Stacie Lewis’ experience raising hell…
... erm, raising a little girl with severe brain damage. The blog began in 2009 when May was 4 1/2 months old.
Currently, May enjoys bouncing and the dulcet tones of dub step.
Click on May's photo here to link to her best bits, including videos!
Email her or her mama at: email@example.com
WANT MAIL FROM MAMA?
May in the news!
- March 19, 2011 // 56 Comments
- June 21, 2013 // 45 Comments
- November 25, 2011 // 37 Comments
- November 14, 2009 // 36 Comments
- July 18, 2012 // 28 Comments
- November 6, 2012 // 27 Comments
- April 18, 2014 // 2 Comments
- April 16, 2014 // 3 Comments
- April 15, 2014 // 3 Comments
- April 7, 2014 // 5 Comments
- March 31, 2014 // 3 Comments
- By Mama Lewis, April 19, 2014
- By Scott, April 19, 2014
- By Mama Lewis, April 17, 2014
- By Mama Lewis, April 17, 2014
- By Irishmama7, April 17, 2014
Don’t understand a term?Click here: TO SEE MY GLOSSARY!
Posts about May on BabyCenter!
A bit of praise but is it art? CP Info Dealing with Doctors Fun with May Giveaway Hip surgery Hot Air Ieuan Kids all access... London Leukemia Life with a CP Baby Lycra (Supergirl) Suit May vs The Hospital May's History Medical Records Music Not special needs. More like NEED IT. Nursery Physio Potty Training Preschool Seizures Sleep So-called experts Success! This week I'm... Transportation Visual Impairment
In which I talk to 300 doctors and none throw tomatoes
Maybe the doctors of the world are really as polite as they seem. Or, maybe today’s speech went well!
In all seriousness, you might start with the Highlights page. It’s a “best of” of the first year of May’s life. Or, watch the video of May using her walker for the first time, this time with sound (There was a wee bit of technical difficulties, where I failed to use a computer correctly. Thankfully, using a computer is not an essential part of my livelihood or anything).
For the rest of you, here is a little taster of the speech:
As doctors, I know you don’t want me to stop working with my daughter. You don’t want me to give up all hope. You want me to stimulate her and attend to her needs and development. But, here is the thing: we patients believe you. Yes. It’s a fact. We have been taught our whole lives that you speak the truth.
So, when one of your colleagues told me: “Your child is essentially blind. There is nothing you can do.” I believed them.
Perhaps, I’m obstinate or in denial, but despite his assessment, I couldn’t give up on May seeing just that little bit better than she was. Now, she attends a clinic at Great Ormond Street where they help her to see within the limits of her abilities.
Sight is no small thing. A little bit better could help May a lot.
But the same week I was told May was blind, another parent heard the exact same thing from the exact same doctor. This is a true story. The parent sees the same SALT I do. The SALT told me she phoned this parent every day, begging her to let her see her child. The mother said, “The doctors told me there is nothing we can do for her.” The SALT could not convince her otherwise.
We believe you.
I know my daughter very well. I’m not in denial about her abilities. I don’t need a reality check. But, a little bit of encouragement goes a long way.
Wish you’d all been there to hear the rest. They were very receptive. I enjoyed myself. Though I did send my husband a text an hour beforehand saying, “vomitous vomitous” – which I’m sure is a real medical affliction.
Job done. Thank you all for your help. Celebratory beer in hand.