Operation Smile: Davao

It is 3am and I cannot sleep.

10 flights, 60 hours of flying, and a 12 hour time change in 12 days sent my body into crazy jet lag.  But well worth it it was!  I had the most incredible time and I don't know that words will ever do justice to the goodness of my first Operation Smile mission.

Being wide awake has given me time to scroll through pictures and replay my journey. 

I don't want to forget any of the details. So much joy, so much love, and so much hope all rolled into one incredible trip.

250 volunteers from 19 countries gathered in Manila and then dispersed to six different sites spanning the Philippines for the "Gift of Smiles" mega mission.  Combined, 1152 infants/children/adults were screened and a grand total of 750 patients were given the gift of a smile! Incredible.

I journeyed to Davao along with others from across the US, Canada, Venezuela, Colombia, Vietnam, India, Kenya, Thailand, and the Philippines.  Our team was comprised of nurses (Pre-Op, OR, PACU, and Post-Op), pediatricians, a pediatric intensivist, anesthesiologists, plastic surgeons, dentist, speech pathologists, a medical records team, biomed, child life specialists, a research team, and three high school students and their sponsor.

Saturday was screening day and each patient was evaluated by all medical entities.

Parents traveled long and far (one walking from 7am to 10pm with two children in tow). They waited long hours, withstood extreme heat, and some even slept outside for the opportunity to have their child evaluated. But, there was never a single complaint. They are fiercely dedicated parents who were so gracious, loving, and appreciative. Each time I stopped to scan the room, I stood in awe at their perseverance.

In Davao, we screened just under 300 patients.

Each was given a priority level and those with the greatest need went first.

By the end of the week, 143 patients underwent surgery.

The need was tremendous and it broke my heart to know that some of the kids were turned away. There was simply not enough time to care for them all. But Operation Smile will return. They are committed to their mission of seeing every cleft repaired.

After the screening was completed and just before surgeries were scheduled to begin, we took time to take in creation by island hopping to Samal Island. It was simply serene. I swam and snorkeled, drank the juice from a just picked coconut, ate fresh grilled tuna, and devoured the juiciest and most divine mangoes! It was as if I stepped into a dream.

But come bright and early Monday morning, the real work began.

Nerves set in as I walked into my job on the post-op ward. As a newbie to Operation Smile, I began to doubt my ability to provide for the patients. As I stood in the ward second guessing my decision to come, I heard the tune of "Amazing Grace." I walked outside and down the stairs and there was a room full of Filipino people being lead by a pastor in a unison singing "Amazing Grace"...in English. In a place where the primary language was Tagalog the familiar words soothed my worried self .

I worked alongside two Filipino nurses and two pediatricians (one from Texas and one from India) to oversee care for the patients after their surgery until they are able to be discharged (most staying either one night or two depending on their surgery). 

It was the place where a small cot and a plastic chair for the parent became a humble abode. Where ice cream was consumed, bubbles were blown, pipe cleaners were twisted into crowns, pictures were colored, new stuffed animals were cuddled, and stickers were as good as gold. 

It was the place where medications were given, vital signs assessed, surgical tape removed, and incisions cleaned. 

Where tears were shed by overjoyed parents as the fear of a life of bullying and rejection was laid to rest. It was the place where a seven year old held tight to her baby sister as she slept. And where a five year old little boy stroked his little sisters head each time she began to whimper. And the place where a twin teenage boy sat arm in arm with his brother helping to hold a cup of water to his just repaired lip.  

It was the place where a mirror took on new life as self admiration was felt for the first time.

It was a place where I was humbled to have the opportunity to witness such vast outpouring of love and pride and hope and thankfulness.

And it wasn't just babies or preschool aged kids, there were teenagers and even a patient my age.  I watched as she slyly took in her new refection. What is must feel like to see oneself in a whole new light. 

When I learned of Addy's cleft, it wasn't a matter of if she would have surgery, but of when. 

But for these parents, finances were tight, access to medical care limited, and resources scarce. Surgery wasn't a given and without Operation Smile, most likely not possible. 

A rather quick surgery was so much more than cosmetic, it leads to better nutrition and speech. It was a chance to raise self esteem, to aid in ending embarrassment, rejection, and social shunning. It can give a child the courage to attend school and the opportunity to dream big for their future.

My heart was so full. 

 The love and dedication of the parents, sibling, and grandparents was deep. 

They were so grateful and so, so appreciative.

But, they had no idea the healing they provided my heart.

Laying on one of the cots was a 15 month old little girl. After coming back from her surgery, her momma perfectly wrapped her in a yellow and white blanket over her grey hospital gown. As I looked down at her, I fought back tears as I envisioned my Addy. This is what she would have looked like. I bent down, stroked her head, kissed her little cheek, and told her momma just how beautiful she was.  It was yet another moment of peace for me. I never got the chance to see my Addy through her repair but for this child I did. It was where I was destined to be. 

I carried my Addy's picture every where I went and shared her story with anyone I could. 

I hope she knows the impact that her life is having.

If it was not for her, I would have never embarked on an Operation Smile mission.

 I am so unbelievable grateful that this opportunity arose. 

And a big, yet unexpected bonus of the trip were my teammates. 

They embraced me and allowed me to share my Addy with them...pictures and all.

 They were welcoming, loving, and compassionate. They supplied me with all the things I forgot from a magical Mary Poppins bag. Together we laughed, took every opportunity we could to take advantage of the $6 - 60 minute messages that were only a tricycle ride away, did our best attempt at singing karaoke, and they embraced my need to order pizza over all the fresh seafood.  As much as I tried, tails, shells, scales, and tentacles were not my thing. 

Different food preferences aside, we had deep and real conversations about life, my most favorite kind. It has become a great passion of mine to get to know people at their core simply because I want you to know who I am at mine. I may not know their favorite color but I know their dreams, there life struggles, and their hopes for the future. Fast and fierce friends we became.  

 

Words are not enough to share the gravity of my experience. 

The most precious patients, the devoted and grateful parents, my embracing team, and now forever friends. It was simple more than I could have ever dreamed. 

This trip far surpassed my 'Year 28 Bucket List' dreams and I know my Addy would be proud. 

It was healing, it was humbling, and it was rejuvenating. 

And so begins the quest for my next mission because hope does not disappoint. 

--------

Just a little sidenote, I took 3 cameras and almost 600 pictures but I wanted to be respectful with what I posted. Most of the patients had a cleft lip repair and their little lips need time for the swelling to subside and the sutures to dissolve. The transformations were dramatic and honestly amazing but out of respect for them, I didn't share any fresh post-op pictures which given where I worked were the majority of my photos. This thing called the internet is huge and it's not my place to share such a pivotal time of healing for all the world to view.

Operation Smile

At 18 weeks pregnant, a sonogram revealed that my Addalyn had a cleft lip and potentially a palate too. The cystic hygroma that was found at 12 weeks had resolved and Addy's only "imperfection" was cosmetic. She was growing (and my belly was too) and just as active as she could be.

I researched all that I could on cleft lips and palates and tried to soak in every bit of knowledge to be as prepared as possible. I knew the plastic surgeon, the surgeries, and the timeline for operation. I knew the nipples and bottles we would need to invest in and the feeding aversion we would potentially face. I knew the possible speech challenges and the dental involvement. I talked with other parents, nurses, and doctors to absorb all that I could. In a pregnancy that had been so far beyond my cookie cutter vision of perfection, a cleft lip and palate was something that could be "fixed."

In my time scowering the internet for all knowledge I could glean, I found myself closing my eyes and attempting to envisioned that moment that I would hand my Addy off for her surgical repair and wait patiently to see her new lip. I tried to imagine what that moment would be like to be reunited. I often questioned if I would recognize her or what the first emotion conjured would be. And a part of me wondered if I would miss the lip that I had come to love.

If you have ventured over to this blog for long, you know that at 24 weeks pregnant (just two days after Christmas 2012), an MRI revealed other complications in Addalyn's development. By 28 weeks, we knew that her life would be limited.

Her time with us was so short, she laid in my arms for mere hours. 

But she was absolutely perfect and I could not be more proud to be her momma. 
And forever her momma I will be.

One of my most favorite features were her lips. 
I traced her cleft lip with my finger more times than I could count and kissed her so sweet mouth over and over. My Addalyn was beautiful.

On my 28th birthday, just three months after her passing, I made a 'Year 28 Bucket List' for myself. I felt empty and hated that I my year would be filled with milestones being marked by the "first ___ without my child." So, I comprised a list of things to accomplish before my 29th birthday. It was my way of giving myself something to look forward to in a year that would undoubtedly be grueling. There were small things and then there were big, big things. I told myself to give it my best effort and if I fall short of accomplishing them all, at least it gave me something to strive for in my valley of darkness.

Again, if you have been here long, you know that in September my world came crashing down on me again. I was depleted and empty and all I could do was pray for hope (Jeremiah 29:11). In my brokenness, I pulled out my 'Year 28 Bucket List' and picked the biggest thing.

To honor my Addy, the biggest box to be checked was to submit an application to volunteer with Operation Smile.  Operation Smile, an organization that I found while researching Addy's cleft lip and palate, provides free surgical repairs to children in need around the world. I skimmed the mission statement and intertwined was a sentence that I haven't been able to get out of my head..."Every child deserves a future filled with hope." 

There is was again...hope...my word, my verse, and my prayer.

In September 2013, I submitted my paperwork to volunteer on an international mission with Operation Smile. Months passed and I hadn't heard back so in April, I called to check on the status of my application. Within one week (and a quick appeal process), I received an email stating that my credentialing had been approved.  Outlined in the email was an explanation that typically it takes up to a year before I would be able to actually board a plane bound for my destination. 

Less than a week later, I was literally on the Operation Smile website scanning upcoming missions when my phone rang. I never answer unknown numbers but for some reason I did and the tears started flowing as the coordinator was looking for a few last minute volunteers. I had prepared my heart to wait another year and this mission was just a mere 5 weeks away...and less than one month before my 29th birthday. Within 24 hours, my time off request had been approved, a few wonderful coworkers agreed to cover a few shifts for me, and all was set. 

There is no other way to describe how it all simply fell into place then God at work. 

In June, I will be traveling with a medical team comprised of Operation Smile volunteers to the Philippines to preform cleft lip and palate repairs. I don't know anyone going but I believe so deeply that this is where God has orchestrated for me to be...for me...to honor the memory of my Addy...to give another momma a moment that I was never able to experience...to pay forward the hope that Christ has renewed in me.

My heart is so full in anticipation for this opportunity.  
This life I am living is not want I had envisioned but my God is a God of hope.

Colorado Roadtrip

I have four little sisters.

To me, they have always been just that…little.

Except for maybe Emily, who is the closest in age to me, I still see the “little girls” as being 6, 7, and 9 years old.

When Abby and Audrey moved in with me in January, I had a very strange moment when in the midst of a having a real life conversation with them, I realized that they are indeed adults. I know they are 23 and 21 and that the baby in the family, Erica, is 20 but to talk about life with them was surreal.

When my life spiraled, there they were in so many capacities. My family and my closest friends have held me when I was at my darkest.  When I could not, they did.

As a way to celebrate the accomplishments of this year (both Abby and Audrey graduated from college), my sisters, mom, and I embarked on our first ever Girls Trip. It was a week of togetherness, of experiencing something new, and of taking in the goodness of God’s creation in Estes Park, Colorado. 

Envisioning a nice and tranquil raft ride, we went white water rafting on the Poudre River in Fort Collins, CO. One of us, who shall remain nameless, managed to fall out of the raft not once but twice. The water level was high, the rapids intense (Class IV…as an inexperienced rafter, I have no idea what that means), and the water only 34 degrees! 

It was an insane 12 mile ride that confirmed something that I have known forever…in our family, I am not nor will I ever be the adrenaline junkie. Although beautiful and exhilarating, I wanted to curl up in a ball at the bottom of the raft but the guide kept yelling “Forward” which was our command to paddle. By the tone of his voice, it was apparent when he too was scared or nervous and I have never been more thrilled to pile into a school bus once we made it to the final destination! 

My mom and sisters enjoyed the ride and I am pretty proud to say that I survived!

More my speed, was hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park. 
We hiked three different trails, totaling 12 miles.

 

Standing at the top of the mountain, I was in awe of the splendor of creation. 

I have felt like I have been climbing a mountain over the past couple of years and to stand at the top and think literally and figuratively about how far I have come was empowering.

 

And naturally, looking around at the bottom of the mountain and at the top and seeing those familiar faces was no surprise. Always there, regardless if it is a peak or a valley. 

And, with every step, my Addy was with us. 
May she know the depth of her momma’s love for her. 

Wherever I go, she goes with me…even if that is at the top of a mountain.

This trip was just what I needed to refuel my soul. 

Laughter, encouragement, and quality girl time does a heart good.

I would love recommendations for favorite vacation destinations.
My head is already spinning with where we could venture next.
#teameagleroadies

5k

Abby and I rolled out of bed way too early for a Saturday and ran a 5K today! 

She has been encouraging me to train with her so a couple of months ago, we signed up for the Global Orphan 5K.

When Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep was featured on Sevenly (read about that here), I saw these tanks and thought they would be perfect for our run to honor my precious Addy! Half of being a runner is looking the part and what better than a "Too Precious to Forget" shirt!

We were a little early so while most people stretched, we kept ourselves entertained. 

Our Brother-In-Law ran too 

(only not with us because his pace was a little swifter than ours).

Our goal was honestly just to finish so we were surprised when our time was 4 minutes faster than our training time! 

Up next, a 10k and then perhaps a half marathon! 

One Point For Life

I have high standards for myself and I know that.

I deeply want to feel "normal" in whatever capacity that is so I push myself, sometimes failing to recognize that even though I want to feel "good" at times there is just too much and that isn't obtainable. It is ok to be sad, to grieve, to feel the hurt. 

There are days, or even weeks, when life just wins.

This week, life is winning.

Sunday was Mother's Day and as much as I tried to tell myself that I was ok, I could feel the hurt and sadness and the weight of that day overtaking me. Through a smile, I stuffed the feelings down hoping that they would just go away and I could celebrate my momma. I was remembered by so many who have faithfully loved me and my role as a momma celebrated. But Mother's Day just doesn't feel like it should. I distracted myself with things...a garden to be planted, flowers to be potted, yard work to be completed, laundry to be done. I went to bed feeling drained and never stopped to address the feelings that were beginning to sink my spirit. 

Monday started off with a bang when I failed to secure the blinder and my morning shake went flying leaving my kitchen a sticky mess and me late for work. My day spiraled and so did my spirit. By the end, I was mad and upset and discontent and resorted to indulging in take-out. 

With suppressed feelings, my weary spirit unraveled today as I went back to my doctor for my yearly appointment. I haven't seen my ob/gyn for a year and let me tell you she is one of my most favorite people...of all time...forever. But sitting in the waiting room, walking the hall, waiting in an exam room that represented such sadness, and then filling my dear doctor in on where my life has gone since I saw her a year ago sent my emotions into overdrive. 

As I walked out, I sat in my car and could hold back no more. The emotions just kept coming. The sobs of sadness, the anger of a life I could not have predicted, the absence of "what should be," and putting myself back in a place that holds such deep feelings was more then I could bare.

A superhero I am not, yet I get upset when I can't handle it all.

I have to give myself grace.
 And to remember that I don't have to have it all together always. 
But mostly, to remind myself that He invites those who are weary and in need of rest to come. 

This week, I am weary.
But God is good and good things are coming...big, big things.
Praise Jesus that He can renew my weary spirit.

Joy > Happiness

Joy > Happiness   

Let me just pause for a moment to give you time to meditate on that. 

{And for your viewing pleasure while doing so, a pic of my family at Abby's graduation.}

I recently began going to a new church. I honestly haven't had a church home since I moved away from the church I grew up in. Life happened and I always found one excuse or another to not get connected. 

It is not exactly easy to walk into a big body of people alone and feel comfortable. I dread small talk because the normal questions one would ask are the type of questions that can send me into a downward spiral of words flying from my lips. 

Ask a simple question...are you married or do you have children...and, has happened on many occasions, I just delve in and certainly over share to the innocent person who asked what they thought to be a normal question.

Much like now, so back to my point.

In preaching on 1 John 1, the pastor discussed the difference between joy and happiness.

Beyond the dictionary definition, his point hit home for me.

I have many times said that I just want be "happy" again. 

But happiness is only a feeling. It comes and it goes. It can be overriding or overtaken.

Joy on the other hand is a foundation. 

To be full of joy doesn't mean that one is always happy. Joy is when you accept that if everything where to be stripped away...say for example your child and your marriage...there is contentment in Christ. To believe that God is bigger than the hurt, loves you more then the pain, and has a plan grander then you could envision. 

I don't want to merely be happy, I want joy.

Joy > Happiness.

 

Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep and Sevenly...

Have you heard of  Sevenly?

If not, you should check it out because this week Sevenly is supporting an organization near and dear to me. For every shirt or product purchased from Sevenly, a portion of the funds will go to help support Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep (NILMDTS).

NILMDTS was founded in 2005 by parents just like me who were left with photos and an empty heart after the passing of their infant son.  The organization, "trains, educates, and mobilizes professional quality photographers to provide beautiful heirloom portraits to families facing the untimely death of an infant." The photographers are volunteers, the services are free to the families, and currently NILMDTS is in all 50 states, 40 countries, and comprised of over 11,000 volunteers. Simply amazing.

Proudly displayed throughout my home are the NILMDTS photographs of my Addalyn taken by Diana. Diana is a local photographer who began volunteering for NILMDTS after experiencing her own heartache. 

After my water unexpectedly broke, Diana was contacted and she arrived at the hospital shortly after Addy's birth. She was armed with her camera and so delicately and loving captured every ounce of my daughter. 

Each and every picture (and I have hundreds) 

is a treasure and they bring me unexplainable joy.

 

 

I will forever be grateful to Diana and to Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep.

 

Feeling

Every time I see my counselor, her first question is always, "Aly, how are you?"

My initial response is always a standard,  "I am good."

She waits a few seconds and follows by saying, "How are you really?"

Sometimes the tears start flowing, sometimes the anger creeps up, and sometimes I am so numb that I don't even know how I am. But for the first time last week, before she even had the chance to utter her follow-up question, I responded "and I think for the first time in a really long time, I mean it."

She looked at me with a smile and the tears welled up in my eyes. 
There were days when I didn't know if I would ever get to a point when I would be able to say that I feel "good." But last week I did and even as I type those words, the tears well thinking about how that feels.

I don't know if it is because the divorce is behind me or because all of the components that constituted our life together have been separated. I don't know if it is because our bedroom has been completely redone into an oasis for me or because the last of his left behind things have found a new home. 

I don't know if it is because it is April and I made it through the first of every milestone without my beloved. Or if it is because of the amazing ways in which my family and friends have kept Addy's memory alive and celebrated her most precious life throughout the year. 

I don't know if it is because of the testimonies that I heard at Hope Spoken or my renewed understanding that my faith, which I have admittedly struggled with over the years, is the foundation of who I am.

I don't know if it is because the sun is shining and the weather is getting warm or because I have enrolled in a photography class, got my very first library card and having taken up reading, because I streamlined my social media outlets, signed up for my first 5k, or because I am planning out my soon to be planted garden.

I don't know what it is but last week, for the first time I truly felt good.
I felt as if my outward expression matched my inner self.

 I know the grief cycle well. 
I know as it spins, my spirit fluctuates with the ebb and flow and my emotions waver. 
So, I want to document last week. The week where I felt good, where I felt strong, and where I felt hopeful.

It is a feeling that I was not sure would ever come and I want to embrace it.