiercely denying that this would be mom's reality. But after the phone calls and arrangements had been made, I walked to the cart to make myself a tea.<br />
<br />
"Are you really going to use that stupid tray?" she asked me.<br />
<br />
"Yes," I retorted defiantly mid-pour. "I'm using this f*cking tray!"<br />
<br />
Not my best moment, but I was <i>raw</i>. We all were.<br />
<br />
Like a crazed lunch-lady, I wheeled the tray into my mom's room, right next to her bed where her body still lay and grabbed my tea and a muffin. I pulled up one of the extra folding chairs they had brought in during the night, and I sat there eating my makeshift breakfast next to my mother's shell of a body, talking to her as if she were still there. My sisters joined me, and it was oddly nice. We told mom we knew she had waited for this beautiful day, and we joked about how she tricked us and left when we didn't notice. True, we were probably delirious with sleep deprivation; but I think we honestly enjoyed those last few moments with her body. <i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>For the first time in years, I wasn't worried about her. I wasn't watching her monitors checking her pulse, blood pressure, or oxygenation levels. I didn't have to calculate in my head what any of that meant. I didn't have to search her face for visible signs of pain or distress. None of that mattered anymore; she was at peace, and she always would be.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
..................................</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
To many, I'm sure my mother's death looked a lot like losing. To those who don't understand, I'm sure it looked much like unanswered prayers and lost dreams. To outsiders, I'm sure it looked like the definition of grief and fear and anger and disappointment and loss.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>But looks can be deceiving.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<i><span class="text Heb-11-1">"Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see</span><span class="text Heb-11-2" id="en-NIV-30175"></span><span class="text Heb-11-3" id="en-NIV-30176">...By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God’s command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible." (Hebrews 11:1 & 3, NIV)</span></i><br />
<i><span class="text Heb-11-3" id="en-NIV-30176"><br /></span></i>
<span class="text Heb-11-3" id="en-NIV-30176">I think sometimes people (and myself included) assume that this verse means that if we only have enough faith, God will answer our prayers just the way we want Him to, exactly when we expect Him to. Now, PLEASE, do NOT take this the wrong way! I know and trust and believe that our Abba in Heaven is mighty to save and heal and answer any prayers that you send His way; BUT, I am learning more and more that <b>my faith should not be contingent upon His ability to answer my prayers and give me what I want, His mightiness is not based on what He does for me, and His holiness and worthiness to be praised is not defined by how much He blesses me. </b></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Heb-11-3" id="en-NIV-30176"><b>Whether I live or whether I die, GOD IS STILL GOOD - ALWAYS. Whether He answers my prayers or not, HE IS STILL THE KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS. Whether He blesses me beyond measure is irrelevant in regards to His ability to do so.</b></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Heb-11-3" id="en-NIV-30176"><b><i>Regardless of my circumstances or trials or blessings or lack thereof, nothing can remove the power of the cross and Christ's ultimate act of love and sacrifice.</i></b></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="text Heb-11-3" id="en-NIV-30176">"</span><span class="text Heb-11-3" id="en-NIV-30176"><span class="text Heb-11-35" id="en-NIV-30208">There were others who were tortured, refusing to be released so that they might gain an even better resurrection.</span> <span class="text Heb-11-36" id="en-NIV-30209">Some faced jeers and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment.</span> <span class="text Heb-11-37" id="en-NIV-30210">They were put to death by stoning; they were sawed in two; they were killed by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated<sup> _ </sup></span><span class="text Heb-11-38" id="en-NIV-30211">the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, living in caves and in holes in the ground.<sup> </sup></span></span><span class="text Heb-11-39" id="en-NIV-30212">These were all commended for their faith, <b><i>yet none of them received what had been promised</i></b>,</span><span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>since God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect." (Hebrews 11:35-40, NIV)</span><br />
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213"><br /></span>
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213"><b>Sometimes the most gentlemanly, good-daddy, merciful act of grace God can perform is to say "no" to my prayers.</b> </span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213">Just because God didn't answer my prayer to restore my mother, doesn't meant He didn't perform an act of mercy for her. My unanswered prayer might have been her greatest desire. I can't imagine what it must have felt like to be stuck in her body - she was in so much pain and was facing kidney dialysis for the rest of her life (she despised dialysis and was in great pain when they did her daily treatment) and intensive physical therapy to learn how to walk again for the <i>second</i> time post-transplant - death was the greatest mercy He could have afforded her.</span><br />
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213"><br /></span>
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213">I know my mother was given a choice in the end. Some people will probably disagree with me; but as I watched her final moments, I truly believe my mother made the choice to exit her fleshly jail cell so she could enjoy the unspeakable freedom of eternal life. As soon as the nephrologist announced loudly in her room that it was "time for dialysis!" her numbers slipped quickly. I know subconsciously (or perhaps very CONSCIOUSLY) she was deciding that she did <i>not</i> want to endure that ever again, that we would all be okay in the end, and that<i> she was ready to go home</i>. </span><span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213">He let her go peacefully when everyone said it would be painful and terrible to watch let alone experience. </span><br />
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213"><br /></span>
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213">What amazing grace! What unfailing love!</span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213">The same Jehovah Jireh who provided a perfect, 10 out of 10 rating stem cell donor from half-way around the world in France when the doctors were afraid they might never find her a suitable match due to her tricky biological heritage...the same Jehovah Rapha who had HEALED her of stage four Philadelphia positive, adult, acute lymphoblastic leukemia even in the parts-per-million of her cells (this only happens to 1% of patients in her position)...the same Abba God who had answered her prayers and shown her so many miracles was allowing her to come home to His loving arms. </span><br />
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213"><br /></span>
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213">She had run her race with dignity and strength and tremendous endurance; and she had earned her resurrection with grace. <b>She is where we are all striving to be.</b> She is in the eternal city of hope and peace.</span><br />
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213"><br /></span>
<br />
I stood in the shower today consumed by the blazing inferno of my Abba's great love for me. He has been faithful to keep His promise time and again these past five months, "I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you." (John 14:18, KJV). In so many ways, He has been gently soothing all the aches and broken places in my heart...whispering His great love for me in the quiet moments, because He knows that's when I hear Him best. He has been so good to me, and I am so grateful.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
On the outside, it looks like cancer won, that hurt won, that loss won, that death won in my mom's life and circumstances.<br />
<br />
But I'm on the inside, and I'm here to tell you that in reality <b>LOVE WON</b>.<br />
<br />
LOVE ALWAYS WINS. LOVE WILL ALWAYS WIN - FOREVER AND EVER - LOVE WINS. <br />
<br />
I am certain of this just as I am certain that she is<i> more alive</i> right now than you or I.<br />
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213"><br /></span>
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213">Our great Abba's love is UNFAILING (really let the weight of that word impress itself upon you for a moment - amazing right?!). </span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213">Love is louder, love is stronger, love is more powerful than anything we will encounter - <i>even death</i>.</span><br />
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213"><br /></span>
<span class="text Rom-8-38" id="en-NIV-28155">"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,<sup> </sup>neither the present nor the future, nor any powers,</span> <span class="text Rom-8-39" id="en-NIV-28156">neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38-39, NIV).</span><br />
<span class="text Rom-8-39" id="en-NIV-28156"><br /></span>
<span class="text Rom-8-39" id="en-NIV-28156"><br /></span>
<span class="text Rom-8-39" id="en-NIV-28156"><span style="color: #674ea7;">I LOVE you, mom. Until eternity starts for me, you're here in my heart.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Rom-8-39" id="en-NIV-28156"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><span style="color: black;">With a Heart Full of Love,</span></span></span><br />
<span class="text Rom-8-39" id="en-NIV-28156"><span style="color: #674ea7;"><span style="color: black;">*mandie* </span> </span></span><br />
<span class="text Heb-11-40" id="en-NIV-30213"><br /></span>
<span class="text Heb-11-3" id="en-NIV-30176"><b> </b></span><br />
<br />*Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-27344745709371676372013-05-24T09:39:00.001-05:002013-05-24T09:39:37.351-05:00A Year Ago Today...A year ago today, my family sat in a small but bright room in the stem cell unit of the <a href="http://www.cancercenter.com/">Cancer Treatment Center of America</a> in Zion, IL. My mom was in remission from Philadelphia positive, adult, acute lymphoblastic leukemia; and it was day #1 of her two-day stem cell transplant. We knew little about her non-related donor, except that he was a "he", young, and French. So, to take the edge off of such a weighty day, we threw a French "mustache" RE-birthday party - after all, this was going to be mom's second chance at life, we <i>had</i> to celebrate it!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBoKT2dDP3Lkt_uWXk4P_nY9nScYecauO6qQdCF7lGJpDcTb7hFsFAfNf4yw20zGJUZ_1BeG7gEZOsLOjBcEtLrn3VyPh78JlBiRPuPiDLHjg98RkoJgGloG6ZHG8NFlDRNgReH3Rl4WH/s1600/DSCN3173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBoKT2dDP3Lkt_uWXk4P_nY9nScYecauO6qQdCF7lGJpDcTb7hFsFAfNf4yw20zGJUZ_1BeG7gEZOsLOjBcEtLrn3VyPh78JlBiRPuPiDLHjg98RkoJgGloG6ZHG8NFlDRNgReH3Rl4WH/s320/DSCN3173.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and I during her French "mustache" transplant party, May 24th, 2012.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Today, a year later, I sit in front of my computer, in my small office in my house in Branson, MO...missing my mom like crazy and crying like a little girl.<br />
<br />
Every major holiday or event that has occurred since mom passed on March 7th of this year, I have thought that I needed to write something here - Easter, my son's baby shower, Mother's Day, my 32nd birthday...but I just couldn't. Even now, the words spill out dead and meaningless...nothing is enough, nothing is adequate, nothing will ever be right again.<br />
<br />
I cannot describe to you right now how sad I feel most every day, but the worst is knowing that I have lost my mother when I myself am FINALLY on the cusp of becoming a mother myself. It breaks my heart. And it really hurts knowing that my son will never know his grandmother here on earth - she would have been the BEST! She felt such a kindred connection to him since she was also adopted, and she had so many plans for life with him.<br />
<br />
There is nothing left for me to say here...I'm just not ready, but I want to thank those who have stopped by to check in on me. I appreciate knowing that someone out there cares. And, hopefully, in the near future, I'll be able to write more or at least have something more eloquent to say - my mom deserves that much.<br />
<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-62920898810700949652012-12-18T15:25:00.000-06:002012-12-18T15:25:10.567-06:00Empty Chairs and Empty Tables<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpqoPXvITn6Wbcj_3ybmkgNaRiFf1mp2qWo0Cr56mYwnplq05u5vR_3y9ZgoLKImciN7wW5-YoW_TvD6ZTNIRJVHJ5KFZvVkarcEF48brHN7RJR63fftFrzxPpdU8vAOppBS3PLr8Z9OTH/s1600/emptychairinfocusdailydotcome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpqoPXvITn6Wbcj_3ybmkgNaRiFf1mp2qWo0Cr56mYwnplq05u5vR_3y9ZgoLKImciN7wW5-YoW_TvD6ZTNIRJVHJ5KFZvVkarcEF48brHN7RJR63fftFrzxPpdU8vAOppBS3PLr8Z9OTH/s400/emptychairinfocusdailydotcome.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Courtesy of <a href="http://www.infocusdaily.com/">In Focus Daily</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
My heart and mind are still reeling from the tragedy that occurred last Friday. <br />
<br />
<i>A mother shot by her mentally deranged son, who then targeted and killed many children and teachers at an elementary school before taking his own life.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<b>Tragic. Terrible. Heart-wrenching.</b> <b>Disgusting. Painful. Horrific. Nightmarish.</b><br />
<br />
Words are never enough, are they? That's how I've been feeling; that's why I've been silent. What can I say? No, words are never enough in the aftermath of tragedies like these.<br />
<br />
But many people seem to have plenty to say. Mostly about gun laws - pro or con. This has sparked a massive controversy in America as people on both sides of the fence and people like myself (somewhere between protecting our second amendment rights and making it harder for the mentally ill and unstable to obtain guns/ammo). And as the days go on, that seems to be the <i>only</i> topic of conversation coming out of this event.<br />
<br />
Sure, there are those photo collages popping up here and there on F*cebook; and they all have thousands, perhaps even hundreds of thousands, of "likes", don't they? All those bright, young, beautiful faces staring back from a computer screen, perhaps with a name typed above or below them; but more often than not it's guns we are talking about, and not these selfless and brave teachers and innocent children whose lives were stolen in an instant by a madman.<br />
<br />
After any act of violence, I agree that it is right and good to examine ourselves and how we stand as a people and society. <b>But in this instance, I find myself exhausted of the use of these students' and teachers' lives being used as fodder for political agenda.</b><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i>All I can think about is the endless amounts of empty chairs there will be this holiday season for the families of these victims. All I can think about are the presents with children's names on the tags that will remain forever unopened. All I can think about is the gaping hole in the hearts of the mothers and fathers and husbands and wives and children of these lives so senselessly wasted. The magic of the holiday season is going to be a whole lot dimmer this year for these families; and my heart doesn't just break, it twists and moans and stretches and bleeds for them. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
If we want to discuss something, it should mental health - that of the many perpetrators of violent crimes every day in this country as well as that of those friends and family left behind in the wake of this horrific crime. What are we doing for them? For both sets of them? Obviously, not enough for the one...hopefully, an over-flowing of support and resources for the other.<br />
<br />
Someone on F*cebook said that "prayers and hugging won't help; so stop repeating these things" concerning the Newtown, CT tragedy. <b>Well, I disagree.</b> I have personally witnessed the power of prayer over and over and over again (I also know how much relief and comfort a well-timed bear hug can offer).<br />
<br />
So, please know that if you are reading this, and you will be facing an empty chair this holiday season at your get-togethers, your parties, your family dinners, etc. I <i>will be praying for you and your heart</i>. I will be praying for peace to somehow, someway hold you together and comfort your body, mind, and soul as you weather this treacherous storm of emotions and try to put together the pieces of lives ripped apart by sudden and tragic loss.<b> May LOVE and HAPPY MEMORIES forever fill those empty spaces this holiday season and always.</b><br />
<br />
All the Love in the Universe,<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-47153335865744035622012-11-19T01:51:00.003-06:002012-12-19T17:56:47.333-06:00Natural and Eco-Friendly Health, Beauty, and Home Care<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYmtSBd4Cgv_UKlUL__Q1_AsdQrtL8z5o36W-YXJBI-3cbW0uw7nZ_f1qp86RVooN3jYT6w2vyFg09xrGrDq2bzKSRisulYBf7rx-RirzCvGMbB4l9PokBtvg2ulm154TC-KmcU9rf9HB-/s1600/SDC12368.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYmtSBd4Cgv_UKlUL__Q1_AsdQrtL8z5o36W-YXJBI-3cbW0uw7nZ_f1qp86RVooN3jYT6w2vyFg09xrGrDq2bzKSRisulYBf7rx-RirzCvGMbB4l9PokBtvg2ulm154TC-KmcU9rf9HB-/s320/SDC12368.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my favorite spots on the farm where I grew up.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Many people don't know this, but I grew up on an organic farm in Iowa. Eating organic, recycling, finding alternative power sources, using natural health/beauty/house cleaning products, etc. has been a part of my family's life for decades. Being with mom through <i>two</i> cancer diagnoses, though, has made us hyper aware of our health and specifically what we put <i>in</i> our bodies, what we put <i>on</i> our bodies (I'm talking to you, ladies - our skin is <i>extremely</i> absorbent), and what we use to clean the environment <i>around</i> our bodies.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC0MGzKyejOM5jsuAqY6UKWoPEC9IHOY1lVnnGx-_-bRrRDthe2WlwIp88MsDVF6ZcL9zC4VJjnAkC0T8Fpw-nb6DMtiuUKG9wgskC4zoKLKDkLIKwSjkM3pATCKM6DGObZfs5Y1lX_kle/s1600/SDC12362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC0MGzKyejOM5jsuAqY6UKWoPEC9IHOY1lVnnGx-_-bRrRDthe2WlwIp88MsDVF6ZcL9zC4VJjnAkC0T8Fpw-nb6DMtiuUKG9wgskC4zoKLKDkLIKwSjkM3pATCKM6DGObZfs5Y1lX_kle/s320/SDC12362.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me on the farm in 2009.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I realize that there are people who do "everything right" - eating well and taking good care of themselves - and they <i>still</i> get cancer or get sick. I'm not claiming that by using natural products I am exempt from illness, but I <i>do</i> want to try my very hardest to take the best care of myself that I can by using products that are as natural as possible. I also feel that it is our duty to care for the Earth and many of these products are kind to this planet we inhabit as well - a double whammy of goodness for body and environment.<br />
<br />
When we were at the <a href="http://www.cancercenter.com/">CTCA</a>, people would often ask me what natural health and beauty products I used. There are now so many all-natural companies offering excellent options, I really encourage everyone to go out and try things for themselves as tastes vary so much from person to person; however, I <i>do</i> happen to have some favorites that I love to recommend, because I think they're just <i>so</i> darn good!<br />
<br />
Many of the products listed below can be found at some of my favorite online retailers as well as convenient shops in nearly everyone's neighborhood such as <a href="http://www.target.com/">Target</a>, <a href="http://www.luckyvitamin.com/">Lucky Vitamin</a>, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://www.vitacost.com/">Vitacost</a>, and others. Look around and seek out the best price at the time; which might change from month to month or even week to week with sales and specials.<br />
<br />
<b><u>Favorite Shampoo and Conditioner: Giovanni Tea Tree Triple Treat Shampoo and Conditioner</u></b><br />
<b><u><br /></u></b>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgZXapHGx-sW6hYTltHFxdYr6iEHAP8_JBuG6NWvGHkELEzbWlEqTw9FwXp_ox8iZm6H5sglKemdhJ5jOV92q_SWEZ90ImUmdyS6qgk2ljW08Z1pjSX0sh0g4rmtHXNIVgTNijJvjPT8tt/s1600/giovannishampoo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgZXapHGx-sW6hYTltHFxdYr6iEHAP8_JBuG6NWvGHkELEzbWlEqTw9FwXp_ox8iZm6H5sglKemdhJ5jOV92q_SWEZ90ImUmdyS6qgk2ljW08Z1pjSX0sh0g4rmtHXNIVgTNijJvjPT8tt/s320/giovannishampoo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBLzDHNKd0R3UNjDV9Wa3A6oAOlH4R-vHtwJE4ufpGYJI1u6FMKTakVWz28nXbkeB46n1Wg7Ad-5cUIxhZmac9UNBNLu_XJP-KQD4B8q-crYnH7oGclyoYRTVLAkSfCKJPVsK83y4Bmybq/s1600/giovanniconditioner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBLzDHNKd0R3UNjDV9Wa3A6oAOlH4R-vHtwJE4ufpGYJI1u6FMKTakVWz28nXbkeB46n1Wg7Ad-5cUIxhZmac9UNBNLu_XJP-KQD4B8q-crYnH7oGclyoYRTVLAkSfCKJPVsK83y4Bmybq/s320/giovanniconditioner.jpg" width="113" /></a></div>
These two are by far my favorite hair care products! Mr. C and I both love this pair by <a href="http://www.giovannicosmetics.com/">Giovanni Cosmetics</a>. The tea tree oil is invigorating as it tingles the scalp. The smell is almost minty and not at all overwhelming like some tea tree products can be. I also love that it is safe for color treated hair (more on natural hair color further down). Most conditioners leave my uber-straight, fine hair feeling heavy or at worst greasy. This conditioner is light yet moisturizing. All-in-all, I <i>adore</i> these products!<br />
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<b><u>Runner Up: Avalon Organics Lavender Shampoo</u></b><br />
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I'm a big fan of <a href="http://www.avalonorganics.com/">Avalon Organics</a>. I think their product line is amazing, and this shampoo is really nice. All of the scents are lovely, but there's something soothing about the lavender that I simply love. It has a matching conditioner as well, and they both come in large bottles (shown above) with pumps that last <i>forever</i> and give you the best bang for your buck.</div>
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<b><u>Favorite Body Wash: Dr. Bronner's Magic Castille Soap</u></b></div>
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Mr. C and I just recently started delving into the fantastic world of <a href="http://www.drbronner.com/">Dr. Bronner's</a> magic soaps, but can I just say this company is <i>amazing</i>! I am so impressed with their ethics and commitment to creating the best soaps with the highest quality, fair-trade ingredients possible.</div>
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Most natural soaps (shampoos included) don't lather as much as their chemically-laden counterparts, because they are lacking the nasty stuff (sulfates, phthalates, etc.) that are known carcinogens and therefore <i style="font-weight: bold;">bad</i> for you. Dr. Bronner's castille soap still gets <i>super luxurious</i> lather, though, by using massive quantities of fair-trade coconut oil.</div>
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They also offer about a million scents (okay, that's hyperbole, but there's a LOT of them, really!). I like to mix and match them in the shower to create my own, signature body wash scent based on my mood and how my skin is feeling. For example, most days, I love mixing the almond and rose for a sweet and feminine scent; but if I have a few blemishes trying to pop out, I'll use the tea tree or eucalyptus oil soaps because of their bacteria-killing qualities (bye-bye break-outs!). And just for clarification, this stuff is SO GOOD, I use it as facial cleanser, body wash, and bubble bath. It's also good for making an all-purpose cleaner and laundry soap. :-)</div>
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<b><u>Runner Up: Jason Soothing Aloe Vera Body Wash</u></b></div>
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The Jason company has been a pioneer in the natural body care market for decades. Their products are top-notch in quality and their selection is vast. Mr. C and I love the aloe body wash for its neutral scent and soothing properties (it's very kind to Mr. C's year-round dry skin). These body washes also double nicely has bubble baths. ;-)</div>
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<b><u>Favorite Deodorant: Soap Walla Deodorant Cream</u></b></div>
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My struggle to find an <i>effective, </i>natural deodorant has been literally years in the process. I think I've tried nearly <i>every</i> brand and <i>every</i> product type available to no avail. My main goal was to cut out antiperspirants from my daily routine since they contain aluminum which is linked to breast cancer and Alzheimer disease (and we apply this stuff to our under-arms, a place chock-full of lymph nodes - ugh!). </div>
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While I quickly got over the fact that I do, in fact, sweat (imagine that!); it was harder to get over the constantly sticky feeling most of these vegetable oil based deodorants left behind. But I could have dealt with just about anything to find a natural deodorant that actually <i>deodorized! </i>Most of the time I felt as though I needed to apologize for my own "stank". I'm all for embracing the human body's natural processes (such as sweating), but I'm just not one of the those folks that feels everyone should have to endure my smelliness therefore.</div>
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I had all but given up on the possibility of finding a truly effective natural deodorant when I stumbled upon an online review of <a href="http://www.soapwallakitchen.com/">Soap Walla's</a> deodorant cream. Yes, I said <i>cream</i>. Instead of the traditional hard stick, this deodorant comes in a little tub and is applied like a lotion to the under-arms.</div>
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At first, I thought this would be a massive inconvenience; but as I started using this product on a daily basis, I quickly got over any reservations I may have initially harbored toward this incredible product. This deodorant goes on easily and soaks in quickly - no wetness left behind. The best part is that it's not at all sticky <i>and</i> (wait for it) it <i style="font-weight: bold;">actually works</i>! Unlike most all the other natural deodorants I had tried over the years, I apply this once in the morning and it lasts all day! Miracle of miracles! The smell isn't over-powering at all, yet it's effective; and it is so masterfully compounded that I truly believe both men and women could get away with wearing it without feeling as though they are compromising their masculinity or femininity, respectively. Tea tree oil is used to keep bacteria from growing (and making the aforementioned "stank") while natural powders and clays help to dry up any wetness that may occur. </div>
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I cannot stop bragging up this product; it is truly that amazing!</div>
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<b><u>Favorite Toothpaste: Tom's of Maine Spearmint Fluoride-Free Antiplaque & Whitening Toothpaste</u></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc973bWZwui7eBbA1t3k1FXgc3eLG5wNplDhFvaeObGM4rxjWv_RplFplWXR0pKssEVajE_Vge7pIcLjiEPbPglxPPdbvZrwOaIw9Zi-ovbLWnOJEc4kfb4Iqc7fRQ2WKcjpPevjz0iYWQ/s1600/tomsofmainetoothpaste.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc973bWZwui7eBbA1t3k1FXgc3eLG5wNplDhFvaeObGM4rxjWv_RplFplWXR0pKssEVajE_Vge7pIcLjiEPbPglxPPdbvZrwOaIw9Zi-ovbLWnOJEc4kfb4Iqc7fRQ2WKcjpPevjz0iYWQ/s320/tomsofmainetoothpaste.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Tom's of Maine has some of the best natural toothpastes around, in my opinion. In my experience, many natural tooth polishes are gritty and taste <i>terrible</i>. Spearmint is my personal favorite as far as toothpaste flavors go, and this one is fresh and invigorating. I also love knowing that I'm using a natural toothpaste without having to forgo whitening benefits - win-win!</div>
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<b><u>Favorite Lip Balm: EOS in Sweet Mint</u></b></div>
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There's just something about those bright, little, round globes of lip goo goodness by <a href="http://www.evolutionofsmooth.com/">EOS</a> that I can't help but be drawn to time and again. My favorite lip balms are almost always some type of mint, because they double as breath fresheners; but EOS' sweet mint is especially tasty and not at all over-powering. </div>
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The little dome of balm is held in an egg-like container that fits surprisingly well in my new small handbag, and I love how easily it glides on my lips. Best of all it's nearly all organic, and is entirely natural - very important for a beauty product you literally end up eating most of the time!</div>
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<b><u>Runner Up: Burt's Bees Mango Butter Lip Balm</u></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOHbY1ReKvP6zH2Rdtxb4BzsmTgQUKnQ58ypngeg-16kFCtnwidfxxbxhxSocSWtwrNTz_EOFjHcCfblQHk9YFJuzeHSOWDAVhRu_N20EtWS3Xaz9bve_I1Qdhu1gXKgNg0j2a8MBTOO4g/s1600/burtsbeesmangobutterbalm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOHbY1ReKvP6zH2Rdtxb4BzsmTgQUKnQ58ypngeg-16kFCtnwidfxxbxhxSocSWtwrNTz_EOFjHcCfblQHk9YFJuzeHSOWDAVhRu_N20EtWS3Xaz9bve_I1Qdhu1gXKgNg0j2a8MBTOO4g/s1600/burtsbeesmangobutterbalm.jpg" /></a></div>
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I really love the original <a href="http://www.burtsbees.com/">Burt's Bees</a> lip balm, but the fruity flavors have been growing on me lately. Mango is one of my favorite flavors and fruity scents; so, I was drawn to this balm immediately. It glides on smoothly, smells (and tastes) great, and is 100% natural. </div>
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<b><u>Favorite Moisturizing Body Lotion: Renew Melaleuca Intensive Skin Therapy Lotion</u></b></div>
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Over the past few years, as I've entered my early 30's, I've noticed that my skin has begun to get fairly dry and itchy on a regular basis (an issue I <i>never</i> had to deal with before). I would often slap on some scented lotion from a prominent beauty goods chain only to find I was still dry and often sensitive to the harsh chemicals and scents in their products.</div>
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My parents buy each month from the <a href="http://www.melaleuca.com/">Melaleuca</a> product line, and one day my dad offered me a bottle of their Renew lotion. I was hooked! I especially love to lather this on after I've shaved or after a hot shower. It soaks right in without feeling too thick or gooey. Although, I love nice smells as much as the next girl, this isn't full of fragrance; which is actually good in my opinion for irritated or dry skin, especially in the winter.</div>
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<b><u>Favorite Shave Lotion: Kiss My Face Green Tea and Bamboo Moisture Shave</u></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9cQYXQQJ2BS5jM-X_VWVeTGOvBoC6NvelAkWXgOrd4nL4IZH7dqjD1oroMDefoaTV4w5eWj4C0bBjhBJdZ8rv-KSOUiuY5-dClLJ5qx0xOi-f2Gsh_Uo_NJv5Us3lCz1-Iq5S2khOmTR/s1600/kissmyfacemoistureshave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9cQYXQQJ2BS5jM-X_VWVeTGOvBoC6NvelAkWXgOrd4nL4IZH7dqjD1oroMDefoaTV4w5eWj4C0bBjhBJdZ8rv-KSOUiuY5-dClLJ5qx0xOi-f2Gsh_Uo_NJv5Us3lCz1-Iq5S2khOmTR/s320/kissmyfacemoistureshave.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Although, I believe these moisture shaves by <a href="http://www.kissmyface.com/">Kiss My Face</a> are intended for men's shaving needs, I find they work well for a woman's as well. My dad always used the key lime scent, and once when I was out of shaving cream of my own I used it on my legs. I was pleasantly surprised, so much so that I bought my own bottle; later, I decided to try a new scent, and the was drawn to the fresh, clean fragrance of the green tea and bamboo.</div>
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For those women who find their legs getting particularly dry or irritate during/after shaving (or men whose faces feel the same), I highly recommend this product!</div>
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<b><u>Favorite Hair Dye: Naturtint Natural Hair Color in Fireland</u></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJNXfB3fDFJuSlXYEM0sWM7LkheYF5nZFshRkVy5DQSsw_oAOpIqRlhlaU-FZt5XUhPgEIgb0eeublz5-DxSXtUtgJtuFNpiR_RQY_2amgrlaD4uFaZ0-N9J2BEgpFUzdvbdwwsgIwL0Pj/s1600/naturtintall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJNXfB3fDFJuSlXYEM0sWM7LkheYF5nZFshRkVy5DQSsw_oAOpIqRlhlaU-FZt5XUhPgEIgb0eeublz5-DxSXtUtgJtuFNpiR_RQY_2amgrlaD4uFaZ0-N9J2BEgpFUzdvbdwwsgIwL0Pj/s320/naturtintall.jpg" width="248" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://naturtintusa.com/index.php">Naturtint</a>'s natural colors are as convenient as any other box dye without all the extra nasty stuff that comes along with those commercial brands. Dark hair dyes have been linked to cancer; but as a person who has been dying her hair since she was 13, it was important to me to find an alternative that worked just as well as any other dye I could find.</div>
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You can mix any of their colors to get just the right shade, and because it's all natural (NOT henna) you can dye over it within hours if you absolutely hate how it turned out. I always go for a red; so Fireland is a natural choice, but my sister, W, has used the mahogany-chestnut and it turned out really nicely.</div>
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I haven't had an opportunity to mix a custom color yet, but it might be in the near future. :-) </div>
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<b><u>Favorite Baby All-In-One: California Baby Calming Shampoo and Bodywash</u></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXXc0wTBFTyRiGV34Ndj8inivV_Hp5l9lmF0seCBnvj87JhKnYUcM41ymHlZb_ZeR5OX5acKUnqwPgW-EN1K-cArY-9rqOh8nJ6jnwYykiwYxZzSyy2GHEiAHvnU7MUY7-fzgYyBsTLCU1/s1600/yhst-83878190403399_2234_80936738.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXXc0wTBFTyRiGV34Ndj8inivV_Hp5l9lmF0seCBnvj87JhKnYUcM41ymHlZb_ZeR5OX5acKUnqwPgW-EN1K-cArY-9rqOh8nJ6jnwYykiwYxZzSyy2GHEiAHvnU7MUY7-fzgYyBsTLCU1/s1600/yhst-83878190403399_2234_80936738.gif" /></a></div>
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Okay, so truthfully, as you all know I have obviously not been able to put this one into practice <i>yet</i>; but this <i>really is</i> the product we plan on using on Desmond when he gets home from South Korea. In fact, we're pretty enamored with the whole <a href="http://www.californiababy.com/">California Baby</a> product line in general. All of their products are allergy tested, and many are free of gluten and other known allergens that can irritate sensitive baby skin causing rashes.</div>
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Usually, I love anything labeled "calming" (after all, who couldn't use a little more calm in their life?!); and this body wash was no exception. Desmond's developmental report says he loves bath time; so, I'm hoping this soothing body wash will help keep him loving it even after he comes home to us.</div>
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<b><u>Runner Up: Dr. Bronner's Baby Mild Liquid Soap</u></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd1ju7XVOmLuPG7Eh2xqXgGjn3hkPUZJzQrW0_nVQriSQnMeXsjYZiAq5GwDAweu4aneVvKsflot7y7LR2f44Vwuc3pi8KDtOZZUNXNQYG58OEZ1iuOtHtZa9sevMf0IB9dGl-y8iQfPjn/s1600/bronnerbabysoap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd1ju7XVOmLuPG7Eh2xqXgGjn3hkPUZJzQrW0_nVQriSQnMeXsjYZiAq5GwDAweu4aneVvKsflot7y7LR2f44Vwuc3pi8KDtOZZUNXNQYG58OEZ1iuOtHtZa9sevMf0IB9dGl-y8iQfPjn/s320/bronnerbabysoap.jpg" width="271" /></a></div>
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Yep, it's Dr. Bronner's again! I've already sent Desmond's foster omma a bottle of this to use on his hair and body. It's completely scent-free; so, I know there's nothing in it to cause an allergic reaction and irritate his skin. I'm also considering washing his clothes in this as it doubles as a laundry detergent (it even comes in a convenient one gallon jug size for that purpose). </div>
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<b><u>Favorite Household Cleaner: Homemade Vinegar Solution</u></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_NsUloNxSdJDhswrlkjasHk_HwDJGKc8GSR5aPWiY7sjL9PaEl2Vp8-6s6Ks00AFH_cy9vHksg1QrejRUMS1mdiOj0dXo3aU-NrFYjZUYngckVGynnS7LXnCkSgFB3pGXsotgViK2CfZp/s1600/spectrumorganicvinegar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_NsUloNxSdJDhswrlkjasHk_HwDJGKc8GSR5aPWiY7sjL9PaEl2Vp8-6s6Ks00AFH_cy9vHksg1QrejRUMS1mdiOj0dXo3aU-NrFYjZUYngckVGynnS7LXnCkSgFB3pGXsotgViK2CfZp/s1600/spectrumorganicvinegar.jpg" /></a></div>
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Mr. C and I have been making our own, homemade household cleaner out of organic vinegar, alcohol, water, and essential oils. Recently, we've taken to putting several drops of either eucalyptus or tea tree oils for their bacteria -killing properties.</div>
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I feel good knowing that we are saving money on these long-lasting homemade products as well as cleaning with a solution that is safe to spray around my soon-to-be toddler and pets.</div>
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<b><u>Runner Up: Earth's Best All Natural All Purpose Cleaner</u></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj2iQ0Q_RmrmSCwP20PokECPD4dnASSjx1D8mQBKaiBjGmqndsaG2s0-ksW4eE5Eo9eoxCZGnj5dS2URVWDvPdmMgchOEC3DyQpnP1LMAe9OCSb78fIzsRzAf3W7zt5OAosfAEko0kov1m/s1600/earthsbestallpurposecleaner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj2iQ0Q_RmrmSCwP20PokECPD4dnASSjx1D8mQBKaiBjGmqndsaG2s0-ksW4eE5Eo9eoxCZGnj5dS2URVWDvPdmMgchOEC3DyQpnP1LMAe9OCSb78fIzsRzAf3W7zt5OAosfAEko0kov1m/s320/earthsbestallpurposecleaner.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is touted as a "nursery cleaner", but it's really just an all-purpose cleaner that's safe enough to use in a nursery. <a href="http://www.earthsbest.com/">Earth's Best</a> is one of my favorite product lines for infants and toddlers. In fact, we are sending Desmond some of their organic formula in a care package. I just love their commitment to organic children's food products; warms this momma-to-be's heart.</div>
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<b><u>Favorite Laundry Detergent: Homemade</u></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuzGli8HBYBy0ddkzZeQsh5SFHRyYLuOB_ZzXKGdU0nVzPOw9e9NL0UAEYCSguY22FTRIuV8Pd2ls0phDeB10pkq1AfCsSPWD6jjpJZOLa-O1Mj6BWBElHvifiHB5OCo1txDaxX5HOfAL1/s1600/Picture-172-300x240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuzGli8HBYBy0ddkzZeQsh5SFHRyYLuOB_ZzXKGdU0nVzPOw9e9NL0UAEYCSguY22FTRIuV8Pd2ls0phDeB10pkq1AfCsSPWD6jjpJZOLa-O1Mj6BWBElHvifiHB5OCo1txDaxX5HOfAL1/s1600/Picture-172-300x240.jpg" /></a></div>
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I like <a href="http://theecofriendlyfamily.com/2009/08/laundry-detergent/">this recipe</a> from one of my favorite blogs <a href="http://www.theecofriendlyfamily.com/">The Eco Friendly Family</a>. It's simple, cheap, and makes a ton!</div>
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<b><u>Runner Up: Seventh Generation 2x Concentrated Laundry Detergent</u></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJNM_78XlvjnrxvZTNBOxk-D6oGPiG8SRJfVW63yCUKTN75XW7vs1SqYNWrqe_j_wvIgg5IJ6L2LlZJU3h6aN6DZLdiGsIj7NhvUc4Q0wa6xiiJPzeyCDpdFXedIAUR5MAEjsKKE4WO9W/s1600/7thgenerationlaundry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJNM_78XlvjnrxvZTNBOxk-D6oGPiG8SRJfVW63yCUKTN75XW7vs1SqYNWrqe_j_wvIgg5IJ6L2LlZJU3h6aN6DZLdiGsIj7NhvUc4Q0wa6xiiJPzeyCDpdFXedIAUR5MAEjsKKE4WO9W/s320/7thgenerationlaundry.jpg" width="290" /></a></div>
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My family has been using Seventh Generation products for a long while now, and I've always been a big fan of their laundry detergent.</div>
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There are more products that I love; so, I think I might have to follow this up with another post. But I hope this has given all of you just beginning to delve into the world of natural health/beauty and home care products a good jumping off point.</div>
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Be Well, Be Blessed,</div>
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*mandie*</div>
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*Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-56828217751781840122012-10-19T02:10:00.004-05:002012-10-19T02:15:23.327-05:00Best Anniversary Gift EVER!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdqtDiZbhfEgE0aGZA5L14X38Tpfm2PpU5m_AzA5E4LKS0u2HLKneRKP5GP_9BwESkjjFm3f9kh6pvGfVF_DLJJi-q5y6nXCDKaxOEZnBdJPO1MlMW_9s8S5bAxVVLxujTILUx1jGIszsw/s1600/The-Gift-of-Identity-Monitoring.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdqtDiZbhfEgE0aGZA5L14X38Tpfm2PpU5m_AzA5E4LKS0u2HLKneRKP5GP_9BwESkjjFm3f9kh6pvGfVF_DLJJi-q5y6nXCDKaxOEZnBdJPO1MlMW_9s8S5bAxVVLxujTILUx1jGIszsw/s320/The-Gift-of-Identity-Monitoring.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of <a href="http://blog.protectmyid.com/2009/12/14/the-gift-of-identity-monitoring/">http://blog.protectmyid.com/2009/12/14/the-gift-of-identity-monitoring/</a>.</td></tr>
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<br />
Today was our 4th anniversary. That would have been enough to make us gloriously happy, but we got the BEST anniversary gift EVER:<br />
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A REFERRAL!<br />
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That's right, folks, <b><i>we're parents!</i></b><br />
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I can't share a lot of information until our little one's acceptance paperwork is filed (should be next week), but suffice it to say we are wonderfully, amazingly, and deliriously HAPPY. It was the most incredible moment to open that Internet file and SEE our child's face!<br />
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We are so in love with this little one, and can't wait to be able to share more in the near future. I think it took me a good 3 hours to stop shaking and tearing up every five seconds. It was so heart-warming to call all of our family members and close friends and shout, "WE'RE PARENTS!" To be able to finally give such wonderful news to these people who have been supporting us for so long...well, it felt surreal.<br />
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The most touching thing for me was to see the out-pouring of love and well-wishes from our friends on Facebook. Many of these dear friends and family members are now scattered all across the country and world. We don't get to see each other often, but to know how much they love and support our baby just overwhelmed me with emotion. I can't wait to share with them how vast the sea of love embracing them was/is. We are all so truly blessed.<br />
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Next time I post, I will *hopefully* be posting pictures of the sweetest little face I've ever seen. Prepare your hearts for an extreme case of the swoons.<br />
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Feeling so, SO blessed right now...we absolutely had the best anniversary EVER!<br />
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All the Love in the Universe,<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-44488236332472600972012-10-16T19:33:00.002-05:002012-10-17T13:43:02.730-05:00The (forever?) Empty Womb<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoAQ2SS083pKmgWXCUQU7MuBsfZPlt43jxVB0TG1jarBSx07CcAZXVMwc-iXLN5qkuLbcC3hsF4XuHIZZ7Vd0x2HMfygREleY96i0RODW7N268MjNq2q6KhKhRRxHLZyQ9xs7Sk8FK7UQG/s1600/emptywomb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoAQ2SS083pKmgWXCUQU7MuBsfZPlt43jxVB0TG1jarBSx07CcAZXVMwc-iXLN5qkuLbcC3hsF4XuHIZZ7Vd0x2HMfygREleY96i0RODW7N268MjNq2q6KhKhRRxHLZyQ9xs7Sk8FK7UQG/s320/emptywomb.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of <a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/57579085/empty-but-for-love-grieving-mother">TheMidnightOrange</a>.</td></tr>
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<br />
*First, I think I need to preface this post by stating <i>loudly</i> that I'm not angry or upset or bitter or jealous of other women's pregnancies. <i style="font-weight: bold;">I'M REALLY NOT! </i>In fact, when I hear of other women becoming pregnant after long, arduous, heart-wrenching battles with IF, I am actually cheering right along with them. So, PLEASE, don't get all righteous telling me how I should be glad for others or how I sound bitter...I <i>am</i> glad for others...I'm actually <i>not</i> bitter. Everything I'm writing about today is really just observation and a healthy dose of realization on my part...about what my future might really (not) hold.*<br />
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The past few months have been fraught with pregnancy and birth announcements - many people I know IRL, some I've only ever known via the Internet. Some are those of fellow cysters or those battling some other form of IF; several have been "regular" folks who just got knocked up the "old fashioned way". But today, I found out that pretty much the <i>last</i> girl I had known to be battling IF is now pregnant via donor eggs and IVF.<br />
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For some reason it all really hit me:<br />
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<b><i>I am the LAST one left standing. I am the last "barren woman"...I am a statistic.</i></b><br />
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I remember sitting in our new RE's office way back in 2010 with Mr. C, god, we were so naive and optimistic - so gloriously optimistic! Doctor was laying everything out about my recent diagnosis of <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmedhealth/PMH0001408/">PCOS</a>. While he explained all that would be most likely needed to get me pregnant, he noted that we shouldn't worry; because only about 5% of women with PCOS don't end up getting pregnant when medical intervention is applied.<br />
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<i>GREAT!</i> We thought. <i>We'll be pregnant in no time, then!</i><br />
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Wow, gloriously optimistic, indeed.<br />
<br />
Fast forward through all of the meds, procedures, and IUI's; and it looks like <i>we</i> are that 5% that don't ever succeed. True, we never dove into IVF; but at that point, the money had run out, and it was either adoption (= guarantee) or IVF (= no guarantee). We went with adoption (which doesn't mean it isn't difficult and fraught with disappointment...only that in the END, there <i>will</i> be a baby).<br />
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Sometimes it blows my mind that this didn't work out for us. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I'm super angry and feel like screaming or throwing a pregnant lady off a cliff (okay, not REALLY). Sometimes I get into a depressed funk that lasts for days. Sometimes the thought comes and then flits away quickly as if I never really cared about it at all. Strange.<br />
<br />
Now that I'm so far removed from the "trying" (and "failing") stages, I can say that more than anything I wonder a lot about what I'm "missing out on". And then, I have to think, "What if it truly <i>never</i> happens - EVER?" What if I die, and I never conceived or gave birth? What does that mean? How will it affect me, my life, my family, my marriage? Does it even matter? What's God's will? Or is it all just on me, did I not try hard enough to make this happen?<br />
<br />
Knowing what I know now about all the weird, crazy, seemingly random steps God took to protect my sister and my mom from their health issues, it makes me wonder if infertility is a way of protecting me and Mr. C too. Would we have a terrible miscarriage? Do I have a malformation like my sister that would also most likely burst if I ever got pregnant that I just don't know about? Would our child inherit some crazy cancer gene and have to fight for his/her life like my mom? Would they have epilepsy and get hurt like Mr. C or my sister? The questions abound, but at the end of the day the reality is - "who knows?" We <i>could </i> conceive and have a perfectly healthy pregnancy and child. OR, something could go terribly wrong. But, aren't these things <i>every </i> parent-to-be has to consider? So, really, am I just trying to make myself feel better over the fact that we FAILED to conceive?<br />
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Possibly. Very probably, actually.<br />
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When I was in college, I took an English class entitled "Rooms, Tombs, and Wombs in Women's Literature". Although there were many themes that ran through this class' coursework, the undercurrent was always the same - all of these things are meant to be filled in one way or another. And in regards to women, the womb is the most powerful container of all. <i><b>Within its confines, the spark of life itself bursts into being; it is truly the most incredible act of creation a woman can participate in.</b></i><br />
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But what does that mean for a woman like me? What if I never get to "create" in that way? Am I in some way deficient? Do I miss out on touching the universe on some higher plane? <br />
<br />
In my heart, I want to believe that these questions are silly; but then again, are they? I can't be the only infertile woman wondering these things...<br />
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I don't have any answers to these multitudinous quandaries...perhaps I never will, and probably there is a life lesson even in that realization as well. All I know is that my womb is empty...it has never been "full", I have never felt life bursting at the seams within me (our miscarriages were too early for me to even realize I was truly pregnant, let alone <i>feel</i> anything)...and there is a very great possibility that I <i>never will. </i>I wish I knew how I felt about that prospect, but at the moment I just don't know yet.<br />
<br />
Is anyone else out there contemplating the reality of a (possibly) forever empty womb? How do you cope with this reality? Does it bother you or do you rarely think of it?<br />
<br />
Just thoughts...I hope I can expound upon this at a later time...these have been fairly rambling thoughts, but I think all of these questions are weighty and deserve real and honest contemplation.<br />
<br />
Love Love Love,<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-13057527123673784442012-10-15T00:13:00.002-05:002012-10-15T00:18:06.552-05:00Pictures from the Cancer Battlefield, Part 17: Almost There<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNPrWMp07DvHWEzsq-7oWw6hovUebJc185ADS349X7omStFxaVYns6YPlgGiTIWLj8sGdICchrtNAlnPeYGkQPjMvEjM7eDGuR2Ugb7Mlhq4J8ZCkgXxa2KRQ4p2gR_rjgXJD0JucREcSd/s1600/DSCN3296.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNPrWMp07DvHWEzsq-7oWw6hovUebJc185ADS349X7omStFxaVYns6YPlgGiTIWLj8sGdICchrtNAlnPeYGkQPjMvEjM7eDGuR2Ugb7Mlhq4J8ZCkgXxa2KRQ4p2gR_rjgXJD0JucREcSd/s320/DSCN3296.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I found this while reading in mom's hospital room one day...very fitting and a good reminder for those days when you feel like your battle is too great. Your Abba dreamed up the very cosmos...nothing is too great for Him.</td></tr>
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Many people have been asking when mom will be going home for good. The answer is VERY SOON. The estimate is early November, but there are few things left to be done to wrap up her lengthy stay in Zion.<br />
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First, she has two more interthecals (where they shoot the chemo straight into the spinal cord) to do. She has already done two the past couple of weeks. A lot of people don't understand why she has to keep doing interthecals when she already did so many during her 8 rounds of chemo pre-transplant.<br />
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Well, the idea is that with a nasty diagnosis like Philadelphia positive, adult ALL, recurrence could be high; HOWEVER, they (whoever "they" are) have discovered that after 8 rounds of "A" and "B" chemo (including interthecals each "B" side), a stem cell transplant, and 4 rounds of extra interthecals, the chances of recurrence reduce to something like 1%. <b>PRETTY DARN AMAZING</b>. So, while mom was not overjoyed to have to do these last four interthecals; she liked the odds in her favor if she agreed to them, so of course she did.<br />
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Even though mom has been out-patient for a couple of weeks, she has still had to go in to stem cell clinic every day for CBC (complete blood counts), fluids, potassium, magnesium, and even some blood products a couple of times. It's quite common to need these things after stem cell transplant. When she gets home to Iowa, the plan is to have an organization come in daily to the house to help her with physical therapy (PT), clean, cook a bit, and do her CBC's and med support from the comfort of her recliner. It will be so nice to be HOME at last!<br />
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She continues to do fairly well with her PT - going from not being able to walk at all to being able to walk fairly well with the aid of a walker but still needing some help getting up and down from sitting positions. This will continue to get better and better, and she will keep up her PT when she goes home to Iowa for an entire year, per doctor's orders.<br />
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Her kidneys are functioning at around 40%; which is great considering she had complete kidney <i>failure</i> in July. Everyone is amazed at how much they have improved and continue to improve. We are believing for total restoration of kidney function. I know if God can save her from everything else that He has, He can restore her kidneys entirely too. But, the good news is they are functioning well enough that she will never need dialysis again - praise God! Now, we just have to get her to DRINK MORE water during the day; so her creatinine levels will stay down in the normal range!<br />
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A few days ago mom had another bone marrow biopsy...I remember last November when they couldn't even get a good sample of her bone marrow, because it was so incredibly riddled with leukemia cells. Now, it's clean as a whistle; <i>not one trace of cancer resides there.</i> How amazing is that?! Her spinal fluid came back completely negative as well. God is so good to heal!<br />
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The next day, I had a biopsy of my own...remember the stage 3C, cervical pre-cancer I had back in 2010? Well, yeah, it's STILL gone - woo hoo! I've been pre-cancer free for almost TWO WHOLE YEARS! I'm so blessed!<br />
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Meanwhile, Mr. C and I are glad to have this month off and be back in Branson (home!). We have used this time to *nearly* finish Baby C's nursery, clean the house, sleep a LOT, take walks, be with our doggy who has stayed with Mr. C's mom and step-dad this whole time, and see people/go places we haven't laid eyes on in months and months. It's been glorious!<br />
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Towards the end of this month, we will head back to Chicago/Zion to help move mom and everyone from the apartment in Waukegan back to my parents' house in Iowa. As glad as I will be to have this awful/amazing journey over with, it's going to be so incredibly strange to leave the <a href="http://www.cancercenter.com/">CTCA</a>. We've made so many friends, and it's really become the norm for Mr. C and I to be there every day. I can't imagine what it will be like to be "done" with it all. At the same time, I'm delighted. It's time. We're all weary and exhausted of hospital rooms and hospital food and protocols and doctors and just all of it. It's so hard to just "go back to real life"; but then again, that's the point of all of this, isn't it? To get healthy so you can go back to living your "real life". So hard to remember that when you're caught up in the midst of the every day fight.<br />
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I know we will all forever be grateful to the doctors, nurses, PCT's, radiologists, assistants, culinary staff, janitorial staff, pastoral care, care managers, and so many, many more at the CTCA who made us feel welcome, comfortable, and like family along this journey. And to all those fighting along side us in the trenches - the other patients and family members - we will never forget you and are now friends for life. There is an unbreakable bond connecting those who have suffered so much together, and I know we are truly "family".<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinqubu4L6MTACnQu0GKeoDu-6DF2xKPlhweS8PN8cs6an9J4tQB2D7MVMFHng1UaZCyRrmVT40p3xP8ep46xjmCUzTA5X7c741sp6iBUF6eqlYQzsPIAiktv86UktBpAdmslKlGRu91Bx_/s1600/DSCN3506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinqubu4L6MTACnQu0GKeoDu-6DF2xKPlhweS8PN8cs6an9J4tQB2D7MVMFHng1UaZCyRrmVT40p3xP8ep46xjmCUzTA5X7c741sp6iBUF6eqlYQzsPIAiktv86UktBpAdmslKlGRu91Bx_/s320/DSCN3506.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and Pastor Toi from religious care. She is a blessing - always so positive and full of God's word!</td></tr>
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Though this hasn't been the most fun journey that we've been on the past year, it's been a journey I will never take for granted. My mother has been healed and we have been shown the power and might of our Abba God - some people never get to see that in their whole lifetimes and only <i>wonder</i> if He is great and faithful and compassionate. We were <i>shown</i> all those things and more. BLESSED.<br />
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I look forward to the day when I can shout that mom will be going HOME to Iowa for good. It's very soon, my friends...we're *almost* there!<br />
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Blessings,<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-75647789674135220452012-10-06T22:02:00.000-05:002012-10-10T19:29:12.755-05:00I'm in love with a boy in the world<i>*We received notice that the answer is "no". We do not get to parent "L". We're both pretty heart-broken and are back to waiting for a referral from the Korea program. It has been 17 long months since we started this process...we are aching to know who our child is.*</i><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3RMzI0k9W2-YtK-REvmBtH7g-xogX66gnCeJK4Yh5UpKxiBe_xBImO2g51kMNSY_77WEOiKSbE_e6N0ucRvmdRQGXv-B8-NOcXubm1nVsp7o4ai1pkIpVOxuWWtyc5lAFMOl0oqhQKAM_/s1600/theberrydotcom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3RMzI0k9W2-YtK-REvmBtH7g-xogX66gnCeJK4Yh5UpKxiBe_xBImO2g51kMNSY_77WEOiKSbE_e6N0ucRvmdRQGXv-B8-NOcXubm1nVsp7o4ai1pkIpVOxuWWtyc5lAFMOl0oqhQKAM_/s320/theberrydotcom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of <a href="http://www.theberry.com/">The Berry</a></td></tr>
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<br />
It's true...I have fallen for a waiting child. I think I'm in love with this little dude.<br />
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And while most people would be giddy with delight over finding a kiddo they connect with...I'm worried. Worried we'll get denied, turned away - and one day soon I'll see a big "I have a family!" posted happily across his sweet photo-listing picture; and I'll have a hole in my heart.<br />
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What's the big deal? Well, this little guy is in the China program; and we have been approved for Korea. Would it be a big, giant pain-in-the-butt to switch programs? Kinda. China is a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hague_Convention_on_Protection_of_Children_and_Co-operation_in_Respect_of_Intercountry_Adoption">Hague</a> country, while Korea is not. It's a whole different <strike>set</strike> pile of paperwork and a whole new bag of rules. Then, there's the fact that this sweet boy has some issues that would need surgery. I know our insurance company will cover any child we adopt; but with recent changes to our policy I'm not sure how far they'd go for a pre-existing condition, and his treatments *could be* costly. I think everything would be okay, but in truth, I don't know. So, we've got a lot of praying to do and a lot of questions to ask to more than one person. I'm hoping we'll learn more on Monday from our agency and our social worker.<br />
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In all honesty, I never thought I'd connect to a waiting child. This probably sounds terrible, but the children on the waiting child photo-listing are the ones who are usually older and have more demanding special needs. Looking through the sea of faces in the past, I always felt over-whelmed and nearly felt like hyperventilating when reading through the kiddos' medical files. But when I found little "L", I didn't feel that way at all. In fact, I burst into tears for no reason whatsoever. He just looked so precious, I couldn't help but feel an instant connection.<br />
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I have no clue what the future holds. In all reality, we are probably not eligible to adopt this boy; which is really going to break my heart in half. Even though he's not what I thought I "wanted" - special needs kiddo, already 2 years old, in the China program - I am truly drawn to him, and Mr. C is too.<br />
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If you find the time, please pray for God to guide this whole situation for us and "L". If the answer is "no"; I just want him to find the best family EVER and SOON. Also, I really need hope that we will get a referral from Korea soon; and that I'll feel the same "zing" I feel just looking at "L".<br />
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Trust me, I'm the first to realize how foolhardy this is - so much of our journey toward adoption is done and now this could throw everything for a loop. It's not the wisest, and I can't explain it; but I can't stop staring at this little boy. I'm just giving it over to God; I have to keep trusting that He does, indeed, have a perfect plan.<br />
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Dreaming/Praying/Hoping,<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-19911603516801892142012-09-30T21:41:00.000-05:002012-10-01T13:50:37.229-05:00The Mystery of the Vanishing PostYou may have noticed that my last post has vanished. No, it's not an evil, Internet magician, just me deciding that it was far too whiny and sad and pathetic.<br />
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Honestly, I feel I've been entirely too pessimistic lately. Rewind to where my family was last year: wondering if my mom was going to live or die and what a holiday season without her would really be like, and I find myself slapping myself in the brain screaming, "Why are you so sad/angry/depressed right now anyway?!"<br />
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Good question.<br />
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If I had to get all psychoanalytical on myself, I'd say I have a bit of survivor's guilt. Now, I <i>know</i> I wasn't the one battling stage 4 leukemia; but I <i>was</i> there every day (save 4 weeks spent back in Branson doing adoption "stuff") from November 15th, 2011 onward, and I felt every bit of the nerves and fear and terror that comes with battling this terrible disease.<br />
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While God answered all of our prayers concerning mom, I had to watch some very dear, sweet, amazing friends lose their battles with cancer. I realize that most people say life will never be the same after such a journey, but I didn't know how truly UN-cliche those statements were until I lived it - twice in 3 years. <br />
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No, life will <i>never </i>be the same; and while I know I'm a better person for what I have witnessed and been through, I am sporting some pretty raw scars in the mind and heart departments. And while I'm hurting like mad, I can only imagine what these people's family members are feeling - the constant ache, the never-ending sadness, the twisting of anxious stomachs and nervous minds. Terrible.<br />
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<b>I think it's only natural, then, that my disgusting self-pity spilled over into the adoption process.</b><br />
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Okay, seriously, do I think it's unfair that I have now heard of THREE families who have been matched before us when their HSTK were MONTHS after ours? YES. I think it really sucks, actually; but here's the deal, folks: <i>there's nothing I can do about it.</i> And whining, complaining, throwing a fit - none of these things will help us get a referral any sooner.<br />
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It was really hard to hear <a href="http://www.holtinternational.org/">Holt</a> say what they did to us during our recent phone sessions, but in the end I have to keep my eyes focused on God. I have to believe He has a plan for our family - for our child(ren) - or else I will literally lose my mind. Am I still upset? Absolutely. Tremendously. Achingly. Do I cry often? Yes, more than I care to admit. But, do I still have hope? Yes, so much. I cling to it. I have to believe that we <b>WILL</b> be able to complete our adoption from Korea. I have to just keep praying daily that for some reason we are on the Korean social worker's heart and mind, and that she finds a match for our family very soon.<br />
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So much of this family-building process has been out of our control. You can't control lost fertility. You can't control miscarriages. You can't control failed fertility treatments. You can't control wrongful actions made by adoption agencies. You can't control a birth mom/family changing their minds and deciding to parent when they've made you promises to the otherwise. None of those things can be controlled. <b>BUT</b>, I do know that God has <i>always</i> been in control. In the midst of chaos, He was working things into His perfect order.<br />
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<b>Our child is out there. He is waiting for us just as we wait for him. We will be united someday soon.</b><br />
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These are truths I cling to when the wait gets too tough to bear. I'm still upset, but being negative doesn't help anything at all - ever. My parents were always grinding it into my sisters and I that the Bible is clear that what we speak and think goes out into the universe ahead of us creating a path for us that is either negative or positive - but the choice is ultimately OURS.<br />
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<b>So here is something I <i>can</i> control: what I say and think.</b><br />
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If you send out negativity and pessimism, how can you be surprised when you fail or do not get what you want? Most people who are successful are extremely optimistic. They shine out positivity and it gets radiated back to them in so many ways. It doesn't mean that bad things never happen to you, but it means that the outcome will almost always be in your favor - even if only in the sense that you will be able to see the light in a dark situation.<br />
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<span style="background-color: #f9fdff; color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;"><i><b>"Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours." - Mark 11:24</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Lucida Grande, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 20.366666793823242px;"><b><i>"Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing." -Proverbs 12:19</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #f9fdff; color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><i><b>"I tell you the truth, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven." -Matthew 18:18</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #f9fdff; color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><i><b>"...You do not have, because you do not ask..." -James 4:2</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">All four of these verses demonstrate the power of positive thinking and positive confession. We are promised that we will have what our hearts desire (Psalm 37:4), all we have to do is believe and ask and then stand firm. So, instead of whining and complaining about other families getting matched way out of order or crying all the time; I am going to start confessing every day (and night!) that our child is out there, doing great, being loved by his foster family, and that we will be matched VERY soon.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">I hope that the next time I blog it will be because we have been matched; but if not, I have some super exciting stuff to share with you all - pictures of Baby C's nursery! It's *almost* done. We are just waiting on a few more things to get here from some online stores, then I can officially step back and breathe a bit. I'm sure I'll want to tweak things here and there all the time; but when these last items come in, I feel fairly confident that I'll be content for a while, at least. Oooh, it's seriously so exciting to me to decorate his space! It really makes the adoption "real" to me for some reason.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Today is Cheseok in South Korea (sort of like our Thanksgiving); and besides Christmas, this is probably the biggest holiday of the year. I can't help but wonder where Baby C is and what he's doing. I'm just sure he's with his foster family, hanging out with relatives, being showered with love and attention - at least that's what I hope and pray. Gosh, I'm grateful for his foster family! How will I ever be able to thank them enough?</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Anyway, that's the mystery of the vanishing post...I hope you can all forgive me for my negativity; it's toxic, and I'm going to try so hard to quit letting it get the best of me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Love and Blessings,</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">*mandie*</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">PS: Mom is going out-patient tomorrow! Yes, it's true! I will try to write a blog tomorrow reiterating some of the information about her prophylactic chemo treatments and how she's doing tomorrow or the next day since I had several paragraphs about that in the post I deleted. But please know it's all amazing, fantastic, wonderful news; so NO WORRIES. :-)</span></span></div>
*Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-15303291126055083242012-08-31T12:43:00.002-05:002012-09-30T21:41:45.115-05:00Pictures from Cancer Battlefield, Part 16: Dad's 54th Birthday or Every Holiday but OneWednesday, we celebrated dad's 54th birthday. This means our family celebrated EVERY holiday that a year has to offer <i>here at the <a href="http://www.cancercenter.com/">CTCA </a></i>except one: our 4th anniversary on October 18th.<br />
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Everything from Thanksgiving to Christmas to New Years to Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day and Easter...they were all spent here this past year. All the birthdays too - from Whitney's in November to dad's here just Wednesday... It reminds me of the song from the musical "Rent" when they ask how you measure your life...in this case, I suppose we could measure in holidays and birthday celebrations...and the fact that we even got to celebrate mom's in February was a miracle to be marked in and of itself. God has been so good to us.<br />
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I am not complaining; I'm really not. I know that this journey here in Zion has changed my entire family for the better. We are so much stronger and more grounded in God's word than ever before. And what could possibly shake us now? Nothing. We know how to let God be in control (as He always was) and let go of our own naive ideas of "want" and "need".<br />
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<i>"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, when you face trials of many kinds; because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work; so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." - James 1:2-4 (NIV) </i><br />
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We've been saying for a long while now how God only allows trials and tribulations for one of two reasons: <b>to correct or to perfect.</b> I know this to be true. We were corrected along this journey many times, but more importantly, we were perfected; so that when the time comes, we will be ready, willing, and able to stand up and shout His glory to the world.<br />
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Oh, and I almost forgot...........<b>Mom WALKED yesterday! Yep, she WALKED, folks!</b> This is a HUGE step in her healing process. Once she can walk unassisted, she will be allowed to go out-patient; and beyond that, her numbers are so good, she will probably go home (that's right, actually back home to Iowa) soon after that! <br />
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<i>So many miracles...how blessed can one family be?</i><br />
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Here are some pictures from the past couple of weeks:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaC_lpiYDG-_Ztc7uNsgKlq0PrmDHjkhJrDUKhNdw9PsD-m_y0Fg9g_-BSB9iPgCIk7GB8l64Uv8lFTxuKFPkCbL2xMzwZYUhiLbVQJyryd1JyQGh1o2yRrbU1ZBrBGRCzZH2PL-qM4xdV/s1600/DSCN3450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaC_lpiYDG-_Ztc7uNsgKlq0PrmDHjkhJrDUKhNdw9PsD-m_y0Fg9g_-BSB9iPgCIk7GB8l64Uv8lFTxuKFPkCbL2xMzwZYUhiLbVQJyryd1JyQGh1o2yRrbU1ZBrBGRCzZH2PL-qM4xdV/s400/DSCN3450.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and one of our favorite members of the housekeeping staff, Connie. She brought mom that little jewelry box back from Mexico a week ago when she went to visit her family. SO NICE!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXuKd_e8cYCfTuimM1Lfi3HJbCLUs8X35R_uaF_Iz3ENDrOBiBA_PboSjmc_4V5BMG4eZj2KezXa63yhu23CdONg07rc5w4oFS1OZd6zuExEZh9H5BvWW-QmgkwGXc2HCNbe5Lt6zSDbje/s1600/DSCN3391.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXuKd_e8cYCfTuimM1Lfi3HJbCLUs8X35R_uaF_Iz3ENDrOBiBA_PboSjmc_4V5BMG4eZj2KezXa63yhu23CdONg07rc5w4oFS1OZd6zuExEZh9H5BvWW-QmgkwGXc2HCNbe5Lt6zSDbje/s400/DSCN3391.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and her nurse, Raul. He was her first night nurse ever, and he always calls mom "his baby". He's so sweet!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqnBlw_czijE8KpGAEX0yUBSZJpJSfYuAu6ptR0mDWgnGupkAsUD7SDda8nq9OSrbEwi6iizfMnt6wiPXfOM_iM0FjQ0evaV0elnafs-VrZfDdTn_jmB6rKzb66o35t61YKvLUqB6xwIHU/s1600/DSCN3477.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqnBlw_czijE8KpGAEX0yUBSZJpJSfYuAu6ptR0mDWgnGupkAsUD7SDda8nq9OSrbEwi6iizfMnt6wiPXfOM_iM0FjQ0evaV0elnafs-VrZfDdTn_jmB6rKzb66o35t61YKvLUqB6xwIHU/s400/DSCN3477.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad opening cards.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyp9-sNrCwNdprGMF8LPbkZtQQdbBYLCfjyaRXsTgL8KAwJpx2FrL5hB2x4vjEjxQrMrB-Apeqxe7jW6Ao_5snonDAW92f81XkexU3o66kZAZ5VW8B1KR4gstmxlKFtJBGQDFTU4tqr9ce/s1600/DSCN3469.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyp9-sNrCwNdprGMF8LPbkZtQQdbBYLCfjyaRXsTgL8KAwJpx2FrL5hB2x4vjEjxQrMrB-Apeqxe7jW6Ao_5snonDAW92f81XkexU3o66kZAZ5VW8B1KR4gstmxlKFtJBGQDFTU4tqr9ce/s400/DSCN3469.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad ready to dive into his cake from his employees back home in Iowa.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Rt_mSktO8LHljieU3x7Pjcl0hwvU3SFWadIVKYx9jHaS5KYNhP-Y5TAQWn6Nqvlna85-UqXqRi_TaE0XfNQBXKFmqbfOaMX3hufCEEhUtUyOv9hoABYvNS9XXq5owGco-XNrB8ce37fu/s1600/DSCN3462.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Rt_mSktO8LHljieU3x7Pjcl0hwvU3SFWadIVKYx9jHaS5KYNhP-Y5TAQWn6Nqvlna85-UqXqRi_TaE0XfNQBXKFmqbfOaMX3hufCEEhUtUyOv9hoABYvNS9XXq5owGco-XNrB8ce37fu/s400/DSCN3462.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big bunch of balloons (alliteration city!) from all of us.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzf_ZXK26ab00aPxaNqbW95qHKKLu1u9PvV1bdWGD6dV4G-AoZSrdK5v20XbGDIRnyBVowrz4hJSFShYNEmamW9bbSQ3iSBxnMxtW5ZXWFlOOvMIfrGO8jFQ17UwK8CovrV5hEZBu-7kmH/s1600/DSCN3485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzf_ZXK26ab00aPxaNqbW95qHKKLu1u9PvV1bdWGD6dV4G-AoZSrdK5v20XbGDIRnyBVowrz4hJSFShYNEmamW9bbSQ3iSBxnMxtW5ZXWFlOOvMIfrGO8jFQ17UwK8CovrV5hEZBu-7kmH/s400/DSCN3485.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and his Bob the Builder cake from the family. Chocolate with raspberry filling - YUM!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Love and Blessings to you all...hopefully next time I post I'll have pictures of mom walking, maybe even a video!<br />
<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-3667133636581533532012-08-17T15:30:00.004-05:002012-08-17T15:30:52.081-05:00No News is Not Always Good NewsIt's Friday afternoon; which means there's really no way we're going to receive our referral call this week at all. To say we're disappointed would be an understatement; yet, we know we should count ourselves lucky that <a href="http://www.holtinternational.org/">Holt</a> is even ready to be making matches for February HSTK (home studies to Korea). So, we are *trying* to "keep calm and carry on".<br />
<br />
Today on one of the Holt online forums, I saw a picture of a baby boy who had just been matched with his family on August 2nd. He was adorable and chubby and had a big tuft of black, wispy hair sticking nearly straight up on top of his head - SO CUTE! I realized that he is probably close to the same age and size as our wee one will be when we get our call - that really hit home!<br />
<br />
As much as I want to see our child's face NOW, I know that God has a perfect plan and always has. So, I try try TRY to be patient every day and not look at my phone a million times or check the online forums every quarter hour to somehow, someway discover something I didn't know 15 minutes prior. It is really difficult, but I try to remind myself that waiting for referral will probably be a thousand times easier than waiting for the EP (emigration permit) or TC (travel call). <br />
<br />
..................................................................................................................................................................<br />
<br />
<br />
Two days ago, I was heading up to mom's hospital room when I ran into Pil (pronounced Pia) who is the Korean wife of Thomas (a fellow cancer fighter who will be receiving his stem cell transplant on the same floor as mom in about a week). She had made a bunch of food, but we were late in the game and missed out on getting to try some of it.<br />
<br />
BUT, she did take a picture with me and agree to chat more about Korean culture and food when Thomas comes back for his transplant. She also shared directions on how to get to one of her favorite Korean markets; which happens to be quite close to Zion in the town of Gurnee. Mr. C and I have wanted to go there for a while now, but it's hard to coordinate a time since we are either here at the apartment caring for my sister or at the hospital caring for mom. But we are hoping someday soon we'll be able to go check it out.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyc0vVJXxmd04n-EPp7t3UgG6mVkZ4IAjqbHIRuLiP8IzyxRldkImYHcvQ-algWrdX6kU3YHBJ2ln69uu5KvtByXMnIzfPUQP6Aww57NdyIramInFDdkAV91_M9xFvdY0ktHsUVHywYmfs/s1600/DSCN3445.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyc0vVJXxmd04n-EPp7t3UgG6mVkZ4IAjqbHIRuLiP8IzyxRldkImYHcvQ-algWrdX6kU3YHBJ2ln69uu5KvtByXMnIzfPUQP6Aww57NdyIramInFDdkAV91_M9xFvdY0ktHsUVHywYmfs/s400/DSCN3445.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pil and I in the CTCA stem cell unit. Please forgive my face - I had not one drop of makeup on, and I look scary!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We are saying our prayers and crossing all our fingers and toes that this next week will bring some news of Baby C! In the meantime, God grant me patience! ;-)<br />
<br />
Love and Blessings,<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-41178370376845263542012-08-13T23:51:00.001-05:002012-08-13T23:59:48.894-05:00Foodstuffs: Bibimbap and Gluten-Free LivingNo word today on the adoption front. *insert sad face here* This is supposedly "our week". It has been taking nearly 7 months from HSTK (home study to Korea) to receive a referral in <a href="http://www.holtinternational.org/">Holt's</a> standard program. Our HSTK was Valentine's Day; so tomorrow is our 7-month mark. I am hoping against hope that we get a phone call tomorrow, but I'm also trying to remain calm and patient in case we don't hear anything tomorrow or even this week.<br />
<br />
I know God has a plan for Baby C, and I want it to be perfect; so, if I have to wait a little bit longer to know who s/he is, that's fine. I just want everything to be exactly as it should be in God's perfect plan.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, Mr. C and I have been delving into South Korean culture as much as possible. We listen to a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K-pop">K-Pop</a> station on our car's satellite radio that has been full of amazing information on not only pop music in Korea, but also current culture and trends in our child's home country (everything from clothing trends to what Koreans like to eat during the summertime and thoughts on the 2012 summer Olympics in London). It has been so fun, and many of the DJ's late at night do their shows entirely in English; which is obviously incredibly helpful.<br />
<br />
To top things off, last week I met an amazing couple here at the <a href="http://www.cancercenter.com/">CTCA</a>. The husband, who will receive a stem cell transplant soon, is a war veteran and former Green Beret who is married to a South Korean immigrant. She graciously spoke to Mr. C and I for about an hour, and she gave us some great insight into South Korean family life and how children are raised and taught in schools. She pointed out that there is a Korean market nearby the hospital that has tons of "foodstuffs" and Korean goodies for kids and adults alike.<br />
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I found most of it fascinating. There were a few things that were difficult to understand (like her obsession with weight, which seems to be an ongoing undercurrent in Korean culture - THIN is definitely "in") and her idea that boys are inherently "bad" and "prone to misbehaving" (thus needing more strict rules and regulations in family life and school); but overall, I thought she was full of good advice and really got me excited about getting back into trying to make Korean dishes again.<br />
<br />
I had already made <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bulgogi">bulgogi</a> and <i>attempted</i> to make <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Kimchi-Authentic-Pickled-Cabbage-Limited/dp/B0035GXXDM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1344917907&sr=8-1&keywords=kimchi">kimchi</a> months ago. The bulgogi turned out fabulously; the kimchi? Not so much. I adore kimchi, but mine was <i>way</i> too salty (unbearable so). Ah well, maybe next time, right?<br />
<br />
Recently, I bought Baby C this:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc8SFdnXmLIfoH_QsVx3ECfDZGuq8X9oruRoYbP7sWZR2Jeh1mnjYf7lSlxNlV4dkLJvuzoWJ5ZvWOTwyT7dsJkhqltOFoEBWN1y-caspmXbbK6V5G3_7gci5W1uyB67qnkD7QjKT2OUWq/s1600/beebimbopbook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc8SFdnXmLIfoH_QsVx3ECfDZGuq8X9oruRoYbP7sWZR2Jeh1mnjYf7lSlxNlV4dkLJvuzoWJ5ZvWOTwyT7dsJkhqltOFoEBWN1y-caspmXbbK6V5G3_7gci5W1uyB67qnkD7QjKT2OUWq/s1600/beebimbopbook.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bee-Bim-Bop-Linda-Sue-Park/dp/0547076711/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1344918119&sr=1-1&keywords=bibimbap">A book on one of Korea's most popular dishes.</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bibimbap">Bibimbap</a> translates to "mixed meal" or "mixed rice" and is one of Korea's staple dishes. It's so popular, there is even a kid's song that people sing about making it for dinner. (I tried to find a really good vid of it online, but couldn't find one I liked well enough; so, that might be in this blog's future, haha!) Mostly, it consists of a bed of rice with all sorts of julienne, stir fried vegetables, topped off with a large dollop of red chili sauce and a raw egg yolk. In short, it looks DELICIOUS. I had never even tasted it, and somehow I was craving it!<br />
<br />
I was also excited to try this recipe, because I have been going gluten-free lately. After years upon years of dealing with daily sinus issues, I had had it. I was over feeling constant sinus pressure and pain and being unable to breathe normally every, single day. My sister, M, is gluten-free; but her allergy presents itself through digestive issues. However, after doing a lot of research, I realized that gluten allergies can present themselves through sinus problems just like mine. Making bibimbap gave me an opportunity to create a dish from my child's birth country AND eat a tasty and nutritious <i>gluten-free</i> meal. <br />
<br />
So, I dove in. It was a little time consuming to shred all of the veggies just so, because we're still here at the apartment near the CTCA where mom is recovering from her stem cell transplant. This, of course, means that I don't have any of my nice cooking equipment; but it was alright. Here's the end result:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOI5kGNVcG5921x6vKNsLb0qWoz4u6O7C9z8TpclVSDu5U8fDidPhPBRv5ca34ImMEai7tBakwxjSjWVfRwWcuTWmzxFmiRqhCeGpaIkM9l_ZgTV_dM5qLh35-VI4c49JKHJbqcQSCFokg/s1600/DSCN3432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOI5kGNVcG5921x6vKNsLb0qWoz4u6O7C9z8TpclVSDu5U8fDidPhPBRv5ca34ImMEai7tBakwxjSjWVfRwWcuTWmzxFmiRqhCeGpaIkM9l_ZgTV_dM5qLh35-VI4c49JKHJbqcQSCFokg/s320/DSCN3432.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what it looked like simmering away in the pan.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHg3S6yXv1UC6BnH8HVl7o01F4nbQ0JJnFV1aZLW2oqrXK6EVtF44_gIymxMJDp__OIosFArzTskM727xdFFdcg2fdk7tfR5Fpm2LTVMvQlbOe4Ld7o-Qns7Df_t2KrX-BjlHiQ9hPWWes/s1600/DSCN3434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHg3S6yXv1UC6BnH8HVl7o01F4nbQ0JJnFV1aZLW2oqrXK6EVtF44_gIymxMJDp__OIosFArzTskM727xdFFdcg2fdk7tfR5Fpm2LTVMvQlbOe4Ld7o-Qns7Df_t2KrX-BjlHiQ9hPWWes/s320/DSCN3434.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what it looked like "bi bimmed" or "mixed up". DELISH!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Keeping with my gluten-free trend, I made a couple more recipes lately that turned out really well both of which were from <a href="http://glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com/">the Gluten Free Goddess blog</a>; which is just fantastic! I highly recommend you checking it out if you are interested in going gluten-free.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn6a0qu_nIbzN463Jh5M74e_jLsrF7wu1-A2fyVSjKNb9osi93psW3nz021bAcWKXSwk2Zx6BRSb_02jEGhBOSuM2jkvWsO-yQ7ZkMTEejMzvBK9GzDfAN2HzGXJcRwJS4daQONy8DkpIg/s1600/DSCN3442.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn6a0qu_nIbzN463Jh5M74e_jLsrF7wu1-A2fyVSjKNb9osi93psW3nz021bAcWKXSwk2Zx6BRSb_02jEGhBOSuM2jkvWsO-yQ7ZkMTEejMzvBK9GzDfAN2HzGXJcRwJS4daQONy8DkpIg/s320/DSCN3442.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lemon infused gluten-free pasta salad with fresh herbs and asparagus. (Yes, that is vegan mayo you see; I was careful to check ALL the ingredients. Gluten can hide in the most unassuming of places!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifF8JzAFvrHFof1Xod8BRdDPuo8EOQWy5xUI_emW6X2DgDXvpttMWzTWYhAZJSfxtjD54OUAPULwkx8tS4upD8D9JybNjTXLG0hKx4CbGSM2tJq_AMJgbApd-ma-jr0EhJI1Rcg_3ipW4z/s1600/DSCN3443.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifF8JzAFvrHFof1Xod8BRdDPuo8EOQWy5xUI_emW6X2DgDXvpttMWzTWYhAZJSfxtjD54OUAPULwkx8tS4upD8D9JybNjTXLG0hKx4CbGSM2tJq_AMJgbApd-ma-jr0EhJI1Rcg_3ipW4z/s320/DSCN3443.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gluten-free cherry crisp.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
AND, we found out that one of our favorite pizza places near the apartment makes a gluten-free crust!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeO8qPK3xHLmp-AU7rid4sCoD5C6OX61kGfd5Sa4_qLfUxjAJxJV-Nr7RMJc0SIyk4pqlYVdub8Zz0t58Vaww8GEuQYWPb08yQRgZdeFT-nh9RaRZOvUHI8hEoH0qNQVm1JroAsl-WUCMN/s1600/DSCN3440.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeO8qPK3xHLmp-AU7rid4sCoD5C6OX61kGfd5Sa4_qLfUxjAJxJV-Nr7RMJc0SIyk4pqlYVdub8Zz0t58Vaww8GEuQYWPb08yQRgZdeFT-nh9RaRZOvUHI8hEoH0qNQVm1JroAsl-WUCMN/s320/DSCN3440.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Half garlic, half pepperoni gluten-free pizza from <a href="http://www.jimanos.com/">Jimano's PIzzeria</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
My adventures in the world of gluten-free baking and cooking have only just begun. Yes, it is a little more difficult - you definitely have to be more diligent and mindful; but it is worth it to feel so much better. I'm sure I will be blogging about fun and tasty gluten-free recipes with you all in the future.<br />
<br />
I'm so incredibly tired right now; I feel as though I'm in a daze. Thanks for hanging in there with me, because I'm sure this post has been scattered, and I apologize for that. Between the adoption, my sister having several seizures the past few weeks, and being at the hospital for hours at a time with my mom every day, I sometimes feel as though I'm losing my mind. But, I know God is giving me strength and keeping us all on the right path toward restoration and a new life of happiness, health, hope, love, and JOY.<br />
<br />
Take care, wherever you may be in this world. Be well, be blessed, be LOVE.<br />
<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-60818211509568802972012-08-09T23:51:00.003-05:002012-08-09T23:51:39.638-05:00I Can't Make My Phone Ring by Looking at It (a lack of patience story)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4s4MYtpsUU5CH1kF2dWInwQWizHV8ZSMPIiNzPRYm_012TakF4a_IfMhvRKlnAzF-9KZ0RZYTEuq1v7QCQ5UEtGVCg4GWt7Z83QCMu6iViiNjebsGkSjl7cyJEOKdR9wAmIAgVFD-N0GM/s1600/hanjapatienceperseveranceorientaloutpost.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4s4MYtpsUU5CH1kF2dWInwQWizHV8ZSMPIiNzPRYm_012TakF4a_IfMhvRKlnAzF-9KZ0RZYTEuq1v7QCQ5UEtGVCg4GWt7Z83QCMu6iViiNjebsGkSjl7cyJEOKdR9wAmIAgVFD-N0GM/s400/hanjapatienceperseveranceorientaloutpost.jpg" width="203" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Korean hanja for "patience/perseverance". Photo courtesy of <a href="http://www.orientaloutpost.com/">Oriental Outpost</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
They shouldn't have said a word; because, honestly, now I'm more obsessed than ever.<br />
<br />
It's true.<br />
<br />
<b><i>Last week, Mr. C and I were informed that all of the home studies sent to Korea in January 2012 had been matched; which means we are NEXT in line to receive our referral! AHHHHHHHH!!!!!</i></b><br />
<br />
Although our home study was technically done in January, a few more pieces of paper were needed and then it all had to be translated; which meant that HSTK (or "home study to Korea") wasn't sent until Valentine's Day. Being the sap that I am, though, I'm okay with this; because, really, could the date be any more significant? Valentine's Day is also a huge holiday in South Korea; so that made it all the more poignant for us.<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i> </i>As exciting as this time is for us, I am learning just how fundamentally flawed my patience factor really is. Essentially, I have none. I also realize that this is only the beginning of the wait for us, really; however, there is something that comforts me in knowing WHO I will be waiting for - or maybe not...we'll see how deep the crazy gets in a few months!<br />
<br />
For the time being I check my phone a million times per day, and check the online <a href="http://www.holtinternational.org/">Holt</a> Korea forums every hour on the hour (if I can). I know that all of this checking and re-checking won't make things happen faster or even at all.<br />
<br />
<b><i>I cannot make my phone ring by looking at it.</i></b> <br />
<br />
However, it gives me a sick sense of comfort to know that I'm at least doing <i>something</i>, even if it's not actually productive or relevant to the outcome.<br />
<br />
Truthfully, as incredible, amazing, wonderful, fantastic it is to know that our referral call is only days or weeks away, it's even more mind-boggling to fully grasp the fact that a referral call can't come without <i>being matched with a child. </i>Meaning, <b><i>our son or daughter is born - alive and breathing and crying and smiling and sleeping and blinking half a world away - they are REAL! </i></b><br />
<br />
This isn't a mere fantasy or figment of our imaginations; there is an actual, FACTUAL baby that is OURS in this world RIGHT THIS MOMENT. We haven't received the call yet; but really, <i>we're already parents</i>! I could just burst into tears; this is amazing! <br />
<br />
Who knew that we would be here after so much heartache and pain?! Who knew my heart could feel this fulfilled and content? Who knew my soul would be bursting with so much joy and hope? God knew. He has answered the desires of my heart. And I cannot WAIT to lay my eyes on our sweet, little baby!<br />
<br />
On a quasi-sidenote, we were also told that there is still a good chance that we could receive a referral of a girl; which took us back, because at first we had been told to expect a boy and only a boy. So, if it ends up being a girl, we're going to have a lot of boy's clothes/toys/etc. to put aside for later! Either way, we will be more than delighted!<br />
<br />
I hope that the next post I write will be telling you dear readers about OUR CHILD; but in the meantime, be love, be well, be blessed!<br />
<br />
LOVE LOVE LOVE,<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-46133268605557619342012-08-06T17:58:00.001-05:002012-08-07T00:16:20.469-05:00Pictures from the Cancer Battlefield, Part 15: Adventures in respiratory failure, TTP, plasmaphereis, and dialysis (and VICTORY OVER THEM ALL!)As I looked back on this blog, I realized that I have written very little lately; and even worse, I've written NO updates on mom's cancer treatment journey since her transplant on May 24th and 25th - oooops!<br />
<br />
When I think about having to sum up everything that's occurred since that time, my mind is completely overwhelmed. In short, my mom has encountered EVERY set-back that can possibly occur after a stem cell transplant. From respiratory failure to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thrombotic_thrombocytopenic_purpura">TTP</a> to kidney failure and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Graft-versus-host_disease">GvHD</a> - mom's experienced it all.<br />
<br />
Instead of attempting to put all of these experiences into words, I think I will let the pictures do what they do best: the talking.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-vq2rs8eJ0aTC6Wq1rehgRKCB1OnskY_Da_j9tRdIb-1ZZqewYbDbU8S0yT0RQ8LVuYWnwsfhrHIj9E8Vt3XqDZydNx8inYPSe9ECCYfA2CizBk6mQ_Ae5BidqGG1PFS5woPzAS6uC3p/s1600/DSCN3321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-vq2rs8eJ0aTC6Wq1rehgRKCB1OnskY_Da_j9tRdIb-1ZZqewYbDbU8S0yT0RQ8LVuYWnwsfhrHIj9E8Vt3XqDZydNx8inYPSe9ECCYfA2CizBk6mQ_Ae5BidqGG1PFS5woPzAS6uC3p/s400/DSCN3321.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom hooked up to respiratory machines that helped keep her breathing when the fluid build up made it too difficult for her body to keep up.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Not long after mom's transplant, we started to notice that she was retaining fluid - A LOT of fluid. In the span of about a week or so, she put on 30+ pounds of fluid. As you might guess, this is extremely hard on the organs, especially the kidneys whose job it is to flush said fluid out of the body. It was just too much for her kidneys. They could not keep up, and the fluid continued to pile on.<br />
<br />
Within the span of 12-24 hours, mom went into respiratory distress and respiratory failure. The fluid build-up around her lungs was just too much; she couldn't breathe. She was hooked to machines to keep her breathing (see picture above) and was very groggy. I'm sure she remembers nothing from this time, and I think I only spoke to her once. Her body was in too much distress to keep her awake for frivolous things like talking.<br />
<br />
We discovered that her new stem cells (from her donor), had gone into work overload once inside her body. In fact, they worked a little "too well", if you can believe it. Once in mom's body, her new stem cells didn't like what they saw; they saw trauma and tiny, parts-per-million leukemia cells and they went ballistic! <b> </b><br />
<br />
<b> (I should interject here that it is good that they attacked the last parts per million leukemia cells. This is called graft vs. leukemia, and it is when the new/donor leukocytes attack any residual cancer cells and obliterate them. Mom's new cells did just that. She is completely cancer free!)</b><br />
<br />
In an attempt to save their new "home" (ie: mom's body), they went into over-drive building up fluid around all her vital organs in an attempt to protect them from the enemy that they could not see or understand. It was self-preservation - these new cells wanted to LIVE, and they were going to do whatever it took to survive. How could they have known that they're attempts to live would inadvertently nearly kill them?<br />
<br />
After a couple of days, mom's kidneys began working and got enough fluid off that she could breathe on her own without the respiratory machines. It was such a relief; we were all so grateful.<br />
<br />
But, things didn't seem to get better fast enough or even very much at all. Something was wrong, but we didn't know what...yet.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KqyUMo56jfLQgORKf2ZRIL40DSKgfpKyGCpqbnwJ59HQC2y65YsVNtGJk113PYFDQBBmN4YKj73xCbDLAA9SXBq9_YXS3Zk8fHiHin-sZra7LsD6wer8qHvVnLC_oGQNwLfJjefVINeB/s1600/DSCN3360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KqyUMo56jfLQgORKf2ZRIL40DSKgfpKyGCpqbnwJ59HQC2y65YsVNtGJk113PYFDQBBmN4YKj73xCbDLAA9SXBq9_YXS3Zk8fHiHin-sZra7LsD6wer8qHvVnLC_oGQNwLfJjefVINeB/s400/DSCN3360.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We celebrated Father's Day with dad in mom's hospital room. This was the leather and diamond bracelet we girls got him. Mr. C was, sadly, off working on a computer system; but we Skyped later that day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtyu3gQSq7qUalJ2GYM9XTryWFUWia7CSpMDmL_WadFVP7o5-7mPF6aEnLFMZ0oqbyTbD5lCb7a1-H66u3ZvH0es8NDrGnoVxtgR3JMA_K01ADF6m28wfgIVqYcih4FDwV4wEgUIrwpLEi/s1600/DSCN3330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtyu3gQSq7qUalJ2GYM9XTryWFUWia7CSpMDmL_WadFVP7o5-7mPF6aEnLFMZ0oqbyTbD5lCb7a1-H66u3ZvH0es8NDrGnoVxtgR3JMA_K01ADF6m28wfgIVqYcih4FDwV4wEgUIrwpLEi/s400/DSCN3330.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We said good-bye to, Debi, one of mom's night nurses who switched to working days down in radiology. She gave mom those yellow pom-poms, because "she was mom's cheerleader". :-)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And then mom wasn't feeling well - AT ALL. Mr. C was back from working in Iowa, and dad and my sisters were all gone when I got a phone call one morning that I needed to hurry over to the hospital NOW. Since Mr. C and I usually came around lunch and stayed until midnight or later, I was worried; they wouldn't call me for no reason, especially knowing that I'm ALWAYS there at least by noon.<br />
<br />
I was in a panic. I threw my clothes on and rushed to the hospital. When we got to the stem cell in-patient ward, I was handed a phone, and one of mom's doctors was on the line. He told me mom had <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thrombotic_thrombocytopenic_purpura">Thrombotic Thrombocytopenic Purpura</a> or TTP; a rare blood condition that causes tiny clots all throughout the vascular system. Mom's was caused by her body reacting to her anti-rejection medication - again, a VERY rare side-effect. <b> Left untreated it is fatal in 90% of cases.</b> Needless to say, I was terrified; and because my dad was gone, I was her next of kin and had to sign all of her consent papers for her procedures since she was too groggy mentally to be deemed fit to have her own best interests in mind. <i> Oh joy. </i>It reminded me of when my sister, W, had too many seizures in a row one December; and I had to act of her next of kin as she lay in a hospital room unconscious - bad memories.<br />
<br />
Before I knew it, a surgeon was on the stem cell floor ready to insert a catheter into mom's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Femoral_artery">femoral artery</a> so they could <i>immediately </i>begin the treatment for the TTP. One of mom's nurses and I stayed by mom's head (face masked, hands gloved, and body clothed in a plastic gown), holding her hand, caressing her head, and trying to soothe her with reassuring whispers as the surgeon set up a make-shift sterile field and sliced into her groin - there wasn't time for good pain meds; so, a local poke of lidocaine was all she got.<br />
<br />
Once inserted, the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plasmapheresis">plasmapheresis</a> began:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVF40k5EYmVdRHHxtgW8tneH4PDwx3ylF44fDrWwHhxcFWDlbgiHeAmH3PuS3JvgGf6vU05L3Rsv0wSZBsVk5AGH_4UVtaKcgJCA5dZw0osqcxuGAO8QvC8apHSYfWUw02i630AmVduxHn/s1600/DSCN3375.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVF40k5EYmVdRHHxtgW8tneH4PDwx3ylF44fDrWwHhxcFWDlbgiHeAmH3PuS3JvgGf6vU05L3Rsv0wSZBsVk5AGH_4UVtaKcgJCA5dZw0osqcxuGAO8QvC8apHSYfWUw02i630AmVduxHn/s400/DSCN3375.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom's FABULOUS technician, Rene, hooking her up to the plasmapheresis machine. We saw him every day for 16 days straight.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Plasmapheresis can be likened to dialysis in a sense. The process essentially pulls the blood from the patient's body and into a machine that centrifuges out the plasma (which contains the "bad stuff" - very technical, I know!) while at the same time replacing said plasma with clean, donor plasma in the exact, same amount.<br />
<br />
It can take days or even weeks of daily plasmapheresis to get all of the unclean plasma out of the patient's blood system. Mom had about 16-18 treatments total. She would get very cold during the process; which can happen since the donor plasma has to be kept on ice to keep it "fresh" for the procedure. So, Rene and I would wrap mom up like a burrito in heated blankets from the ICU Pixus station and fleece blankets from stem cell as well as a knit hat to keep her from freezing.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg686KhiJPirU5Y9JEXcexC8Yn0XcxcC41jLmu8aI_nVQfL6VjF-vn-jmbr_3B1YFS-r5GFBM6KSCDSedNh5tQdtgTIFP0FLnxkaUVI7h4D7Dsft4Mt0lh1QZFlTWrwXzyPLP-fkyPcFr9h/s1600/DSCN3379.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg686KhiJPirU5Y9JEXcexC8Yn0XcxcC41jLmu8aI_nVQfL6VjF-vn-jmbr_3B1YFS-r5GFBM6KSCDSedNh5tQdtgTIFP0FLnxkaUVI7h4D7Dsft4Mt0lh1QZFlTWrwXzyPLP-fkyPcFr9h/s400/DSCN3379.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A photo of the plasmapheresis machine. You can see the old, nasty plasma that was pulled from mom in the large bag toward the upper-middle of the shot. It is the color of muddy creek water - clean plasma is roughly the color of creamed corn and slightly translucent. As you can see, mom's was in bad shape.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
All this while, mom was also suffering from a mild case of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Graft-versus-host_disease">graft vs. host disease</a> or GvHD in her esophagus, stomach, and intestinal tract. While mild (level one), it still made it difficult for her to swallow anything (even pills and water) and keep anything down. So, she had been put on a high dose of steroids (protocol for treating GvHD).<br />
<br />
In their usual fashion, they were exacerbating mom's fluid retention and kidney issues. At the worst of it, her kidneys were only functioning at 5% of their ability - obviously not good. So, the nephrology team here at <a href="http://www.cancercenter.com/">CTCA</a> decided that while she already had the catheter in her femoral artery, they would go ahead and do dialysis after EVERY session of plasmapheresis. This is tough on the body and mind, but it was necessary; so, we hunkered down to try to support mom as the emotions ran high and the appetite, mood, and hopefulness ran low.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVa3Oua1-GTbMsCDjBX4ylj8ORZmPJCO6X68K4XK9CVeyNTiZE6CHKPrtZhkPje-UZtKVDkZk4MlMGZsCxyA36PsyQVxqoeOdu3I3K0Ie_tR_qPb9_-Ri7R062DHnHeoToel74cLqsx4mR/s1600/DSCN3381.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVa3Oua1-GTbMsCDjBX4ylj8ORZmPJCO6X68K4XK9CVeyNTiZE6CHKPrtZhkPje-UZtKVDkZk4MlMGZsCxyA36PsyQVxqoeOdu3I3K0Ie_tR_qPb9_-Ri7R062DHnHeoToel74cLqsx4mR/s400/DSCN3381.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom receiving kidney dialysis. She would receive Xanax to keep her calm and an eye mask to block out the light; so she could try to sleep through the procedure.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The plasmapheresis and dialysis continued for nearly three weeks. Mom had lost her appetite after transplant and was now only getting nutrients (as well as her fluids and medication) via her <a href="http://picclinenursing.com/picc_why.html">picc line</a>. She couldn't walk, because the fluid build-up had weakened her leg muscles terribly and her fluid-filled feet hurt to stand upon. Her kidneys would work, then play a mean, little game where they wouldn't work so well. Then, her platelets (the last blood product to be created by the body, thus the last to show real signs of improvement after transplant) would drop frighteningly low only to jump back to a decent level a day or two later - needless to say, we were all emotionally exhausted by the roller-coaster that is life after stem cell transplant.<br />
<br />
All the while, mom was being lifted up in prayer by faithful friends both at home and here at the CTCA (far too many to even mention) and remembered in gifts and cards (they mean SO MUCH to us all!). Slowly but surely, every prayer was answered; often just in the nick of time. I'd always heard, "God is never late, but always on time."; but I had no clue just how true that statement is until living out these "100 days" with mom. He has <i>always</i> followed through on His promises; and He has <i>never</i> let us down - AMEN! What a wonderful daddy-God we have!<br />
<br />
After more than two weeks of plasmapheresis and dialysis and a couple more weeks of <a href="http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/druginfo/meds/a601166.html">TPN</a> mom was beginning to feel better - A LOT better! Her appetite began to come back after not eating any solid food for nearly two months. She now eats three small meals a day plus two or three snacks. She began doing PT (physical therapy) from her bed, and she can now pull herself up, sit up, stretch/move her legs in bed, and stand while stretching from side to side. She hasn't walked yet, but she's getting there!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICGQ8fCB97OMkBuKxILYPB-nbru3QRmUkbANdLMorCg258YgewbLUGvpZ_u0YhXkkQuC2WbSrlBWAmbYKThU1gzHtGTgw7LPhQV75IAoSfvsICkSNLZGQf5ONV2sLA_HkElS1laBQlfKa/s1600/DSCN3396.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICGQ8fCB97OMkBuKxILYPB-nbru3QRmUkbANdLMorCg258YgewbLUGvpZ_u0YhXkkQuC2WbSrlBWAmbYKThU1gzHtGTgw7LPhQV75IAoSfvsICkSNLZGQf5ONV2sLA_HkElS1laBQlfKa/s400/DSCN3396.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Physical therapy machine that helps hold mom up so she can work on building leg strength by standing while supported.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Today, I am pleased to say that her kidney function is at 25% and rising! She's doing so well that her femoral artery catheter was <b>REMOVED</b> today! HOORAY! No more dialysis for mom! Believe me, she was over the moon about that news.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, she and dad celebrated their 34th wedding anniversary:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCDoQOAlMedsAcRGUUYzN5dc3RlSLGJFMlY0MePXZeKdYOkm0O1Gp7I9G7yUvStildTbPif5oYyc30KCv-Lu5c3izBS99vsGVbpXHmnHXYewnGMquAx5nsPGx6-G5yxmhgOZErVAm_hRk/s1600/DSCN3402.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCDoQOAlMedsAcRGUUYzN5dc3RlSLGJFMlY0MePXZeKdYOkm0O1Gp7I9G7yUvStildTbPif5oYyc30KCv-Lu5c3izBS99vsGVbpXHmnHXYewnGMquAx5nsPGx6-G5yxmhgOZErVAm_hRk/s400/DSCN3402.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and dad - 34 years strong!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We shared cake (as we always do during celebrations) with the 2nd and 4th floor stem cell units:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_w1LRIAa7KqpfsWaAt5KpG_CeZbJPR65yY_CMI9OTyoPptsbzjO9Q1_2SsN_kUXGI1mvox0HubI93rO9AoCrj0MLF05HKOzuSztPFdFYFaNK9HgtakV1E2Lhp2ecFR_VJRwjj0OzCiuNS/s1600/DSCN3401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_w1LRIAa7KqpfsWaAt5KpG_CeZbJPR65yY_CMI9OTyoPptsbzjO9Q1_2SsN_kUXGI1mvox0HubI93rO9AoCrj0MLF05HKOzuSztPFdFYFaNK9HgtakV1E2Lhp2ecFR_VJRwjj0OzCiuNS/s400/DSCN3401.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White cake with mom and dad's wedding colors (purple and yellow) on left; peanut butter passion cake (SO GOOD) on right from our favorite local shop <a href="http://www.cakeboxbakeryandcafe.com/">Cake Box Bakery</a>.</td></tr>
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<br />
So, how's that for an update?! It was a long time coming, that's for sure and certain. Every day is better than the last. Mom's 100th day is September 1st, and believe it or not we are still on track to be out by that time. This journey has reminded me over and over again that He cares for us, He wants us well, He is fervent and furious in His love and desire for us to be healthy/happy/whole, He IS the great physician, and He adores His children (which is ALL of us, every, single, person on Earth, in case you didn't know). For all we've been through, we have been seen through - relatively unscathed, really. How <i>blessed</i> are we?!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPVJF3bbU7SERFH4Ko1zUD5y4e9XY0UHj20V_tyBBmloULbjqD11pk0ncFD1SBJVC5k5KFC6U_uCjbZt7taIM-3BF5X4vzEocUDSKsD5CXNaM7V99uPPFMqqh-r_ulozxMuRB-poIG8U7/s1600/DSCN3418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPVJF3bbU7SERFH4Ko1zUD5y4e9XY0UHj20V_tyBBmloULbjqD11pk0ncFD1SBJVC5k5KFC6U_uCjbZt7taIM-3BF5X4vzEocUDSKsD5CXNaM7V99uPPFMqqh-r_ulozxMuRB-poIG8U7/s400/DSCN3418.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L-R: Mr. C, me, dad, mom, and W on mom and dad's anniversary - see, we're <i>still</i> smiling!</td></tr>
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I wish you, wherever you are in this world so much health, happiness, hope, and laughter. I hope your soul is light and your burdens too. I pray the desires of your heart are flowing towards you as your troubles are whisked away. I hope you have more reasons to smile than cry. Most of all, I wish you all the love in the universe!<br />
<br />
Blessings Blessings and MORE Blessings,<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-11929066908183508712012-07-19T23:27:00.001-05:002012-07-19T23:27:18.879-05:00"The Red Tide Rolleth" and a Diva Cup ReviewSo we had a little..........."pregnancy scare" this past week. I know, I know, calling it a <i>pregnancy <b>sca</b></i><i><b>re</b></i><i style="background-color: white;"> </i><span style="background-color: white;">after sooooo many years of TTC (and failing) seems completely ridiculous and even kind of awful; but </span><a href="http://www.holtinternational.org/" style="background-color: white;">Holt's</a><span style="background-color: white;"> rules are that a <b>biological pregnancy results in instant loss of referral.</b> There are ways to petition this if you already </span><i style="background-color: white;">have</i><span style="background-color: white;"> your referral; but since we do not, I think it's safe to say that we would have been forced to give up the adoption.</span><br />
<br />
I know to many people (especially those facing or who have faced infertility) it sounds strange to be worried about a bio pregnancy over-ruling an adoption; but to Mr. C and I, adoption is not a second-rate consolation prize. It's a way to build our family that we would have chosen whether or not we had ever faced IF. So, the thought of a pregnancy was incredibly bittersweet.<br />
<br />
My cycles had been completely <i>perfect, 28-day cycles</i> ever since I completed my <a href="http://blog.tolovearose.com/2011/06/acupuncture-ticky-tacky.html">acupuncture</a> and <a href="http://blog.tolovearose.com/2011/08/traditional-chinese-herbs-for-pcos-from.html">traditional Chinese medicine for PCOS</a> last fall; so, you can imagine my surprise when I was <i>LATE</i> for my period this cycle! I waited a whole week before I <a href="http://www.peeonastick.com/">POAS</a> - it was <i>negative</i>, of course...<br />
<br />
While I wasn't expecting it to be positive, there was something terrible about looking at that blank, stark-white space on the test. A flood of emotions came back to me; but surprisingly enough, I did not burst into hot, ugly tears the way I used to when we were actively TTC over a year ago (can you believe it's been <i>that long already?!</i>). Instead, I knew that no matter the outcome I was <i>still</i> going to be a mother...one way or another...and that was incredibly consoling.<br />
<br />
Anyway, by some cruel joke of Mother Nature's, my period was 12 days late! Yeeeaaahhh. By the end, I had taken 2 pregnancy tests and was virtually losing my mind! I had very little cramping until the day before (when I KNEW AF was finally on her way); so, the entire (nearly) two weeks of waiting was nerve-wrecking to say the least. <br />
<br />
I was imagining the angry back-lash from our agency if I had to tell them we were pregnant. For some reason, I was just <i>certain</i> they would be as upset as the parents of a girl from "16 and Pregnant" would be upon hearing such news. I'm not really sure why I thought this, other than our social worker, J, had warned us fairly sternly to NOT get preggo if we wanted this adoption to work out. So, I lived on eggshells analyzing every twitch and twinge my body made.<br />
<br />
Finally, <i>twelve days past day 28</i>, AF arrived in all her cramping, anxiety-riddled glory. Again, slightly bittersweet; but mostly I just felt relief. I am SO looking forward to being Baby C's mommy...I cannot imagine our first born coming to us any other way now than via the heart (as opposed to the womb).<br />
<br />
Hardly anyone knew of this little "fright"; but my dear friend C was privy to my worries. Today, I texted her simply "the red tide rolleth" with a smiley face. I know she felt a mixture of relief and pain for us...just as we felt for ourselves; but in all honesty I know I speak for both of us when I say we are more relieved than sad today. Truthfully. :-)<br />
<br />
<b>ALSO</b>, I was really excited to use my new purchase:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYq2d_0sjXgFzNhGqP0o8HNZVRi964sTEjAVMaufx75OlSp-0xoU4RWgJu3ID-vFGROgXaUuTid_d7dIuTkz_zR5_ZbfPJrmQk-npWNY7yjEFN8FqNG9a9fIbH2HnvMHQB0LnhBLD0U7P9/s1600/divacup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYq2d_0sjXgFzNhGqP0o8HNZVRi964sTEjAVMaufx75OlSp-0xoU4RWgJu3ID-vFGROgXaUuTid_d7dIuTkz_zR5_ZbfPJrmQk-npWNY7yjEFN8FqNG9a9fIbH2HnvMHQB0LnhBLD0U7P9/s400/divacup.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Diva-Cup-Model-1-Pre-Childbirth/dp/B000FAG6X0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1342756743&sr=8-1&keywords=diva+cup">Diva Cup, Model #1 (pre-childbirth)</a></td></tr>
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That, my friends, is a <a href="http://divacup.com/">Diva Cup</a> menstrual cup. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's essentially a little, silicone "cup" that replaces a traditional tampon during your menstrual cycle.<br />
<br />
The cotton in tampons (unless an all-natural brand) are subject to bleaching and all sorts of <i>nasty</i> chemicals that we women, in turn, place in our most delicate of places for long periods (no pun intended) of time. NOT good. Also, the amount of waste created by throwing these feminine products into the trash is immense, especially when looked at in the span of a woman's entire lifetime. A reusable menstrual cup like the Diva Cup is better for women AND the environment!<br />
<br />
I'm not going to lie, it takes a bit of getting used to at first. The cup itself can fit in the palm of my hand (and I have small hands); so, it's not as intimidating as it sounds. The silicone it's made of is also incredibly soft and malleable. When inserting, you merely fold the cup in half (again, it's VERY pliable) and place it in as you would a tampon sans applicator. There is a very small stem attached to the bottom of the cup that helps in the insertion and removal process. Some women have said they snip this off for added comfort, but I found that once inserted, I don't even feel it. I also think that (for me, anyway) it <i>greatly</i> aids in the removal process especially.<br />
<br />
So far, I have worn it yesterday afternoon, all last night, and all of today and night (it is 11:15 pm as I write this now). I am <i>extremely</i> pleased with my purchase! I have only had one problem with leakage in my limited amount of experience time; but I feel confident it was because I had actually not checked the cup in the proper amount of time, and I literally over-flowed the 1/2 ounce cup. It's so comfortable, I really forgot that I even had it in and needed to check it - whoops! <span style="background-color: white;">Last night, I was certain it would be too uncomfortable to wear all night; but whether sitting, standing, or lying down I simply cannot feel the cup at all. So, I wore it all night without any issues.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">I have also changed it in a public bathroom stall (something I had thought would be strange and difficult to maneuver for some reason). If you can't get to sink to fully rinse your cup out, it's equally as sufficient to wipe it out/off with toilet tissue and re-insert. Again, I had thought this could be awkward and down-right yucky; but it was really no big deal.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
Each time I go through the process of removing/cleaning/re-inserting, I get faster and more confident. In short, I am <b>delighted</b> with my purchase! And, if you order from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/">Amazon</a>, you can get a price that is at least a few dollars off the regular price I saw everywhere else online. Double delight!<br />
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This post has been a little random (and way overdue, by the way! sorry about the general lack of writing lately, dear readers!); but I hope that at least the Diva Cup part was informative. :-)<br />
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Have a beautiful, restful night, my lovelies!<br />
*mandie*<br />
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<br />*Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-47994645193906951822012-06-17T12:52:00.002-05:002012-06-17T12:52:37.908-05:00A Truly Happy Father's DayHappy Father's Day to all you dads out there! Thanks for the strength and guidance and protection and hope and love and nurturing you rain down upon kiddos everywhere! Dads are so important, and sometimes in this mommy-centric world, I think we tend to forget just how big your roles really are to the children you love and love you back. <br />
<br />
You are the rising sun. You are the hero. You are the safety zone. You are the ladder. You are the compass. Without you, there is an unavoidable whole in a little one's heart.<br />
<br />
So, thank you to all of you dads out there who didn't run, who are proud and stand tall and take initiative and look foolish with love for your kids or those you love like your own kids. You make me smile and give me hope for the future.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggWuIYjNzdxDM2rgBhTEYLJI5gYxFk4JNtrLdYcEIy3fUTe3w0s1W74LEEHS3eUxVb4sSGHdCKcdemBbaAr3ASMPM-nvixQx1PTt4yrvYlUGYCMXE_nUeCIlfr1tqxtjQLIbzqZqzegiQo/s1600/DSCN2832.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggWuIYjNzdxDM2rgBhTEYLJI5gYxFk4JNtrLdYcEIy3fUTe3w0s1W74LEEHS3eUxVb4sSGHdCKcdemBbaAr3ASMPM-nvixQx1PTt4yrvYlUGYCMXE_nUeCIlfr1tqxtjQLIbzqZqzegiQo/s320/DSCN2832.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
And <b>HAPPY FATHER'S DAY</b> to the two very special men above (sorry, they never pose for a proper picture, argh!) - my dad and Mr. C.<br />
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No matter how far-fetched and wild our dreams, my father has <i>always</i> supported what my sisters and I have reached for in our lives. He has been a constant source of guidance and is one of our biggest cheerleaders. He has always expected a lot from us in every aspect of our lives, but has been the first to be forgiving and instructive when we've messed up or gotten off track. I am so blessed to have him in my life.<br />
<br />
Mr. C is the kindest person I know; he is always thinking about others. His beautiful heart is most definitely going to make him an excellent father to Baby C; this is one lucky kiddo! It's hard to believe as I write this, but this is our LAST Father's Day without our wee one (at least, without knowing who they are, etc.). I cannot wait to see Mr. C embrace daddyhood; he's going to be a natural.<br />
<br />
<3,<br />
*m**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-66783410707495723182012-06-15T22:13:00.002-05:002012-06-15T23:25:32.996-05:00Yellow/Turquoise/Black and White Nursery UpdateWhile Mr. C and I were home for two weeks back in April/May before mom's transplant, we did our best to add some things to Baby C's nursery. It's hard for me at times, because I feel as though our entire planning process has been entirely muddled and our energies (obviously) spent in other areas.<br />
<br />
I had an idea that this nursery was going to be amazing, bright, modern, and fun - a complete sanctuary of pure kid pleasure that any little one would LOVE spending time exploring and creating in. But since we've been so back and forth, it hasn't really worked out like that.<br />
<br />
We are both really looking forward to being able to devote some real time and energy to the decor in this room. In the meantime, here's a look at what we got done while home last time.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip4MBttplB-pcTrDiUvgx_GANqNvARh3-WgRc-hu5KYdAJy3PeP1ZDZ9QF37QV9lhxcQQq3ohd60Rpuschk44LImJ8KJGDbnbGEq0DEiFay2TgmhZ6gYjg6ckXsArCt7rNifJ2iQ31-Eto/s1600/DSCN3039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip4MBttplB-pcTrDiUvgx_GANqNvARh3-WgRc-hu5KYdAJy3PeP1ZDZ9QF37QV9lhxcQQq3ohd60Rpuschk44LImJ8KJGDbnbGEq0DEiFay2TgmhZ6gYjg6ckXsArCt7rNifJ2iQ31-Eto/s320/DSCN3039.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We added the little book/toy shelf, but soon we are adding a whole wall of book shelves; so it will soon hold only toys. The soft "tubs" are in bright teal; although on here it looks like a darker blue.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-tkpXwUmgSq7XKrp7SbMMRS1aOScyKzp4UefMeaY9uH_DtQExk5rgBs8EX9jMOKdkG10-ZYHOik4wfTdRTm4ZXqbua0MCs9DJoAVZhhXeTpcaKFddu3ss31-iuBrao7D5aa83x6e0bS2l/s1600/DSCN3040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-tkpXwUmgSq7XKrp7SbMMRS1aOScyKzp4UefMeaY9uH_DtQExk5rgBs8EX9jMOKdkG10-ZYHOik4wfTdRTm4ZXqbua0MCs9DJoAVZhhXeTpcaKFddu3ss31-iuBrao7D5aa83x6e0bS2l/s320/DSCN3040.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "Alphabet City" print won't stay perched on top of the shelves, but will be hung above it. I just wanted to get an idea of what it would look like.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsqJsVliQHogVNClCWxH8Uo0RZl5PO8bSkZ8jpBJu4yWbvyDqnQ8Ck2mX75mxJVXGEgbdzVcEfJzeZronFigu77BN-CfcRKLJU8SnwSy_TXB2hyphenhyphenS6IWPFZh3dXeyQhOe2gUcCeZXJ8Sx-k/s1600/DSCN3041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsqJsVliQHogVNClCWxH8Uo0RZl5PO8bSkZ8jpBJu4yWbvyDqnQ8Ck2mX75mxJVXGEgbdzVcEfJzeZronFigu77BN-CfcRKLJU8SnwSy_TXB2hyphenhyphenS6IWPFZh3dXeyQhOe2gUcCeZXJ8Sx-k/s320/DSCN3041.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trying to decide whether to put this wall decal on the kiddos' level below the window or not. It says, "In my world, everyone's a pony; and they all eat rainbows and poop butterflies. -Dr. Suess". We LOVE it!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpZrVHA-r77HKobA1QIWBn5yq-YIT02x3LCJzpBY1qVbnK2QzyG4hpnIxGz_s7FxT19HqqSQtKyl4vRBcEAEHnOrwXPFvjMApqI99RuUqe55Met2z0zTk0TCSfemme7QeH9baK-REg5y3e/s1600/DSCN3043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpZrVHA-r77HKobA1QIWBn5yq-YIT02x3LCJzpBY1qVbnK2QzyG4hpnIxGz_s7FxT19HqqSQtKyl4vRBcEAEHnOrwXPFvjMApqI99RuUqe55Met2z0zTk0TCSfemme7QeH9baK-REg5y3e/s320/DSCN3043.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some random artwork that we are going to hang on the wall above the changing table/dresser.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvDFP-hg1WYMZPIbpHSEL4I34b7Duh_oZOQwTbZMM3CaXGfz4aZ3RglF2luPyifF1ThzSb2Ckb9ebdvYdwM-HgJS_5BAwJSMZM8mUY2FTRiOZKD6uAT-KCQf8e9Kzt-rEnrjiCAX8C0DDy/s1600/DSCN3044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvDFP-hg1WYMZPIbpHSEL4I34b7Duh_oZOQwTbZMM3CaXGfz4aZ3RglF2luPyifF1ThzSb2Ckb9ebdvYdwM-HgJS_5BAwJSMZM8mUY2FTRiOZKD6uAT-KCQf8e9Kzt-rEnrjiCAX8C0DDy/s320/DSCN3044.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Close up of two of the prints we bought from <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/handz?page=3">ReStyle Shop</a> on <a href="http://www.etsy.com/">Etsy</a>.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNgB0qbYSGLXPFUHuWDLx_ZkRbXE1GReZh0i1GtxCyur5HqP4kkc4lD7liZfwlsR7nB9xHghnRw2Wvfl2azGf1PEA9Wrp5yBHbGIc9LBeNjISGtrjmuY7svLCkuXMppx-izZn-dLhwT5zg/s1600/DSCN3046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNgB0qbYSGLXPFUHuWDLx_ZkRbXE1GReZh0i1GtxCyur5HqP4kkc4lD7liZfwlsR7nB9xHghnRw2Wvfl2azGf1PEA9Wrp5yBHbGIc9LBeNjISGtrjmuY7svLCkuXMppx-izZn-dLhwT5zg/s320/DSCN3046.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This rocker used to be mine when I was little. Can't decide whether to paint over it, or just leave it as it is and maybe put it in the living room.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UzoodabKNOT2hW0DCCWeFAcgyNkXxVUwduDorPAXbBDe2XrT8wz7b1p2O7hpkktPjZM6IDHU0fLrRydIJm_m6OBv1mUIM6CRQfHAMgQ1LyDAzkUSW2YfO1h4728nznY7KNalyMHMHp8L/s1600/DSCN3304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UzoodabKNOT2hW0DCCWeFAcgyNkXxVUwduDorPAXbBDe2XrT8wz7b1p2O7hpkktPjZM6IDHU0fLrRydIJm_m6OBv1mUIM6CRQfHAMgQ1LyDAzkUSW2YfO1h4728nznY7KNalyMHMHp8L/s320/DSCN3304.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I designed this for Desmond's (Baby C) nursery a while ago. Mr. C did the hard work of interpreting my basic sketches into a true work of art; then, we had it printed on wrapped canvas. It's a quote from Cervantes which says, "Faint heart never won fair lady." I love the idea of Des being a chivalrous, little gentleman knight. :-)</td></tr>
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Obviously, we still have A LOT of work to do; but I think it's starting to get there...<br />
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Love and Blessings,<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-16867421593327480982012-05-24T23:47:00.002-05:002012-05-24T23:47:45.341-05:00Pictures from the Cancer Battlefield, Part 14: TRANSPLANT PARTY!Today was mom's REbirthday! All the months upon months of chemotherapy have been to get to this point - transplant. God has been so good to her and all of us. We know we have been blessed, and I know that we have learned to never take one single day of life for granted.<br />
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Mom's donor was in Europe (roughly 7 hours ahead of us); so, last night a little after midnight we started praying for him. As it turns out, because of when the cells arrived here in Chicago, we can know that we were praying for the donor right around the time they were harvesting his stem cells 1/2 a world away - SO COOL!<br />
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The cells arrived earlier than expected (around 3 p.m.), and then were processed by the lab here at the <a href="http://www.cancercenter.com/">CTCA</a>. At 5:54 p.m., mom's transplant began...and thus her new life of total restoration and divine health!<br />
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I will let the pictures below speak for themselves, but I want to reiterate how very grateful we are to mom's donor, her doctors, her nurses, her fellow stem cells patients and their families, and everyone here at the Cancer Treatment Center of America. She was told her situation was hopeless (stage four Philadelphia positive adult acute lymphoblastic leukemia DOES seem pretty hopeless when looking through the eyes of the world); but they NEVER turned her away and NEVER gave up hope.<br />
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And of course, I have to thank God above for seeing her through. He is Jehovah Rapha, "the God who heals you"; and He has made good on every promise He has made to my mother. I am not naive, I know the outcome could have been different; so I rejoice every day that He has blessed us with more time together.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihJumrUfcfNnFo5GQ7EqJlCxdZqrA9MREBzt1tfo1KMMbhsaxr9vTewgXptHJ89mbv9xo4MD6oQe_GBnJ3g4m8PErv_csuzALXDlydW4Db0CUAIMDLeBOEXiVnQ33WfEqV4nNT6cIM_VO8/s1600/DSCN3009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihJumrUfcfNnFo5GQ7EqJlCxdZqrA9MREBzt1tfo1KMMbhsaxr9vTewgXptHJ89mbv9xo4MD6oQe_GBnJ3g4m8PErv_csuzALXDlydW4Db0CUAIMDLeBOEXiVnQ33WfEqV4nNT6cIM_VO8/s320/DSCN3009.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Both of mom's doctors got a bag like this. Dr. Redei got a bottle of chocolate wine from our favorite coffee/wine shop in Branson, MO - Vintage Paris. Dr. Abutalib got a bag of gourmet, cola-flavored coffee (his two faves are Pepsi and coffee).</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6dQZqcVyUnBKEpnMGwRTdEZ1EMqCHjkeb8IQxPDXWv6bg4LLsEYwvZt_HhIL1Gu0HwOVZIMJUEjZSOAp6YQcKv1okFMsXFhC7WmrvNA9brq_eiXRq58E19j1d6g2kk1kJQBCPbwlzoav/s1600/DSCN3126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6dQZqcVyUnBKEpnMGwRTdEZ1EMqCHjkeb8IQxPDXWv6bg4LLsEYwvZt_HhIL1Gu0HwOVZIMJUEjZSOAp6YQcKv1okFMsXFhC7WmrvNA9brq_eiXRq58E19j1d6g2kk1kJQBCPbwlzoav/s320/DSCN3126.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Banner I made mom for her hospital room.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxsMaRVfeg1KpdecJjkYt5KFWdG7s4vu0ej9N1P1rVa9xg5MjaZKW2g3tBt3Au-EBMBw3uBVLpxXcbKeyrFtBVnnXDIR5SGZe-3n3DXxVF2HLo2alEPc1P9fzpntdzNeveqk9qD40TXGUq/s1600/DSCN3127.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxsMaRVfeg1KpdecJjkYt5KFWdG7s4vu0ej9N1P1rVa9xg5MjaZKW2g3tBt3Au-EBMBw3uBVLpxXcbKeyrFtBVnnXDIR5SGZe-3n3DXxVF2HLo2alEPc1P9fzpntdzNeveqk9qD40TXGUq/s320/DSCN3127.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A closer view of the banner I made for mom.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPhXb1dZr9bZ3iLWY-EHyqobl72ZifGc9rTjQCp2Q8W828GssSxwu2KEz6q29pJcMVTEafExAU-K69HU_Ahp_x8IR6oVtup6QfoYrf38NBD8FuYDcThh8fmYBxQe-JkuqPj5ycmQEhi4h9/s1600/DSCN3132.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPhXb1dZr9bZ3iLWY-EHyqobl72ZifGc9rTjQCp2Q8W828GssSxwu2KEz6q29pJcMVTEafExAU-K69HU_Ahp_x8IR6oVtup6QfoYrf38NBD8FuYDcThh8fmYBxQe-JkuqPj5ycmQEhi4h9/s320/DSCN3132.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Decorations above at head of her hospital bed.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVvCabYAV8rf7UQ_fzWdlnYCgJO11lSZSH7JI23zHQIM1oLi3zZpT3tlR0n4L4Qe-D4AWF1DUUCinzEWsyRrPTkMctulzl4tJY9mSAT6_zcEVEztNBI-Dwkn9SETAuP-DNoy21pvX7sOv/s1600/DSCN3136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVvCabYAV8rf7UQ_fzWdlnYCgJO11lSZSH7JI23zHQIM1oLi3zZpT3tlR0n4L4Qe-D4AWF1DUUCinzEWsyRrPTkMctulzl4tJY9mSAT6_zcEVEztNBI-Dwkn9SETAuP-DNoy21pvX7sOv/s320/DSCN3136.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr. C made a couple of these Eiffel Towers for mom's room. The trophy in the back is from one of mom and dad's employee's sons. Both boys race carts and gave their first trophies of the season to mom, because "She's a winner!" SO adorable!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmYzduLFXEOXHlv1smyhWYAL-yDUoPQh-bfVijK5HZx-BKqDRQo6OTRDGOW00HXbTuOxremcUFg09BBdBYJC34_7kjyP_71A-wGIFz_wYyvr8yKe7F2izV6HmpZh4-HOKojRnDFNLdupHg/s1600/DSCN3143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmYzduLFXEOXHlv1smyhWYAL-yDUoPQh-bfVijK5HZx-BKqDRQo6OTRDGOW00HXbTuOxremcUFg09BBdBYJC34_7kjyP_71A-wGIFz_wYyvr8yKe7F2izV6HmpZh4-HOKojRnDFNLdupHg/s320/DSCN3143.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One side of mom's room.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgc2CuBtNlY9dQickgXY_1k5o_Tm3K_UJgqyDDjc4qbyRB_D-cdZtvgl4M5o1FJRMC07j9ME4S3CdDBfkiui6GGWtEEFBOGrUtRhsKA1NfWMOwBvqXDlt17GD824xY4UGHvDh_bvEflZ00/s1600/DSCN3183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgc2CuBtNlY9dQickgXY_1k5o_Tm3K_UJgqyDDjc4qbyRB_D-cdZtvgl4M5o1FJRMC07j9ME4S3CdDBfkiui6GGWtEEFBOGrUtRhsKA1NfWMOwBvqXDlt17GD824xY4UGHvDh_bvEflZ00/s320/DSCN3183.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The other side of mom's room.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi362zb6Zhs9mQYSH2adUPG4kz4pXUlMb87w0mQK84XjxmfkPfzpizaNleGRfgr-4H9kT71E1g2ewpBSTPyvepqPExxnwjtNX3OPuyMNDP_ypGoaOYHkpu2xHUyV-U8ZR2OoRvU5SnY1qXv/s1600/DSCN3150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi362zb6Zhs9mQYSH2adUPG4kz4pXUlMb87w0mQK84XjxmfkPfzpizaNleGRfgr-4H9kT71E1g2ewpBSTPyvepqPExxnwjtNX3OPuyMNDP_ypGoaOYHkpu2xHUyV-U8ZR2OoRvU5SnY1qXv/s320/DSCN3150.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom's doorway.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzgvPB2K6_RTCyTmHqE4ZmbUlpvC7LOEPQJ2clrMOqQjID6EAPm7ZpUFVjiuL2KnqLURBLyWK6kyAH2cgVrNPmLTMTNohmc_8iBpD7eCzRf5uhWJsCujG5F4a1KNbIIpdEYtpeQYucCdqb/s1600/DSCN3145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzgvPB2K6_RTCyTmHqE4ZmbUlpvC7LOEPQJ2clrMOqQjID6EAPm7ZpUFVjiuL2KnqLURBLyWK6kyAH2cgVrNPmLTMTNohmc_8iBpD7eCzRf5uhWJsCujG5F4a1KNbIIpdEYtpeQYucCdqb/s320/DSCN3145.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My attempt at drawing "la tour Eiffel" - haha!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1IXAqWrWcKzGbURmfUlpYgy9XEnuASR6wAo0eYSp5ptBtxAVOVx1gvGInKoMirTk9UAfCLs1geQEIZLFZcaXryO8sBSAUrq-foCw0t5s07Fbr2KEuPTJ3Z9nBYNd7JPOKsH6XBrHuBvSc/s1600/DSCN3149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1IXAqWrWcKzGbURmfUlpYgy9XEnuASR6wAo0eYSp5ptBtxAVOVx1gvGInKoMirTk9UAfCLs1geQEIZLFZcaXryO8sBSAUrq-foCw0t5s07Fbr2KEuPTJ3Z9nBYNd7JPOKsH6XBrHuBvSc/s320/DSCN3149.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom napping before transplant. Her numbers were quite low today (which is normal and what they want), but she was very tired.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCllRHwcVu-wI19e_slrHrfi_7z3qWaWzMXURwUsfVZaLWUpkoCrpic-mnhIV2qb4SHDvqaCzIkikh4epSkkkPfIORkQG56rrZM40ybbu6JOvU0moq1lNFlbj1OQflOlT9DxsuIGqcqWU/s1600/DSCN3133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCllRHwcVu-wI19e_slrHrfi_7z3qWaWzMXURwUsfVZaLWUpkoCrpic-mnhIV2qb4SHDvqaCzIkikh4epSkkkPfIORkQG56rrZM40ybbu6JOvU0moq1lNFlbj1OQflOlT9DxsuIGqcqWU/s320/DSCN3133.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Words of inspiration from the chaplain.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg89z7EZaxcKRTocdpcf2Zo6vhIGPY0YFAEBL1nMY13kqbiX_EF8ErMcI4b3WkjK4_9Neq-F68c3QTxATn2linkwvsK4yGkaZUPjO2cQWD_M4YMqCs8_7uJw7dW0OpNOim7R3uZHKDiCg1C/s1600/DSCN3187.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg89z7EZaxcKRTocdpcf2Zo6vhIGPY0YFAEBL1nMY13kqbiX_EF8ErMcI4b3WkjK4_9Neq-F68c3QTxATn2linkwvsK4yGkaZUPjO2cQWD_M4YMqCs8_7uJw7dW0OpNOim7R3uZHKDiCg1C/s320/DSCN3187.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom wearing the cute, pink mustache we got her.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLK0zYEN9u_OOHX9qtHehpDdJq0nao6Y4BsbtUP8egzzqBWsmBoUKyuRVe0Eqx0R9eyaj34ljG9YNLWwJcPpjCZEK2kzBSHRLBFUMsY94gz4rmnu3rraMQB9vOMNy7DqVciDQZoz9Za13i/s1600/DSCN3180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLK0zYEN9u_OOHX9qtHehpDdJq0nao6Y4BsbtUP8egzzqBWsmBoUKyuRVe0Eqx0R9eyaj34ljG9YNLWwJcPpjCZEK2kzBSHRLBFUMsY94gz4rmnu3rraMQB9vOMNy7DqVciDQZoz9Za13i/s320/DSCN3180.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and mom taking a moment.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5eT1Go5DZkC9ha8pW9oOREAWwuUUTduYLETWSTPYdZ8liXtw04Y7oEboYDDj7bazafad4xEDhxxplTPOv6xx7z9XezY2ps_WEvpaJI-pZwrQ3rAA85yrGcbjwGQQkx00MgKqLxENx1kW2/s1600/DSCN3193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5eT1Go5DZkC9ha8pW9oOREAWwuUUTduYLETWSTPYdZ8liXtw04Y7oEboYDDj7bazafad4xEDhxxplTPOv6xx7z9XezY2ps_WEvpaJI-pZwrQ3rAA85yrGcbjwGQQkx00MgKqLxENx1kW2/s320/DSCN3193.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Channeling Inspector Poirot. ;-)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDVd2RqeX5NJr1OO7hgtJ0JbemrW2DyX9fSCeQvPsolQa1zpmce0nqO4YxMLTgxxsciHIq4VSedfznR5WxgBeymqZ4kizCQm9DiXPa_7xAlF9-QWvb6i541vwQK_OnEzGiobMQTV5fse_P/s1600/DSCN3199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDVd2RqeX5NJr1OO7hgtJ0JbemrW2DyX9fSCeQvPsolQa1zpmce0nqO4YxMLTgxxsciHIq4VSedfznR5WxgBeymqZ4kizCQm9DiXPa_7xAlF9-QWvb6i541vwQK_OnEzGiobMQTV5fse_P/s320/DSCN3199.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and her nurse, Kim.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrz9Kdfyda1wLuB0HXKAlFTfYUkLlTXXhtkHfGAp38XAHYVrlbFM_2SwdmMarLTbGBgX2xeXJWeNhGnwJTogSjraN7v8J0BCYhcz2hzTa0qpxFIRAUkDgC3VN977-XnAOJ4mSaP8hfKJ_6/s1600/DSCN3200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrz9Kdfyda1wLuB0HXKAlFTfYUkLlTXXhtkHfGAp38XAHYVrlbFM_2SwdmMarLTbGBgX2xeXJWeNhGnwJTogSjraN7v8J0BCYhcz2hzTa0qpxFIRAUkDgC3VN977-XnAOJ4mSaP8hfKJ_6/s320/DSCN3200.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and PCT, Lisa.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjJoqaq4kmbZuAg-F_WYhF7hSvks6vMIGQ_O8ob1BkIfS5SaERiaNuHO0b6YvUcuw8MEW_PPL43dR7e2WpOgB_VL8Hs4agB6svAB2oepB4GXFD9XzU8ZHCYiPjk7RPJfJg6Xn3qFJVfMN/s1600/DSCN3154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjJoqaq4kmbZuAg-F_WYhF7hSvks6vMIGQ_O8ob1BkIfS5SaERiaNuHO0b6YvUcuw8MEW_PPL43dR7e2WpOgB_VL8Hs4agB6svAB2oepB4GXFD9XzU8ZHCYiPjk7RPJfJg6Xn3qFJVfMN/s320/DSCN3154.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I made treat bags for all the nurses and doctors and other friends of ours around the hospital to celebrate mom's REbirthday.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU0FC9fkeTonIcDi7OYRd7HmnJWGd1w9JksdYJbKPxFWsnA08wDj4vKBvcrVdiVJvRKhibaHxdcJDdDeOTjP3lm9DhEp8D7eWvDrgKIQYODyW1c_NIKX19i3IzVulOcy0iy0iWHvpvEdg4/s1600/DSCN3155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU0FC9fkeTonIcDi7OYRd7HmnJWGd1w9JksdYJbKPxFWsnA08wDj4vKBvcrVdiVJvRKhibaHxdcJDdDeOTjP3lm9DhEp8D7eWvDrgKIQYODyW1c_NIKX19i3IzVulOcy0iy0iWHvpvEdg4/s320/DSCN3155.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside each bag was a hand-made chocolate mustache on a stick, a party noise-maker, a bag of Ghiradelli chocolate squares and Jelly Bellies in cappuccino and French vanilla flavors, and a stick-on mustache.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN3Olbc-wErbfpk7lvde3pVj4zL3aP_a6ndo3A1F1JQ_vJEiuysYb5mEAgOSuE-YcceFNMYEEP8XfiAuGt3EOMvnLXLhBWuF_rXajbBHHJg80uNlGMighNroakBY0axfxf8s18PVxCUEtp/s1600/DSCN3159.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN3Olbc-wErbfpk7lvde3pVj4zL3aP_a6ndo3A1F1JQ_vJEiuysYb5mEAgOSuE-YcceFNMYEEP8XfiAuGt3EOMvnLXLhBWuF_rXajbBHHJg80uNlGMighNroakBY0axfxf8s18PVxCUEtp/s320/DSCN3159.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few of the chocolate mustaches that Mr. C and I made.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdPwnpcKFYjuujhe9Q6Aq4PeXpD5lA2SaTpjSSr1F_QqSMouPJytfefi_UqnJ0VhNjhS-3aDXScQQNA-UYvPfJAafwKShIl-qXyvBUGQw0OCWdKKQa6vy0zmi9MXA8QUdUDlZr_rvqfHUv/s1600/DSCN3161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdPwnpcKFYjuujhe9Q6Aq4PeXpD5lA2SaTpjSSr1F_QqSMouPJytfefi_UqnJ0VhNjhS-3aDXScQQNA-UYvPfJAafwKShIl-qXyvBUGQw0OCWdKKQa6vy0zmi9MXA8QUdUDlZr_rvqfHUv/s320/DSCN3161.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We made cupcakes for the doctors and nurses.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0wxga2N61zLnSl4vUNGB2fJ6YySzpZAhfLIGjVe9JzMMK6712qmWdo1S5sH-wCBEWz3o9VXpA65obwFpy85BBxg7hPE8fIlzRqFUL3rbFGBIA4SzNaoMRZsefgPLHp3ZpCMMfmgtnh3d8/s1600/DSCN3211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0wxga2N61zLnSl4vUNGB2fJ6YySzpZAhfLIGjVe9JzMMK6712qmWdo1S5sH-wCBEWz3o9VXpA65obwFpy85BBxg7hPE8fIlzRqFUL3rbFGBIA4SzNaoMRZsefgPLHp3ZpCMMfmgtnh3d8/s320/DSCN3211.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nancy, Kim, and Ron bringing in mom's donor's stem cells (ie: mom's new immune system)!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEl9ZgOAInGecZqng5dxk8OLc2df0vTO8sGjKRI-jxYh0NquonYZGSkz0_KKah7oDyZL2x63UVqHn8Ns2CmvEaTq4wsBQNIYgOsLbiwnjwBgFajdNIqigbBjSvOq2SILM3pQuDyUE18Mxt/s1600/DSCN3213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEl9ZgOAInGecZqng5dxk8OLc2df0vTO8sGjKRI-jxYh0NquonYZGSkz0_KKah7oDyZL2x63UVqHn8Ns2CmvEaTq4wsBQNIYgOsLbiwnjwBgFajdNIqigbBjSvOq2SILM3pQuDyUE18Mxt/s320/DSCN3213.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making sure everything's right.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVZ8AT7dOvHVUTZH3MEAi_-qAgg470gGN0hqs2FQTD4FtTcU9xfMd-Yr9ca0Xm95T7RSrDVFlW3zWgedX3v_NiDlI1gghrr7GjkQdJHGfi5VUs_WR5nnd_LlGgZgqwpSEsPECk2OkGJfwy/s1600/DSCN3218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVZ8AT7dOvHVUTZH3MEAi_-qAgg470gGN0hqs2FQTD4FtTcU9xfMd-Yr9ca0Xm95T7RSrDVFlW3zWgedX3v_NiDlI1gghrr7GjkQdJHGfi5VUs_WR5nnd_LlGgZgqwpSEsPECk2OkGJfwy/s320/DSCN3218.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom was ZONKED during/after transplant! LOTS of steroids and Benadryl given beforehand...she slept pretty much the entire time. Prograf is anti-rejection medication.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj06vwQYDrsZPfzWpAU81TDuEbWMRAtJbRY1eapMbHFvC-rN6SzbzZOO2cdwPcJfjq1YOhIK24r4WUicBDS_rk_QGJvPjsdf6XEWIEGUImmZ5msfKBAR4M9pdXBjv0dcqxgIiPC3Bg8iASd/s1600/DSCN3169.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj06vwQYDrsZPfzWpAU81TDuEbWMRAtJbRY1eapMbHFvC-rN6SzbzZOO2cdwPcJfjq1YOhIK24r4WUicBDS_rk_QGJvPjsdf6XEWIEGUImmZ5msfKBAR4M9pdXBjv0dcqxgIiPC3Bg8iASd/s320/DSCN3169.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and the "three elves".</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjEBsCiJbaB3-9us7iAK7uDvVXoOc0Q86S6VTchcDDz8xIgcqJf4h__8SXGF34dilvAl_OzNezrR0L3vVIYlPK8n8zSs5yCvjkuWid8yCpQBw2hTzEV_nBg5JgPzzpBgFqNfM19Kcod6dZ/s1600/DSCN3115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjEBsCiJbaB3-9us7iAK7uDvVXoOc0Q86S6VTchcDDz8xIgcqJf4h__8SXGF34dilvAl_OzNezrR0L3vVIYlPK8n8zSs5yCvjkuWid8yCpQBw2hTzEV_nBg5JgPzzpBgFqNfM19Kcod6dZ/s320/DSCN3115.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and Dr. Redei - photo taken a few days ago when she was admitted for transplant.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlcHGYkGRHFgGyL7_qdr8f-i-KJsbAn7kaLHj3lAemDr82ZmPD9Nuy9D6Ixc11LR-p9ac_71184QPX2pdxVeP7t6PttPB2USVfaFAccXc94qHen1qsCCVYaPyO18Gkc40pPp_63ELfQBwn/s1600/DSCN3167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlcHGYkGRHFgGyL7_qdr8f-i-KJsbAn7kaLHj3lAemDr82ZmPD9Nuy9D6Ixc11LR-p9ac_71184QPX2pdxVeP7t6PttPB2USVfaFAccXc94qHen1qsCCVYaPyO18Gkc40pPp_63ELfQBwn/s320/DSCN3167.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dr. Abutalib with his "cola coffee".</td></tr>
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<br />
There were so many pictures from today and the past few days, I had a hard time choosing which to post here; but I hope you can see how joyful we all feel and are about this milestone in mom's healing journey. Every day she is going to feel better and better!<br />
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We are so thankful to all of you for your support and continued prayers. We will never be able to thank you enough!<br />
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Love and Blessings to You and Yours,<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-13490842382984350092012-05-15T17:35:00.000-05:002012-05-17T01:09:52.528-05:00My Birthday Wish 2012<i>I'm writing this today (Tuesday the 15th), because mom is having a slew of pre-transplant tests done on my actual birthday (Thursday the 17th) that I really want/need to be present for. So, I will be posting a link to this blog on Thursday before we head to the <a href="http://www.cancercenter.com/">CTCA</a> that morning. *fingers crossed*</i><br />
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<i><b>Also: The friends/families listed below do NOT know I'm doing this...I sincerely hope they are not offended by this, but rather are excited to accepted the gifts and blessings that I really hope are coming their way. So, please know that these people did not solicit me to do this; I WANT to do this to help them out in some, small way. Thank you.</b> </i><br />
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As my birthday approached this year, family members and Mr. C kept asking me what I wanted for my birthday. As usual, I wracked my brain trying to think of something I really wanted or needed. Beyond finances for the adoption, there was nothing I could think of that I felt I truly, desperately wanted.<br />
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The only thing weighing on my heart right now are the people I've been touched by over these past few years. My family is not the only one out there struggling with disease. I have been <i>blessed</i> to have my life touched by so many old and new friends who are fighting their own good fight just as my family is.<br />
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So, it hit me that what would make me truly happy as I embark on my 31st year here on this planet would be if I could somehow go beyond what my own, insignificant hands can do and really reach out to my struggling and hurting friends.<br />
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<b>This is what I'm asking of you, dear friend: could you, <i>would you</i> - please - take a minute of your time to write a card or letter to one of the following friends of mine who could really use your support right now? Just a note to let them know that you're praying for them and thinking of them during this time. If you feel so inclined, send them a gift card or check to help with bills, groceries, lunch somewhere other than the hospital, etc. This is what I really want for my birthday, and it would mean the WORLD to me if you would do this for one of my friends. </b><br />
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I will NOT be giving out these people's addresses (I just don't feel comfortable doing that without their permission); so, my plan is that you can send your cards and letters to me HERE:<br />
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<b>Mandie Hickenbottom-Conner</b><br />
<b>2400 N. Samson Way</b><br />
<b>Apt. 1C</b><br />
<b>Waukegan, IL 60087</b><br />
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Then, I will forward them all on to the people you wrote to (and no, I WILL NOT be opening the cards - I will forward them on just as you send them to me).<br />
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<b>PLEASE PUT THE NAME OF THE FAMILY/FRIEND YOU ARE WRITING TO ON THE BACK OF THE CARD/LETTER, THAT WAY I WILL KNOW WHO TO FORWARD THEM ON TO.</b><b> </b><br />
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Here is my list of friends - choose one or all! :-)<br />
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<u><b>THE GUERECA FAMILY:</b></u></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-iTPQzrcQsJqLm_1lzwVqlyfoSvIIWFhJDo-aGiG7zWNbvA-6GzLmNBPwU20VaG0-exFy0x18rR43Es_4wFGPL569pJluAtxspiCU2_bQEuORpA9in6pRD2HEJ-qMtRkL7Yf6iQCsHHAN/s1600/vinceguereca.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-iTPQzrcQsJqLm_1lzwVqlyfoSvIIWFhJDo-aGiG7zWNbvA-6GzLmNBPwU20VaG0-exFy0x18rR43Es_4wFGPL569pJluAtxspiCU2_bQEuORpA9in6pRD2HEJ-qMtRkL7Yf6iQCsHHAN/s320/vinceguereca.jpg" width="217" /></a></div>
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If you've read my blog lately, you've probably read about my friend, Vince Guereca. If not, you can read about his impact on my life <a href="http://blog.tolovearose.com/2012/05/pictures-from-cancer-battleground-part.html">here</a>. </div>
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Vince was a loving husband to his wife Silvia and devoted father to his four children Julie, Priscilla, Elliot, and Jesse. And at only 36 years of age, it was hard for me to understand why our heavenly father decided to take him home; but as I've said before, there are many things I know I will not be privy to in this lifetime.</div>
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One thing I know is that Vince would never have left if he wasn't <i>certain</i> that his wife and kids would be taken care of properly. While I know that their church, New Life in Chicago, is doing their best, the burden of being a single parent to four little humans ages 6 to 15 is a lot for anyone.</div>
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I know Silvia is smart and strong, but I also know that we are called to care for widows and orphans:</div>
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<i>"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this:
to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself
from being polluted by the world." -James 1:27 (NIV)</i></div>
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So, I ask that you consider writing/donating to the Guereca family; for they are humble and most worthy. </div>
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If you would like to donate directly to Silvia, a bank account has been set up specifically for donations:</div>
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Chase Bank, account #: 948075536</div>
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<u><b>MARY DAY:</b></u></div>
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This is a photo of Mary and Jim Day. I had the pleasure of meeting them at the cancer center where Jim was a stem cell patient like mom. Sadly, Jim lost his fight with cancer not that long ago; and understandably, Mary has lost her best friend and partner in life.<br />
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Jim was a godly man who knew exactly where he was going and showed true strength of character and immense bravery until the very end. He has inspired me to live without the fear of death (something I used to struggle with quite a bit), and I know I will never forget him.<br />
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Mary stayed by Jim's side night and day. All of the nurses at the CTCA were deeply moved by her devotion to Jim, as was I.<br />
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I know without a doubt that Mary would love to hear from you - that you care, that you are thinking of her, that you are praying for her.<br />
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<u><b>THE MELCHOIRRE FAMLY/BABYPAUL:</b></u></div>
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This sweet, little guy is Paul Melchoirre. He was born to my college pal, Colleen, and her hubby, Dan. Paul also just so happens to have been born with a heart condition called Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome. This has required baby Paul to undergo numerous surgeries followed by <i>long</i> stints in the NICU at Vanderbilt Children's Hospital in Nashville, TN.<br />
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Paul is a fighter, and I KNOW that God has an awesome purpose for his life. As someone who understands days upon days spent in a hospital, I am sure that Colleen and Dan would appreciate your thinking of them with a nice gift card to someplace like Starbucks or another eatery like Panera where they could take a tiny break from the NICU and replenish their bodies and minds. Just a card letting them know you care enough to think of/pray for their sweet boy would mean a lot to them, I'm sure.<br />
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<u><b>GARY LEMASTER AND FAMILY:</b></u></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJDGCjJxMdAgMzrZwT_8DLkHPcvOYBRLSX5aT1B1U_8pbKbiJOyoOH3JOpoSWiXjBnK3UaZ99Uj9HvnZOp4aDdTXqmv1QTWeZV8ZlTYL905l0ES-dolnzb1t4CPWVgrR968pADMFjv9bO/s1600/caryjeanandherdad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJDGCjJxMdAgMzrZwT_8DLkHPcvOYBRLSX5aT1B1U_8pbKbiJOyoOH3JOpoSWiXjBnK3UaZ99Uj9HvnZOp4aDdTXqmv1QTWeZV8ZlTYL905l0ES-dolnzb1t4CPWVgrR968pADMFjv9bO/s320/caryjeanandherdad.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
This is my friend, CaryJean, and her dad, Gary. Gary has been fighting pancreatic and now lung cancer for the past year or so. This picture was taken at Cary's recent graduation from college. A friend made sure that a private ceremony was held so that Gary could SEE his daughter graduate, as he could not have made it through the entire ceremony held for the public.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<u><b> </b></u></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Cary and her mother, Valerie, are devoted to Gary during his treatments and recovery periods. I know they would love to hear that you are thinking of Gary as he continues his radiation treatment in preparation for more surgery and chemotherapy.</div>
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There are so many more friends that I could place here today, but I don't want to overwhelm you all with choices; so for now, I will stick with these four options.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>Again, please send all cards/letters/etc. to ME at the address above WITH the name of the family/person you are writing to on the back of the card so I know where to send it. </b></div>
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<br /></div>
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I just want to THANK YOU all in advance from the bottom of my heart for doing this for me/my friends. It is the BEST birthday gift I could ever receive, and I want you to know how much I appreciate it!</div>
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<br /></div>
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For those of you who don't know, mom's stem cell transplant will take place on May 23rd. If you'd like to write her some encouraging words as well, you may write to the address above (just put her name in instead of mine) or you can send it directly to the CTCA here:</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Kerry Hickenbottom</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Cancer Treatment Center of America</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Stem Cell Unit</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
2520 Elisha Ave.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Zion, IL 60099</div>
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<br /></div>
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Thank you again, friend! I hope you have a blessed day!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
All the Love in the World,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
*mandie*</div>
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</div>
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</div>*Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-721376321214705112012-05-12T22:29:00.000-05:002012-05-12T22:32:53.803-05:00To ALL of You: HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXh9ijmxbHfgAX7roDsxDEXgvTTlhz4bNOPrG1FF1Kx2IqL_CBHD1-4VmdPKy84MhLVCBzxd6xtXqrpnDkpTQN54FEk7eMpjwg0HlNEwHtV6ChtGTwaEE05KgfEwT5KaGq6yFSlQIMtQ0x/s1600/mothersday2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXh9ijmxbHfgAX7roDsxDEXgvTTlhz4bNOPrG1FF1Kx2IqL_CBHD1-4VmdPKy84MhLVCBzxd6xtXqrpnDkpTQN54FEk7eMpjwg0HlNEwHtV6ChtGTwaEE05KgfEwT5KaGq6yFSlQIMtQ0x/s400/mothersday2012.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.eastwood.nsw.edu.au/kinderclips/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/Tag11.jpg">http://www.eastwood.nsw.edu.au/kinderclips/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/Tag11.jpg</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Last year, I was definitely in a different place in regards to my feelings on Mother's Day. I wrote <a href="http://blog.tolovearose.com/2011/05/happy-mothers-day.html">this blog</a> about the hurt I and so many infertile women feel from time to time about the holiday.<br />
<br />
Oh what a difference one year can make! There will probably always be a bit of my heart that remains broken from this infertility journey. I can't wipe the truth away, but I can begin to mend...and I think I have.<br />
<br />
This adoption has truly saved my sanity in a sense. I'm still bitter at times that my body didn't give me a choice in this process, but I'm smart enough to know that I am greatly blessed to have the ability to adopt a precious child who will need me as much as I need him.<br />
<br />
And then there is my own mother...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXi8N2SdkXEHgtD9G5lAvCmKCdMKwgDIEzmcjZ7qjxYFDOd9nriege7-xlsZ7KbR412STFutpofeRbfUwmXtAyryq39aKbJeH24KoJ5zhP7Y-_2HFgItHGlYR2MzrK429PAqQ6CXOY3Sfv/s1600/IMG01990-20120328-1528.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXi8N2SdkXEHgtD9G5lAvCmKCdMKwgDIEzmcjZ7qjxYFDOd9nriege7-xlsZ7KbR412STFutpofeRbfUwmXtAyryq39aKbJeH24KoJ5zhP7Y-_2HFgItHGlYR2MzrK429PAqQ6CXOY3Sfv/s320/IMG01990-20120328-1528.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom at our apartment in Zion before heading to clinic.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I am <b>BEYOND GRATEFUL</b> that I get to celebrate another Mother's Day with her. There was a time last fall when I wondered if I would, and it was the most terrifying time of my life. I owe her everything - she stayed at home to be with my two younger sisters and myself while we grew up, and she encouraged us to be who we were meant to be and do what we loved. There was never a distance too far for her to travel to make sure we had what we needed to succeed in life, and she would do anything for her children, husband, family, and friends.<br />
<br />
Her stem cell transplant is set to take place on <b>May 23rd</b>, and we're throwing her a party on the stem cell unit floor. I am so glad I get to be a part of her "rebirthday", and I look forward to celebrating many more with her.<br />
<br />
I hope I can be as good of a mother to Des as she was (and is!) to me. I am such a blessed daughter to have her in my life.<br />
<br />
<br />
So, to all of you moms out there:<br />
<br />
<b>pregnant moms</b><br />
<br />
<b>first-time moms-to-be</b><br />
<br />
<b>foster moms</b><br />
<br />
<b>adoptive moms</b><br />
<br />
<b>first/birth moms</b><br />
<br />
<b>surrogate moms</b><br />
<br />
<b>egg donor moms</b><br />
<br />
<b>pet/fur moms</b><br />
<br />
<b>those who choose to not be moms but still have mom-hearts for others' kiddos</b><br />
<br />
<b>those who are hoping against hope that they get to be moms one day</b><br />
<br />
<b>auntie-moms</b><br />
<br />
<b>grandmoms/great-grandmoms/great-great-grandmoms and so on :-)</b><br />
<br />
<b>single moms</b><br />
<br />
<b>widowed moms</b><br />
<br />
<b>stay at home/work from home/work in and out of the home moms</b><br />
<br />
<b>granola moms/preppy moms/artsy moms/just trying to get by moms</b><br />
<br />
<b>moms who have experienced a loss (or more) whether in the womb or of an adult child</b><br />
<br />
<b>older moms/younger moms</b><br />
<br />
<b>teacher "moms" </b><br />
<br />
Whoever you are...wherever you are...however you are a "mom"<b>...I want to wish you a FABULOUS Mother's Day! And I want you to know that God sees your heart. He knows every selfless, loving act of kindness. I believe great blessings come to those like you. So know on this special day that you are loved and cherished and greatly prized.</b><br />
<b><br /></b><br />
Blessings and Much Love to <b>ALL</b> of You,<br />
*mandie*<br />*Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-46787838863917812392012-05-09T23:49:00.001-05:002012-05-12T22:35:36.575-05:00Pictures from the Cancer Battleground, Part 13: in[VINCE]ible<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJXrhdvvZlnSn4BaZQ9Jt6ELtCtdiFWCKZnYZ46eb_ggUJq6i0Vn1eDMI2Hd-hGqP5yu_KBerQjWdZwJcIJn8UrX2w03-VnQuBNMzNegQi3-wRkYaqhpZHSRRTz_jtbHqfgwY_MmzIrSo/s1600/vinceguereca.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJXrhdvvZlnSn4BaZQ9Jt6ELtCtdiFWCKZnYZ46eb_ggUJq6i0Vn1eDMI2Hd-hGqP5yu_KBerQjWdZwJcIJn8UrX2w03-VnQuBNMzNegQi3-wRkYaqhpZHSRRTz_jtbHqfgwY_MmzIrSo/s400/vinceguereca.jpg" width="271" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of Vince's friends made this lovely tribute to him using his "Strong Arm" photo - just beautiful!</td></tr>
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Tonight was our friend Vince Guereca's wake. We couldn't be there; so, we streamed it online through his churches website. Ever since Vince passed last Thursday, I've been sad; but I had no idea I would break down so much tonight. My whole body was shaking; I just could not contain the sadness any longer.<br />
<br />
Knowing that I couldn't be there, I prepared a written word to be read at the wake tonight. It was completely surreal watching someone else read my words through the video screen. My dad wrote something too, and it was beautiful. So many people got up to share stories of how Vince had impacted their lives; it was a wonderful testimony of Vince's work for God here on Earth.<br />
<br />
Vince was such a wonderful person. It's so hard to reconcile the outcome of his battle with cancer in my heart and mind; but I know that there are many things I will not be privy to in this lifetime.<br />
<br />
One thing I forgot to put in my speech about Vince was something that happened one Sunday when he was particularly not feeling well. I remember he asked me, Mr. C, and our friend Neil (also a stem cell patient who just successfully underwent his <i>third</i> transplant - AMEN!) to go down to the little chapel just down the hall from the stem cell out-patient clinic to go to a service with him. The <a href="http://www.cancercenter.com/">CTCA</a> has chaplains and pastors who will put on mini-services every Sunday for those of us stuck in the hospital and unable to attend at our home churches, etc.<br />
<br />
Of course, we went with him. He was hooked up to a bunch of tubes, getting some sort of infusion; and honestly, he was looking thin and tired. When we got to the service, we sat in the back, as we were the last people in; and naturally, the pastor asked us to introduce ourselves and say if we had any prayer requests.<br />
<br />
Stupidly, I acted like an idiot, barely talking and barely even remembering to mention my mother who was upstairs in the stem cell in-patient ward at the time. I don't know why I was acting so thoughtless, it's not like me to be tongue-tied in any way; but I was, and I felt like a fool.<br />
<br />
Vince was just sitting a few chairs away from me; so when it was his turn to speak, he stood up and introduced himself. The only prayer request he had was that everyone please pray for Mr. C and my adoption of Desmond - that it go smoothly and that we receive all the funding that we need.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, I was humbled to the point that I wished I could literally crawl under a chair like a shy, little kid! <b> Here is a man fighting for his very life, and instead of asking for people to pray for him, he asked only that they pray for US!</b> That is something I will just never forget.<br />
<br />
That is just a tiny portrait of what Vince's heart was like. It was beautiful and selfless, and so full of love for people and his Abba God. I was so blessed to have known him, and I look forward to hearing all of the amazing things he has to tell me when I get to see my brother again one day in Heaven.<br />
<br />
Here is what I wrote that was read at his wake this evening...such a sad attempt at capturing the beautiful human being I got to know these past 5 months:<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
May 7<sup>th</sup>, 2012</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(To be read at Vince Guereca’s celebration of life. New Life
Church, Chicago, IL)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">To
Silvia, Julie, Priscilla, Elliot, and Jesse:</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">My
heart is aching for you all right now.
It has been for days. I keep
trying to think of just the right thing to say, the right thing to
write…nothing seems adequate. But here
is my attempt at trying:</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
I met Vince Guereca on a
battlefield – the stem cell unit of the Cancer Treatment Center of America in Zion, IL
where my mom was and still is undergoing treatment for stage 4 acute
lymphoblastic leukemia. As in many
battles, you seem to quickly bond with those in the trenches alongside you –
your brothers in arms – and my entire family got to know and love Vince and
Silvia both.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
It was very easy to love Vince –
with his big, bright smile and readiness to listen, he was an instant friend to
my family and my mom especially. They
would often encourage each other with Bible verses and stories about life and
what God had already done for them both – so many miracles.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Yes, it IS a cancer center; but it
wasn’t <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">all</i> dreary and dull. We had good days too - an afternoon playing
Apples to Apples (Silvia won, of course <span style="font-family: Wingdings;">J</span>) or the day we got
Vince to eat Kentucky Fried Chicken (no mere feat considering how much his
appetite had waned at that time in his treatment).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
But my favorite times were when
Vince would talk about Jesus. He had
such a HUGE heart for our Abba God, and he wanted everyone to KNOW how much
Christ loved his children. I can
honestly say I doubt I’ve met anyone as willing to be bold for Christ in a
real-life sense as Vince; and I hope I can be more like him in that respect
each and every day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
When Vince talked about Jesus his
whole face lit up, and when you seemed to “get” what he was trying to tell you
about God, he broke out into that famous big grin of his - the only other time
I saw his face shine that bright was when he spoke of his beloved wife, Silvia,
or his four kids. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
He once told me that if his journey
with cancer ended with him in Heaven, it wouldn’t matter how miraculous it all
was around him, he would be waiting for Silvia to join him so that he could
enjoy it all with his sweetheart. While
I’m sure Vince actually really IS enjoying himself in Heaven at this very
moment, it was still touching to me to hear him speak this way and how full of
love he obviously was for his wife.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Vince also praised his children
often during the hours spent getting infusions and treatments in the stem cell
clinic. He was beyond thrilled to be a
dad, and he would say over and over how he knew God had amazing plans for each
one of his kids. He couldn’t wait to see
what they were going to become, because he already knew each one was such a
wonderful human being who loved Jesus…”everything else is just a bonus”, he
told me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Toward the end of Vince’s battle,
he and I would talk about F.F. Bosworth’s book <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Christ the Healer</i> a lot; and maybe it is particularly because of
those conversations that Vince’s passing has been so especially difficult for
me. For the first couple of days, I just
could not understand how our loving Christ Jesus, who so obviously wants to
heal his children, would not heal Vince.
Why he would let this disease “win”.
I was praying and praying for some sort of understanding…some sort of peace;
but I felt as though God was not answering my prayers. It was not until last night while I was once
again trying to figure out what to write here that God spoke to me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Often, when God talks to me
personally, it is a mere word or phrase; and I feel like He then leaves it up
to me to discover the significance for my life and circumstances. Perhaps this is because my Abba knows me
better than anyone and knows how much I like a good mystery (haha!); but
deep-down I’m sure it’s because He wants me to grow and learn.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Last night, the only word I
received from Heaven was this:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;">“<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">INVINCIBLE”</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
One word. Very simple.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
But I was angered by this word – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">invincible</i>?! Really, God?!
Vince is no longer with us, and you give me the word “invincible” as my
answer as to why? I was bewildered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
But as I said, God knows me better
than anyone…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
I began to twist the word around
and around in my head. You see, I love
languages; and in college, I got to study several, including many years delving
into Latin.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
“Invincible” just so happens to be
rooted in Latin. Its core stems from the
Latin verb “vincere” or “to conquer or vanquish”. Putting “ible” at the end of a verb denotes
ability – in this case the “ability to be conquered”. And lastly, prefixing a word with “in”
negates whatever is to come, making this not so much a mere word, but a bold
statement:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">ONE WHO CANNOT BE CONQUERED.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Take also into account the fact
that Vince’s name (or at least the sound) is right smack in the middle of this
word, and it all became clear to me. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 150%;">Vince was not conquered. He was not vanquished. He did NOT lose.</span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“No,
in all these things we are <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">more than
conquerors</b> through Him who loved us.
For I am convinced that neither <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">death</b>
nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor
any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in ALL CREATION will be
able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:37-39</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Yes, it may seem to the world that
he did lose. It may seem that Satan won;
that the disease won…but that is the glorious thing about Christ’s never-ending
love and mercy – we get to live forever with him, no matter what our
circumstances here on Earth may have been.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Vince is “more than a conqueror”
through Christ’s sacrifice on the cross at Calvary. Vince is in Heaven – totally restored,
totally whole, totally healthy! AMEN!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
So, HAHA, cancer!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
HAHA, Satan!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
YOU are the losers! YOU are the vanquished ones!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Yes, we will all miss Vince while
we live out the remainder of our days here on Earth, that is a sad truth; BUT
we can live on with the constant reassurance that we will be reunited with him
again for all eternity.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
I am so glad that we all serve a
SAVIOR who never closes a door without opening a window. I am so glad that Christ Jesus loves us lowly
humans enough to always gift us HOPE. I
am so glad that when we ask for grace and mercy and peace, it is given to
us. And I am so glad that God allowed me
to know my brother, Vince Guereca, even if only for a short while here on
Earth; and I look forward to seeing him again in Heaven – he will have so much
to tell me (and all of us), I’m sure! <span style="font-family: Wingdings;"></span> </div>
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<br /></div>
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So, that is how I will remember invincible
Vince Guereca: <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">“he who cannot be conquered”</b>. And to those of you who may be listening to
these words, I am praying for Christ’s love to overwhelm you with peace and
warmth at this time and always, especially Silvia, Julie, Priscilla, Elliot,
and Jesse and all of Vince’s family and friends…</div>
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<br /></div>
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All the Love in the World to You –
Blessings,</div>
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*mandie*<br />
<br />
PS: Vincent means "conquering"...he was born to be a winner! RIP, my friend. </div>*Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6736876520313398869.post-45961785102733396512012-05-07T23:10:00.001-05:002012-05-13T20:59:35.158-05:00Pictures from the Cancer Battlefield, Part 12: A Homecoming<i>Look at me, following through on promises and writing another blog; please, hold your applause. *wink*</i><br />
<br />
For those of you following along at home, you already know that my mom was diagnosed on November 14th with stage 4 adult Philadelphia positive acute lymphoblastic leukemia. It's as nasty as it sounds, and from that day forward, mom was holed up doing treatments in preparation for a bone marrow transplant at the fabulous <a href="http://www.cancercenter.com/">Cancer Treatment Center of America, Zion, IL</a>.<br />
<br />
When I say "holed up", I mean it. Mom had not been allowed to go home since that fateful day back in November. We spent many holidays in the guest quarters and hospital; so mom could be safe in the vicinity of her doctors and nursing team.<br />
<br />
While she was grateful to be watched so closely, one thing she desperately wanted to do before her transplant was go home. After transplant, one must stay at the hospital for 100 days to make sure that the new stem cells have fully ingrafted and that there are no complications. Mom is committed to doing whatever it takes to ensure her health and safety, but her one request was a reprieve at home (no matter how brief) before her "rebirthday" (transplant day).<br />
<br />
Well, she got her wish! Mr. C, myself, and mom were in the stem cell out-patient clinic a couple of weeks ago when Dr. Redei (head of the CTCA stem cell unit) twirled around in his chair and told mom she could go home for four days! I've never seen mom pack so quickly (we were out the door within 20 minutes tops!); she was so excited to go home!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUmUHOuZpmV58LZmoeNFNLiNgtR9O9pFzNZGAX6gRBzVSHzQOYqWtVKHYxDI68E98p5_QMpQimOgb9aNLr0NIgCZm7GiIqX-xZhnx3Dc3_XnBpbWEicbN3ve3_niVptNCzsqPSc7XBYiH7/s1600/DSCN2915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUmUHOuZpmV58LZmoeNFNLiNgtR9O9pFzNZGAX6gRBzVSHzQOYqWtVKHYxDI68E98p5_QMpQimOgb9aNLr0NIgCZm7GiIqX-xZhnx3Dc3_XnBpbWEicbN3ve3_niVptNCzsqPSc7XBYiH7/s320/DSCN2915.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom giving the thumbs up as we take off for Iowa.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Our first stop once home was to go watch the <a href="http://www.fairfieldsfuture.org/">Fairfield High School </a>theater department's production of <i>The Wizard of Oz</i>. This was the first real show I ever did at the age of 11; so I was really excited to watch it as well. Mom's friend's oldest daughter, Baylee, was cast as Glinda the Good Witch; so, we rallied together and made a little cheering squad in the auditorium. Mom was a good girl, too. She wore her mask the entire time.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTlpQaY5c8428B0NbiCTOgSAsvB_WZXDdCVYJEU84A3HZonUcbO6uraWAn3JQNQTOQ4WsFrzfCxDEdKWohrWKih8vNxH2Ixt-PJMEeEIORHaA_Z6R6S_sYPfIvBIT_9pJ-KZ9Bwk_WGh-Y/s1600/DSCN2917.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTlpQaY5c8428B0NbiCTOgSAsvB_WZXDdCVYJEU84A3HZonUcbO6uraWAn3JQNQTOQ4WsFrzfCxDEdKWohrWKih8vNxH2Ixt-PJMEeEIORHaA_Z6R6S_sYPfIvBIT_9pJ-KZ9Bwk_WGh-Y/s320/DSCN2917.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the cheering squad: mom, Heidi, and Blair.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHNxfmdwUw0qDBjoWfc4aUVZAoKQ4ZUmXGHyxNWsFLXgueqZXDX9ToD7Pi0HyEAcTH5SJlSGjWCTl3qeSw-mzou55SsXbhHN3s0LA00wrp-a9DsTpNFHWvL6BKj0jMH52F3NLtj9opUE6a/s1600/DSCN2918.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHNxfmdwUw0qDBjoWfc4aUVZAoKQ4ZUmXGHyxNWsFLXgueqZXDX9ToD7Pi0HyEAcTH5SJlSGjWCTl3qeSw-mzou55SsXbhHN3s0LA00wrp-a9DsTpNFHWvL6BKj0jMH52F3NLtj9opUE6a/s320/DSCN2918.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and the show's director, Scott Slechta (my former high school drama teacher). :-)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyCDlR6yn4o3sEPpxn_awx3mT29o-5d7KoyjyyxmDq06kx8kHU_o8yiLXSYONl-C5ut_P5pJ_fYhmv3xAK6Wb7i6OIwoXYXu0uA2YUiZ-eCux4tfJlsQJY2Wp1F5B31DDv_Oemkwq-0oHT/s1600/DSCN2920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyCDlR6yn4o3sEPpxn_awx3mT29o-5d7KoyjyyxmDq06kx8kHU_o8yiLXSYONl-C5ut_P5pJ_fYhmv3xAK6Wb7i6OIwoXYXu0uA2YUiZ-eCux4tfJlsQJY2Wp1F5B31DDv_Oemkwq-0oHT/s320/DSCN2920.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and Glinda (err, Baylee!) after the show! She did a GREAT job!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb52TeNPSZnmEWigKMxcQtoK3l6UNv6bizh0gmY-S2HMQFA2FyrxhXhfQ2ZTM3tbh6H2Mnyuoqd_Yrud-rFYyKVPK32On-B3X9ocZSHo-Ww6R3MsHVPXs89Euwv49uHyFCXx6YuZ46J0ge/s1600/IMG-20120423-00001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb52TeNPSZnmEWigKMxcQtoK3l6UNv6bizh0gmY-S2HMQFA2FyrxhXhfQ2ZTM3tbh6H2Mnyuoqd_Yrud-rFYyKVPK32On-B3X9ocZSHo-Ww6R3MsHVPXs89Euwv49uHyFCXx6YuZ46J0ge/s320/IMG-20120423-00001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom also got to visit with her friend, Debbie, who's husband is mom's chiropractor.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was not long after this that mom found out that she had to go back to the CTCA for her LAST bone marrow biopsy and inter-thecal (injection of chemotherapy directly into spinal column) before transplant; BUT that after that, she would be allowed to go home for the remainder of the time. Which also meant that she did NOT have to do her last round of "part B" chemo (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Methotrexate">methotrexate</a>).<br />
<br />
She was pretty excited about this, because the methotrexate always hit her quite hard and made her feel extra awful. Instead, she would take higher doses of <a href="http://www.sprycel.com/index.aspx?TC=35615&utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=brandedgeneral&utm_term=sprycel&utm_content=brandedlp1_textad_home_text_tc35615">Sprycel</a> to prepare for the transplant. She's not too fond of Sprycel either, but it's better than the methotrexate; AND it acts like a sniper to keep the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philadelphia_chromosome">Philadelphia chromosome</a> from causing a "blast crisis".<br />
<br />
Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, mom travels to Mt. Pleasant (about 1/2 hour away from our hometown of <a href="http://cityoffairfieldiowa.com/">Fairfield</a>) to the <a href="http://www.hchc.org/chemo/">Henry County Health Clinic's infusion center</a> to get a CBC (complete blood count) and any infusions she may need (magnesium, potassium, blood, platelets, etc.). So far, they have been GREAT; and we're all feeling blessed that mom can still receive excellent care while being able to be close to home.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ioHamoo-x1gaJDvzalK68YqS5ljWdeknfVfFsmcE0Hn1G2z2HYk5OZfTXApFV4lt20Q7xg8YTz5SfvzePcxerDoQp5FVJlXICIt_fxHAT3SD88gPQ6i9cHM_Vt78wILsq97V1snrKAnr/s1600/DSCN2923.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ioHamoo-x1gaJDvzalK68YqS5ljWdeknfVfFsmcE0Hn1G2z2HYk5OZfTXApFV4lt20Q7xg8YTz5SfvzePcxerDoQp5FVJlXICIt_fxHAT3SD88gPQ6i9cHM_Vt78wILsq97V1snrKAnr/s320/DSCN2923.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom relaxing at the Henry County Health Center's infusion Clinic.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Also, we like them; because they usually have treats like these:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOKweoM7ZjEybXJ8591CnJeLHW9dxtqdIC-zOU74nmQAL9DeLKf7i1emqAAssgKByUlMyt52dVrgDFnx9n4r-yE8-HWzCRSEci4OMRkoZTUKNAdFkqyLecJvbM-ld0sALzwXXJaTCmW2Si/s1600/DSCN2922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOKweoM7ZjEybXJ8591CnJeLHW9dxtqdIC-zOU74nmQAL9DeLKf7i1emqAAssgKByUlMyt52dVrgDFnx9n4r-yE8-HWzCRSEci4OMRkoZTUKNAdFkqyLecJvbM-ld0sALzwXXJaTCmW2Si/s320/DSCN2922.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate oatmeal cookies.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFAEr6KR2qbltvY31m03ugpSkvV-91wp0v8n50qJXadhlz6FoTyQtC6tBNeI9J6v10yIzyLnUgSSGSUCttxvbB48FVCIvv7X0pnyM29vwZChQE4354BSR53PYE3m0YqXBmer3mVIxB0mlE/s1600/DSCN2921.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFAEr6KR2qbltvY31m03ugpSkvV-91wp0v8n50qJXadhlz6FoTyQtC6tBNeI9J6v10yIzyLnUgSSGSUCttxvbB48FVCIvv7X0pnyM29vwZChQE4354BSR53PYE3m0YqXBmer3mVIxB0mlE/s320/DSCN2921.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Italian sugar cookies.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Mom starts the procedures before her transplant on May 16th (the day before my birthday, no less); but until then, she's glad to be home - working in her craft room and sleeping her own bed. She's been especially glad to be able to visit her home church, <a href="http://www.fcoc.net/">Faith Christian Outreach Church</a>, to see all the faithful who've been standing with her in prayer and hope for her total restoration. We all feel blessed to have such loyal, God-fearing brothers and sisters on our side.<br />
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Next stop: TRANSPLANT! :-) Until then...<br />
<br />
<br />
Love and Blessings to You and Yours,<br />
*mandie**Mandie*http://www.blogger.com/profile/15070273168959077565noreply@blogger.com2