Tag Archives: Adelaide

March 15, 2013 · 7:27 am

Using my Feet

Is anyone else having a hard time focusing? It’s hot, it’s cold, it’s warm and rainy or sunny and snowing. What is happening?! Beyond the weather driving my headaches to the breaking point and my dog to chase his tail- I am ready to battle the out of doors: FEET FIRST!

This Spring I was certain I would have a few half-marathons lined up… alas, they are both expensive and time consuming and with my milk supply already dwindling with each extra mile I push myself, I can’t risk too much training at the sake of my darling Adelaide. And so… I have banded together with some awesome people to run, walk and sit for some things that are close to my heart- literally.

The two events I have coming up mean more to me than most would understand. I speak of my father often; a man dying too young, leaving his wife and four children far too soon. I like to imagine him coaching my little brother in ice hockey up there in the big blue sky, instead of deep in the ground. What I hate to imagine more, is Addie losing her Daddy to cancer, as I lost mine. That is a story which I’m sure I will tell time and time again, as April 21st passes every year- no matter how hard I will myself to sleep through it. What you might not know, is that my cousin Allyson will be 18 forever. After a battle with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, she lost her life at Bowman Gray Hospital in North Carolina. That was 17 years ago. There are stories that have been told about the events after her death. How hard it was for my aunt to lose her only child, and right after her high school graduation. How everyone felt so alone- lost in their own thoughts and afraid to ask those around us if they were OK. None of us felt OK. Sometimes, we still don’t. There is much to be told about the loss of a child, but not much you want to say. We will always love you, Allyson. You and Jonathan are my guardian angels.

My baby brother and my cousin, Allyson

My baby brother and my cousin, Allyson

Fast forward a few years from tragedy. My Mom was reinventing herself. She’s always been amazing, but now she was ready to take it to a whole other level. She was ready to be a runner. She signed up with Team in Training in Philadelphia and did 26.2 miles (a full marathon!) in Disney in 2001. Yeah, she’s amazing and inspiring. So inspiring that when I saw a TnT mailer on my dining room table in 2010, I immediately checked off the box that coincided with the informational meeting I was able to attend. Hearing the past participants talk and meeting the coaching staff was amazing. Coaches I would get as a bonus for running!? Yes please! I had already run my first half- a pitiful display in Philly’s ING Rock ‘n Roll.

Worth-women running!

Worth-women running!

Philly ING

It was hot and I was fresh off cigarettes… and it showed. That was September 2010. I wanted my next display to be amazing! So in May of 2011 I ran the Cox Half Marathon with my new teammates. I loved every mile! I knew I would sign up for more.

Coxhalf

The next Team event I ran was the inaugural ING Rock ‘n Roll Half Marathon in Providence. In August. Being what Rhode Island is (Hell), the weather was terrible, but it truly reflected my spirits. I had just had a miscarriage and was still feeling pretty terrible emotionally. I had not trained since the morning of July 22, 2011 when I woke up and I wasn’t part of that longed for group of expectant moms anymore. Those weeks I had sat there, waiting for my doctor to call and tell me that there was a mistake, were just weeks I was not training. I laced up two days before the race for a short run and I was badly winded. None-the-less, I gathered up what was left of me, and put on my purple shirt for the race.

IMAG0903

My favorite part of Team in Training is the camaraderie. There are people EVERYWHERE that yell “GO TEAM!” as you run past. You know what? They’re cheering for you! I love this sport, but more than anything, I love taking part in it as a member of TnT.

Rock n Roll PVD

As I ran the umpteenth hill Providence threw at me, I came up on another purple shirt. He was not someone I had trained with. Chris was from another group, but he was one of my kind! We met up with each other as the hill seemed to gather all it had to keep us stationary. Suddenly, back and forth, we began to encourage each other. We made it to the plateau, and we ran the rest of the way together. Chris’ mom (insanely beautiful from her pictures and one of the most special women I’ve ever heard about) had recently passed from cancer. Chris was running for her. He was going to finish this race because he had to. We all have to do what we have to do to make it through what life hands us. I felt like I was losing my grip on happiness, so I ran. Chris had lost the most amazing woman most men ever know, so he ran. And us? We ran together. We ran though shallow breaths, each gasping for air we thought might not come. Yelling out encouragement as we passed the mile markers, we would tell the other to go ahead, but neither one budged from the other person’s side. We chose to tell each other stories of our loved ones past, and I told him I’d recently lost a pregnancy. A total stranger, Chris looked at me with his big brown eyes like he was trying to take some of the pain away for me. Running in purple led me to meet a friend I will always cherish. He may be a New Yorker and like the Rangers (lame), but this Flyers’ fan still thinks the world of him.

Chelley and Chris

And that leads me to my first race post-baby: Cox 5k. How does one go from 13.1 miles to 3.1? They have a baby and take a year off. That being said, I am SO happy to be back in my purple shirt! As with every season, there is an honored patient. I am proud to run for them, but I choose to honor my own hero. She goes by the name of Belle. Please read about her HERE. I immediately broke in two when I heard she was the daughter of a fellow blogging mama right here in my (now) home state. I knew I had to lace up again to try and fight this battle to win this war- to find a cure for leukemia. And so, I will be running my 5k on May 11, 2013. I have a fundraising page HERE, but I’ve already met my goal. While I encourage everyone to keep donating- everything over the goal is just a bonus for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (LLS) and runners like me love over-accomplishing our goals, but I’d also like you to consider making a donation directly to Belle and her family HERE.

This past weekend I had the honor of meeting Belle. She was the first to greet me at the door of another friend’s birthday. Her beautiful face is what struck me. Hiding behind her full cheeks was a smile that swept across her face as she ran to her equally stunning mom, Melissa. At this event I got to talk with Melissa, who is both mentally and physically strong. Sometimes we say someone is strong because there isn’t a better adjective to describe their character. In this case, this woman is breathtakingly strong. Her ability to keep calm and positive, even on the bad days encourages me to tie my darn sneakers, plug  in the treadmill and spend nap time running- I can always shower later. Belle needs me to run, now.

For the next few years of Belle’s life, she will fight the ultimate war within her own body. I ask you to help me however you feel comfortable, to donate what you can to help this cause. Donate, blog about, share on social media sites. What can you do to help? Team in Training, Sit-a-Thon or check out this event the Rhody Bloggers For Good are hosting:

Sit-a-Thon Flyer

Lastly, my amazing blogging ladies (myself included) will be walking for the American Heart Association. So many of us women don’t remember  our tickers, and often, we are the ones who have undiagnosed heart conditions. Our team is HERE. I am so excited to participate in this event! This is our mission:

Imagine the impact if we reduce death and disability from cardiovascular diseases and stroke by 20% by 2020! Our team is joining the American Heart Association’s Heart Walk to promote physical activity to build healthier lives, free of cardiovascular diseases and stroke. Please Join Our Team! Help us reach this lifesaving goal!

Thank you for joining me in my Spring of He(alth)(lping Others)! My plate is full, but I am so thankful for each bite. Or in this case, step!

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September 4, 2012 · 10:30 am

Achon Gerber Baby?

Adelaide is entered in the Gerber Generation Photo Search! She is adorable, and her little smile fills up my heart! I hope you feel the same way!

PLEASE CLICK TO VOTE FOR HER!!!!

First achondroplastic baby to be a Gerber baby?! I think YES!!!! Vote for Adelaide!!!!!!!!!!!

You and your friends can vote once a day every day from September 4th for Adelaide to win a $10,000 Gerber Life College Plan!

Thank you, in advance for your support!

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August 28, 2012 · 4:31 pm

Sleep Study. Take I.

First, HAPPY 19 WEEKS MISS ADELAIDE!!!!
a picture from our sleep study intake visit:

5am in August always feels like summer camp to me. It’s humid and sticky, but the air is cold on my skin. Something in the wind smells like a vague cleaning product. My stomach growls with hunger, but I’m too tired to get food. Getting up irrationally early during the summer seems to defeat the purpose of summer break; however, I’m 27, not 17. My summer break days are over.

Dave and I set out clothes out the night before. We crept out of the bedroom at 4am, like high school kids trying to not wake our parents. Only we are the parents, trying to not wake the baby! We delicately danced around the house, Dave making coffee, and me sitting in the dining room to pump. We bumped into each other in the most ungracious ways while navigating the bathroom without contacts. We gathered up every toy Addie likes, a change of clothes, and some milk for our sleeping girl and loaded everything into the car. Then I gently lifted Addie from the Rock n’ Play, next to our bed, and carried her to my Escape. What a non-fitting name.

Addie’s sleep study intake appointment was an hour and a half drive, each way. We had to take 2 cars so Dave could go right to work after the appointment, in the complete opposite direction from home. Tucking Addie into her seat with Snugglepuppy, I climbed into my car to follow Dave, gently reminding him that we are not driving on a racetrack.

Enjoying the silence of the morning, I rolled into the closest gas station (newly converted from a BP to a Getty), and handed over the last of my life savings into my tank. We then began our journey to Waltham.

I looked at her in my rear view mirror as we neared the hospital. With a half hour drive still ahead, I realized she was awake, and looking around- not unhappy, just checking everything out! I remembered childhood memories of waking up in the car, early in the morning and late at night, coming from and going on vacations. Such beautiful memories of pretending to be asleep as my Dad carried me into a strange house that smelled of clean sheets and the ocean- so excited to wake up to the beach and boardwalk of Ocean City, New Jersey. As I stared into my mirror, I wished this was a memory for Addie. I want her to wake up in her pajamas on the way to the beach, not to an early appointment, but I realize, she may just have to have memories of both.

Oddly, Hasboro Children’s Hospital does not do sleep studies for children under the age of one, so we were heading to the Waltham branch of Boston’s Children’s Hospital. I was nervous to be traveling so far with her, to an unknown doctor, but when we arrived, I was at ease. The directions were great, and the signage was perfect! As we entered the Neurology Department, Dave sat down to give Addie her breakfast (mmmm, milk!) and I headed to the desk to fill out all the paper work. We were promptly called into the exam room and asked a lot of questions. Addie was stripped down to her diaper and the doctor did the usual poke, prod, listen, squeeze, stretch, measure, check with a light and recheck with a light and a stick, squeeze again, roll over, get in the face, play with a light, listen again routine.

“She looks great!” the doctor declared. He stepped out to wait for Dr. Kothare to come into the room. Addie waited patiently with Daddy!

We learned that there are three things that will be checked during Addie’s sleep study, which are more common in children with achondroplasia, and I must admit, sometimes not knowing is much more comforting than knowing.  First, the doctors will check for sleep apnea, where she stops breathing for 10-20 seconds at a time from the weight of her head and other differences in organ sizes (et cetera) from AH children. Second, the doctors will be looking for central sleep apnea, where your brain actually sends the message to your body to stop breathing. Third, tests will be done to determine if Addie is getting good air. This means that the levels of carbon dioxide will be measured to make sure she is holding enough to sustain her.

I did not know the body would ever tell itself to stop breathing. There have been a few nights since our intake appointment that I have picked her up out of her bassinet and held her to me, skin-to-skin, like the first days after she came home. I’ve asked her to promise me to wake up. I’ve shed tears that I couldn’t have stopped for all the money in the world and stars in the sky.

Her actual sleep study is September 3, in downtown Boston, and because they’re only done during the week, I will be there with her alone. It is a lot for a parent who is not doing it alone, to be left alone to do most of the parenting and I am so thankful that Dave was with me when we got her examined… However, I am terrified to go to Boston alone, sleep alone, and watch Addie get hooked up alone. I lean on my husband for support that I don’t even know he gives until he can’t be there. I can’t imagine being a single parent for so many reasons; someone to dry my tears is one of them.

On days where Addie gets shots, when the insurance company calls to deny me again, when I can’t find my keys or forget the safe place I put something but now can’t find- that’s when I miss Dave the most. I know that someday he won’t have to work so much, and he won’t have the two hour commute everyday, but I wish that day was now.

I’m hoping for good results, so I can rest easy (literally)… at least until her next sleep study in a year!

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August 7, 2012 · 12:08 am

Is it hot in here, or is it just me

by Adelaide

Dear Mom,
Is it hot in here, or is it just me?

You always tell me I’m a bakery- full  of rolls. And you tell me to cook you some smiles. But I’ll tell you something: it’s too darn hot to bake or cook!

Instead, let’s try these fun things: community pool, walks in the park, chillin’ in my tent, Babies and Books, Baby Pictures , Story Time, mommy group with RI New Moms, or, my favorite, snuggling in the AC in the bedroom.

Til then, Mommy, I might not be cooking as many smiles, but I’ll always have a bakery full of rolls. It’s definitely hot in here… and I don’t think it’s just me, I think  it’s us!

Love,
Adelaide

____________________________________________________________

On a side note…

Achondroplasic children have lots and lots of rolls and tend to run at a hotter temperature. Rolls and sweat and humidity, OH MY! Addie and I have been doing some good things outside of the house to stay cool, but darn, it’s hard when she breaks a sweat going from the house to the car.

We have been using powder in her pits and wearing minimal outfits when we venture out and it’s working great for us. We also LOVE to go grocery shopping each day for two or three things we need for dinner. While there we walk up and down each aisle to enjoy the free air conditioning and learn about veggies, sauces, baking, spices and sauces! Learning and keeping my kitchen (baby) cool is always a plus.

And so, in response:

Dear Addie,
I love you so much, and you are the best chef and baker I’ve ever met.

Your rolls are so delicious and your smiles so tasty.

Please stay in the kitchen just a bit longer, so Mommy and Daddy can enjoy all your yummy treats.

Love,
Mamamamamamamama

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August 2, 2012 · 2:42 pm

3 Years

Dave and I were married 3 years ago.

When I woke up, the sky was grey, dark and WET! When I say wet, I mean people couldn’t get to their hotels, streets were closed, my car needed to be moved to prevent water from coming into the doors. Our ceremony was moved from the backyard to the reception site. The wedding was delayed by an hour. 4.5 inches of rain fell on our wedding day- meaning we are the luckiest couple ever.

Three years later, I see where that luck came into play. Adelaide Eileen.

Dimery Photography 
(Michelle takes the most beautiful family and child photographs. She will find the most intimate moments between you and your child, and every little smile and sparkle in their eyes. Call her to get the best family photographer!)

Our little beauty came into this world April 17th, and changed our lives forever. Can we thank the rain for all of the joy and beauty that is she? Yep- all the rain and the genes of two fine looking individuals! We can certainly relish in the downpour that was August 2, 2009; a beautiful day that led us to the creation of such a little beauty.

I want my dear husband to know he means the world to us. I am blessed that he is my partner in crime, Addie is, as well, for having such a loving and dedicated daddy. We may not see him as much as we’d like, but he supports us, and we know that there are more days ahead of us to spend together!

Here are a few of my favorites from our big day! Thank you Mike from Allebach Photography! (MIKE WILL TRAVEL! His photography captures ever tender moment between you and your loved one and every group dance party. Got a wedding to plan? CALL MIKE!)

And, as far as the most moving part of the day for me… my father/daughter dance. My Dad died April 21,1998, and dancing with my step-dad meant the world to me. Mike took some wonderful pictures of the dance, like this one, that shows me gripping onto Al. I felt like my Dad was right there with me, holding onto the little girl I once was.

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July 20, 2012 · 5:34 pm

Is it the weekend, yet?

What a roller coaster week! If I never hear the word “no” again, it will be too soon.

I’ve spoken with numerous people, and by the blessings of the Universe, our case is in the Research Department of UnitedHealthcare. I’ve spent hours on the phone, mostly on hold… and when I’m not on hold, I’m spelling ” dysplasia” and “achondroplasia” and “Adelaide” for someone who doesn’t understand why she needs to see a specialist.  A woman actually scoffed at the idea that Addie needed to go “all the way to Delaware”. If that wasn’t insult enough, she asked me if I could get an appointment in Delaware, was I willing to travel. What kind of question is that? OF COURSE I’d be willing to travel- she’s my baby! I’d swim across the English Channel with her on my back, if need be.

So, this week was very frustrating, and I’ve wracked up minutes upon hours of cellphone use…

And I’ve made more connections and friendships  than we could ever hope for.

There has been a love and outpouring from a community, better known as the world, to help Dave and me with making sure that Addie can get the care she needs.  Word-of-mouth, Facebook, website shares and emails have helped us raise funding so that we can get Addie to NemoursAlfred I. duPont.  Knowing we will need to put down a deposit to even make an appointment and pay for a majority of the testing before we leave was making my stomach turn, but I took the advice of a few moms and posted a fundraising website.

And there was an outpouring.  Not just love from friends and family, but kindness from total strangers- people following Addie’s story and loving her without ever meeting her.

This beautiful baby cannot express her thanks, but we, the Martinka’s want you to know that we will forever remember everyone who helps us along the way.  We know that we will always need someone to talk to; ask questions or share a hug, but we are hoping to pay all the support we’ve gotten forward. We hope to make a difference for everyone out there who has no insurance, or insufficient insurance. We want people to be aware of dwarfism, and know that each of our children need to be cared for individually- and though they may need different care than other children, they have just as much right to it!

We will share the story of the first few months of her life with Addie over and over as she gets older. She will know the love that she has surrounding her- those who have never met her, those who have yet to and those who have kissed her little toes and smelled her sweet breath- thank you.

It’s a small blessing that the weekend means no one will answer the phones or give you an answer to any questions because the right person “isn’t in the office”, so here’s to the weekend. Here’s to community. Here’s to banding together for our beautiful Adelaide.

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July 17, 2012 · 9:22 pm

Brass Tacks

When you boil it down, there is a ton of information about parenting; breast feeding, diapering, scheduling, milestones, sleep patterns, bathing tips, birthday party ideas… these things rule the Mommy World on the internet.  But where is the information for a child who is not average? You know… the child who is above average, but below in height? Where is the information for children with dwarfism? And if you can’t find anything more than general information about dwarfism, let’s make the search easier, and pin point what we’re looking for: achondroplasia.

There are a ton of “facts”, and “the genetic workings” are explained in detail, but the deeper details, multitude of growth and development charts, information on specific spinal development, and what toys, carriers and car seats work best. Where is that information?

Well, it’s not there.

It’s not in Parenting, Parents, American Baby, Family Circle, Disney Family, OR at your geneticist’s office.  It’s not that I’m angry, I’m just confused and deterred. Who do you ask if the doctors don’t know?

I love nice people as much as the next gal, but when I want answers, I want answers. I  don’t necessarily care if a doctor is nice when there is no information in hand. It’s not a hard concept- I want to know all there is to know about everything there is to know ,so that Dave and I can raise Addie in the best way possible for her and her needs, while not forgetting our own. We are good parents doing a lot of research, spending time and energy on excavating information that a working doctor does not have time to seek. Except, the one doctor I hoped would know enough to answer questions I had without reading an article she presented to me weeks ago.

I am wholly aware that I need to be Addie’s best advocate, but is there anyone out there who will help me?

The most helpful information I got from the geneticist: Addie’s measurements. For which I provided the growth charts to be plotted upon.
…And provided the accurate reading of said charts- as the assistant, a pediatric specialist, seemed unable to read the caption under the chart stating which lines were for Achondroplastics and which were for AH children.

And so, I guess I’m really just relieved that I did a ton of research so that I could tell the doctor what she was missing, and so I knew what questions I need to delve into further with the right people. But, who are the right people?

I’m hoping to find some answers in Delaware… insurance pending. Insurance; I believe that would be a whole other blog!

On a happy note: HAPPY THREE MONTHS TO THIS BEAUTIFUL BABY GIRL!!


Thank you, one million times over, to the wonderful parents I’ve connected with who have given me more than advice- they have shared all of their medical knowledge with me- making disappointment easier to handle.  When I can’t find the exact answer I need, I know I can gain  a wealth of medical information from moms and dads who have walked the line before me.  Thank you. Thank you so much for sharing with me and helping me navigate my way as a new mom!

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July 13, 2012 · 11:46 am

Painful

A lesbian and an alcoholic walk onto a stage set…

Sounds like the start to a terrible, demeaning joke.
It is. But no one was joking about homosexuality, or being a drunk.

I hate to focus on the negative, as that is precisely what I’m trying  to overcome, but when I see this kind of train wreck, it’s hard to look away. It’s even harder to explain. There are “educated” people out there who believe themselves so righteous that they can mock another human’s right to live a normal (see: average) existence, job skills, sexuality, abilities and height based on their [alleged] phobia?

Build a bridge, ladies… then jump off. Please. For the sake of man kind, both tall and small.
Aren’t there enough self-fulfilling prophesies out there? Are there not enough people on talk shows that already hate themselves- so much so that they target others?

I find the best comedians, the ones with real talent, are the ones that can bring you to tears not making fun of a specific group of people. Rosie, you’re gay. Yay! for you. Chelsea, you’re a drunk. Yay! for you. Let me offer you both  a medal of honor. Both women have their differences out in the public eye because they chose to share. Addie and thousands of other little people never have the option to hide their difference if they want to. Walking into a room and choosing who to let in on an intimate detail of their life is not something they will decide upon, yet people choose to  mock.

Dwarfism awareness is being adopted by states, albeit rather slowly, and yet there are still such nasty people. It’s wrong to mock the gay community- I agree, wholeheartedly. And alcoholics should be nurtured to gain control of their disease, although if self-loathing jokes are what helps for now, good luck. No one can make an addict go to rehab. Does the community consisting of little people, their parents, friends, relatives and peers not deserve the same respect? Live and let live.

Let me tell you a secret, ladies. Addie, and all the other little people you so fear, can in fact get jobs; the first female president with dwarfism was just born, you see on April 17, 2012.

And thus, I have seen this video.  I actually viewed it for the first time the day Addie was diagnosed, sitting in my chair-converted-bed at Hasboro, holding my sick little girl and wondering what this unrelated, lifelong diagnosis had in store for her. Being a new parent is challenging. Having a sick baby is hard. Being in the hospital with a sick child is painful. Having your whole world (ultimately, your child’s world) change in a day, while in the hospital with a sick child is mind boggling.

Perhaps spreading this video is promoting its evil, but my true intentions are to show people who have similar feelings how ridiculous they sound coming out of the  mouth of others. There is a slew of videos lashing out at Oprah’s network for airing this, as well as to Rosie and Chelsea Handler- please search them, and heed their words: this video is ignorant, does not and will not ever describe little people and will not be tolerated anymore.

Concluding my rage and sadness, I watch Addie’s breath come in and out and her back rises and falls. Her chest puffing out into mine as she sleeps on me. She’s not your average  baby-she’s so much more, and I am blessed to have her. I breathe in as I gently kiss the top of her head, smelling her freshly washed hair, smile and breathe out.

Being surrounded by so many good people and a new community of friends- I feel sorry for people like Rosie and Chelsea. Not for being gay. Not for being drunk. Stupid. I’m so sorry they’re stupid.

And, for some inspiration, strength and a good education, check out this amazing 10-year old, Alex!

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July 6, 2012 · 10:16 am

I Knew Before You Told Me

From the moment she was born, I knew she was different. Adelaide Eileen was born at only 18 inches, with my button nose and crooked pinkies. What she was born without was what caught my eye.

27 years ago I came flying into this world with a shock of dark hair, flailing all 21 inches of my body in a fury weighing just shy of 5 1/2 pounds.  During the 3 hours I pushed with Addie, I remember seeing her dark hair, feeling her head and then seeing her little body.  She looked just like me, but, to be honest, squat. I held my little ball of baby, loving all over her and sharing with no one.

I wanted to ask the doctors a million questions- I was shocked the next day when her pediatrician measured her at 18 inches.
I knew before I asked.  I knew she was my genetic miracle. Our little package of jumbled up genes that was perfectly delivered to us.

A daughter holds her mother’s hand for a while and her heart forever.

I was so tired, but I couldn’t stop staring. She was the most beautiful human I’d ever seen.
Watching her grow, or not, led me to think something was up- but you only think to ask the doctors a question if you think there is something wrong. In my heart of hearts I knew there was nothing wrong, just different about my little Addie. Then I read all about it. Her head was big. I was so scared. Could she have hydrocephalus? I researched all I could. I took Addie to her 2 month appointment and mentioned it to the nurse doing her measurements. She inferred that it was something she was going to mention anyway, due to her head circumference growing, and my heart sank.  I wanted to hear “don’t worry about it.” But, as you know from my first post, we ended up leaving that appointment with a script for a ultrasound of her head and x-rays of her long bones.

I took her home, undressed her and examined every inch. I saw her inner thighs and how small her hands were. The non-existent bridge of her nose. The way her legs bowed out. I saw her face, with those shining, deep violet eyes staring up at me. And she’s perfect.

After her diagnosis, Dave and I told a few people. Looking for initial reactions- a way to gauge our responses to people and learn what kind of reactions we would be fielding. And, as if getting unexpected news wasn’t confusing enough, the other shoe dropped.
People said they were sorry. Dave and I found ourselves trying to stop people from saying the wrong thing. Did we tell the wrong close friends? Was it something we said?

Nothing is wrong with her. Why are you sorry? We’re not.
It’s not unfortunate. We’re beyond fortunate to have  be chosen by this baby girl.

I knew she was the most beautiful girl from the moment she was born. She is loved to the core- and being so small, that’s a lot of love per inch!

I knew before they told me. I knew she was going to be the best thing to ever happen to me. I knew it. And I love every little bit.

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July 4, 2012 · 3:34 pm

Corporate America. There’s Hope.

I was disappointed.  Using a baby carrier was amazing to me. I was a baby wearing mama. Holding my little girl to me while I did everything from the dishes to walking the puppy, felt so pure and natural to me. I love the Bjorn which has more support, but the organic look and feel of the K’Tan was just what I wanted, and I was lucky enough to have a friend who purchased it for me!  I used it once, but Addie was so scrunched in it, I decided to wait to use it for a few weeks; then we learned she was an achon baby, and my little miracle could not use a carrier.

Scrunched Addie (see above)

No carrier.

I walked into the small local shop where I got the K’Tan. I explained that for medical reasons Addie would not be able to use it, and that it was clean, had all the pieces, it was in the box and had the instructions and warranty card.  The woman behind the desk glanced at me, her eyes darted to Addie, then to a piece of paper, where she was writing a note. “Your name and number. “ *** “I’ll ask the owner and call you later, but I already know the answer is ‘no’. We don’t take anything back that’s been out of the box.”  I was confused, as the carrier is clean, and there is one in the store, on display- out of the box, that they will sell. I assured the woman that I just wanted store credit, but she seemed to be distracted, so I wheeled the stroller in a k-turn motion and walked out.

I left the shop feeling dejected.  I would have loved to shop in this store again- support a local business. I was sure that the owner would call, or understand, but a message, “Hi Chelley, this is Xxxxx from Xxx XxXx, I spoke with the owner and we can’t take it back. Sorry. Bye.” Short, not sweet and not helpful. Instead of helping a local mom at an already difficult time, the almighty dollar takes the cake.  Instead of spending a few hundred there over the next few years, they made $74 on one sale. One time and one time only.  What a disappointment.  I would wanted a call from the owner (this truly is a small business)- to perhaps speak with her.  In a small state, like Rhode Island, all the business you can get includes everyone, right?

Please know that I am married to a small business owner. The business is my husband’s passion: music. Often times he has had to turn people away from full-fledged returns in favor of store credit, but he always takes the time to discuss issues with his customers- and speaks to them personally. To be told, “no”, was a lot to take, especially because the woman I had spoken to was so sharp with me and didn’t seem to hear what I was saying. I love the carrier, but medically I can’t use it. Isn’t the human condition a benefit here? The rules can be changed. Exceptions can be made. But, you have to listen.

And not I have to make the request that  no one give Addie gifts from small shops… clearly they cannot bend to be helpful to a new mom who is in apparent distress. As people serving people, looking up to see your customers, instead of down at your phone/keyboard/notepad, would go a long way. Sometimes you just want to know you were heard before a decision is passed down.

At the end of this debacle, I posted the carrier on line for a fraction of the price… and my big sister saved the day. A new mommy herself, she posted on Facebook and asked around, finding a buyer!

Sadly, however, this was just one of the few items that I was told “no” to on behalf of Addie.

Which brings me to Babies R’ Us in Warwick, RI.  I originally loved the idea of registering at only small shops, but knew we would need far reaching locations due to my family being all over the east coast (and some on the west, too!)- so BRU it was! I’ve been so happy with their assistance in returns and exchanges since the baby showers, and for this alone I was so grateful.

The Baby Einstein Bouncer was awesome! I remember seeing it and wanting it immediately; colors, lights, music and a ton of tactile activities. I was sure Addie would love it as much as I would.  Alas, this was not to be so.  Not a big deal to return, right? Wrong!!!

The box that the bouncer came in was cumbersome, so we took the inside boxes out of it and tossed the main packaging into recycling months ago; a small blessing that we never put it together. Driving to the store with Dave, he was convinced they would not take it back, while I was plotting my steps from pleading with the manager to writing corporate. We loaded our returns into a cart, including the pieces of the bouncer.

As we stood in line, I was already frustrated. Why do I have to explain things, why can’t “due to a medical condition” just be enough? I walked up to the counter with my cart full of stuff and explained, “I’d like to return some toys. I’m sorry I don’t have the main box for the bouncer, but it’s never been put together.” Michaela smiled at me and asked if we had been registered there. I felt the need to continue, “I really love the bouncer, but for medical reasons Addie can’t use it.” She glanced up from typing in my information and warmly smiled again. “No problem”, she said. While making small talk and commenting on how adorable Addie is and how she hopes she is OK, the sales associate scanned my registry info, found the bouncer, scanned the rest of my stuff, swiped a merchandise return card, handed it and the receipt to me and wished me a nice day.

I walked over to Dave, who was feeding Addie her favorite [and only food], Mommy Milk, and wanted to cry. I was so pent up, convinced that the world was against me. That, already, there were issues that would hinder Addie, but Babies R’ Us proved me wrong. A corporation caring about its customers, though I’m sure not always the case, has brought some light to the sadness I feel having to return toys that are not good for our beautiful little girl.

We got this beautiful elephant, a mirror, finger puppets, 2 books and an impression kit for Addie’s hands and feet with the credit. I think these will be great to help Addie’s development for touch and vision. I’m so excited to play with her new toys and help her develop at her own pace in a fun way!

Knowing that I shouldn’t give up on the world lending a hand is a good feeling- especially because this is just the beginning of a long road.

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