First Day of Second Grade – Mommy of a Miracle

One of the hardest decisions on Isabella’s journey has been the decision to homeschool her.  It was honestly something that I never even thought of or considered until her medical team recommended it last year. The decision to homeschool was one of the hardest I have ever made. I knew it was the right choice for Isabella.  When it comes to her I will do anything to help.

Last year, once Isabella realized that we were going to do “work” at home she excelled.  Isabella loves to learn and that smile just lights up the room.  As Isabella’s regression set in, the one thing that she was consistent in was her “work”.   I was so happy that Isabella continued to thrive academically.  When the Hyperbaric Oxygen Treatment (HBOT) stopped, Isabella quickly went from regressing to a downward spiral.  It was heartbreaking to watch Isabella lose skills that she had mastered and worked so hard to achieve.  It frustrated Isabella because she knew that she had already learned certain things and yet she was unable to remember.  As this past summer approached, Isabella and I worked every day to maintain what skills she still had in hopes of preventing further loss.  No matter how hard and challenging it was for Isabella, she was always excited to do her “work”.

As August approached, Isabella and I started talking about second grade “work”.  Isabella would ask with excitement about all the new things she would learn.  On Labor Day weekend we redid our “work” area in preparation for the “First Day of Second Grade”.   As I watched the excitement and joy in Isabella’s eyes, I thought this is how school is supposed to be for a second grader.  It is not supposed to be like last year- filled with terror, crying, screaming and aggression.  I always knew that I made the right decision but seeing that excitement in Isabella for second grade solidified my choice.

The “First Day of Second Grade” finally arrived.  Isabella was ready to do her “work” the moment her eyes opened.  I can’t express enough, how even though Isabella continues to regress in so many areas, it is a true blessing to see that her love for learning is still there. It continues to be our silver lining.  As we embark on another year of learning, I am excited to see how far Isabella will go.

Homeschooling was one of the hardest decisions on this journey and yet it has now become one of the best decisions.  In true Isabella fashion, she does things her way.  Isabella does not follow the path of everyone else, she is unique and likes to make her own path.  For that I am forever grateful.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURESGuest Blogger, Kristin Olliney-Apruzzese, is the mother of 8-year-old Isabella, who suffered sudden acute encephalitis when she was just 4. Kristin’s bi-monthly blog, Mommy of a Miracle, talks about the trials and joys of raising a brain injury survivor.

Legal Statement: The information contained in this blog does not reflect the specific views of BIA-MA. This blog is published for informational purposes only. BIA-MA is not providing medical, legal or other professional advice with its publication.

College Bound – Wishing our Ambassadors an Amazing Experience !

We have been so fortunate to know Sean Rowell and Madeline Uretsky at the BIA-MA. They are both amazing people and have been wonderful additions to our Ambassador Program. If you have not heard about our Ambassador Program it is comprised of  volunteer speakers who have either sustained a brain injury or have a loved one with a brain injury. The speakers vary in age and experience, but all share a desire to tell their stories to help others avoid this devastating tragedy. Sean and Madeline have both been part of our are program after they sustained their injuries.

If you would like to become an Ambassador please contact us at 508-475-0032 and ask to speak with our Ambassador Program Coordinator !

Sean Rowell_SlopesCongrats Sean Rowell !!

This spring Ambassador Sean Rowell graduated from St. John’s High School in Shrewsbury and will be attending Georgetown University.  Sean began speaking for our program in August of 2010.  Sean suffered his brain injury from a snowboarding accident at Loon Mountain.

Sean has made a number of speeches as an Ambassador.  This year, Sean was a panel presenter at our Annual Conference.  He has spoken to numerous clubs and organizations throughout the state, including,  the Worcester Rotary Club, Millis High School, Wilmington Rotary Club, Marlborough Rotary Club, Chelmsford Rotary Club, Stow Parent Teacher Organization and Fitchburg Rotary Club. The Wilmington Rotary Club invited Sean to also present to their High School Interact Program.

After his accident, Sean became certified to teach for the New England Disabled Sports Program at Loon Mountain.  As a coach, Sean guides guests in the snow sport of their choice on the mountain.   Through his assistance, Sean enables the students to experience the thrills and independence of skiing.

BIA-MA would like to sincerely thank Sean for all his accomplishments and association with our organization.  We wish him the best of luck in his studies and would like him to continue to be a friend of the BIA-MA.

Madeline

Congrats Madeline Uretsky !!

This spring, Ambassador, Madeline Uretsky, graduated from Bishop Fenwick High School in Peabody and will be attending Simmons College.  Madeline became an Ambassador for BIA-MA in April of 2012.  Madeline’s brain injury happened from a car collision and then five months later a severe concussion while playing soccer.

Madeline has made numerous presentations for the Ambassador Program.  In April, she was a panel member at the Whitehead Institute’s 2014 Spring Lecture Series for High School Students.  She has also made numerous presentations at many Rotary Clubs across the state including; Lynn, Billerica, Swampscott, Billerica, Tyngsboro/Dunstable, and Manchester/ Essex.   Madeline has also presented at our Pediatric Conference and was a speaker at the 10th annual Boston Acquired Brain Injury Support (BABIS) Walk.

In 2013, Madeline’s story was featured in the Boston Globe in an article on concussions and her story is also featured in many internet sites focused on concussions.  Madeline also wrote a chapter in the book, Concussed! Sports-Related Head Injuries: Prevention.

BIA-MA would like to sincerely thank Madeline for all her accomplishments and her dedication to our organization.  We wish her the best of luck in her studies and would like her to continue to be a friend of the BIA-MA !

Grieving – Mommy of a Miracle

As a parent to a child with a brain injury, I can tell you that this journey is an emotional roller coaster from hell.  The truth is we grieve and most people on the outside just don’t get it because after all our child is still here.  This is my attempt to explain something that is hard to “get” unless you live it.

When someone you are close to passes away, there is a wake followed by a funeral and then the grieving cycle begins.  Generally the grieving cycle consists of shock and denial, followed by anger, then sadness, bargaining and finally acceptance.  When your child suffers a brain injury most  times you have a child who looks like they did before but they are an altogether different child.  Almost like a stranger was placed in their physical body.  We not only go through the grief cycle but are often times left with what has been called chronic sorrow.  Chronic sorrow is defined as the presence of recurring intense feelings of grief in the lives of parents or caregivers with children who have chronic health conditions*.

Shock and denial is the first step of grieving.  According to the Head Injury Center every 5 minutes in the United States a brain injury leaves someone permanently disabled.  When that brain injury happens to your child, shock sets in fast.  I remember looking at Isabella hooked up to all these machines, tubes and IVs everywhere, thinking is this really happening or is this a horrible nightmare that I will wake up from? I mean after all Isabella was fine all Thanksgiving Day, how did things go so terribly wrong so fast?  I was physically going through the motions but I was in complete shock.  There are chunks of time that I just don’t remember.  Denial is something that I never experienced and for that I am eternally grateful.  I think the fact that I was a single parent helped me a lot.  I couldn’t fall apart or deny what was happening because I was the one having to make major decisions that could lead to life or death.

Anger is the second step of grieving. For me anger is such a foreign emotion.  I am not an angry person.  I can only remember two times in my life where I was angry.  Yes I get mad or upset like everyone else but anger well that was not an emotion I was used to.  I was angry that my child was robbed of the life she was supposed to have.  Isabella was a 4.5 year old little girl who had the world waiting for her.  She was this happy-go-lucky, social, smart little girl who met friends everywhere we went.  She was in preschool and she was playing on a soccer team – the one thing she had talked about since for as long as I can remember.  Yet my baby girl was hooked up to machines galore and fighting for her life.  I was angry and I have my moments were I still am.  It is ok to have those moments as long as you are able to move forward.

Sadness is the third step of grieving.  It is when the reality of your child having a brain injury actually starts to set in.  I was sad that the child I had for 4.5 years was gone.  Isabella looked exactly the same yet was replaced by what seemed to be a stranger.  I was sad that Isabella had to go through and endure everything from therapy to tests to doctor’s appointments etc.  I was sad that things Isabella had mastered before her ABI were now so challenging or gone such as walking, writing, coloring, sitting up etc.  Watching Isabella struggle with not only the heartache of not being able to do what she once did but also seeing the  frustration she felt because she knew she could once do it.  I was sad and I still have my moments were I am very sad.  I allow myself those moments because I am human and I know that I will keep moving forward.

Bargaining is the fourth step of grieving.  It is when you try to find the reason or explanation as to why.  It is asking “what if”, “should’ve, could’ve, would’ve” etc.  Often times bargaining is people thinking that they are paying for past mistakes.  I am fortunate that this is not something I went through.  Quite frankly I believe that sometimes bad things just happen.  There is not a rhyme or reason, it just is what it is.  I knew that I did everything that I possibly could to save my child.

Acceptance is the final step of grieving.  It occurs when you have come to the realization that what was is no longer and you start your new normal.  Acceptance doesn’t mean that what happened is ok.  It quite simply means that you are living in reality and have an understanding that life is different.  I will never be ok with what happened to Isabella.  She was robbed of her life.  I have come to the realization that the path Isabella was on prior to her ABI will not be.  However that doesn’t mean that Isabella can’t have a life.  Will it be the same as she was set to prior, no, probably not but at the end of the day, all I want is for Isabella to be happy and live to the best of their ability.  Acceptance doesn’t mean that all is ok it just helps you to keep moving forward.

Chronic sorrow is how best to explain life with a child who has a brain injury.  You are repeatedly faced with a child who in most cases looks exactly like their old self.  However, they are completely different. I miss the Isabella I had for 4.5 years. She was so happy-go-lucky with not a care in the world.  When I have those small glimmers of my old Isabella (however brief and far between they maybe) I take advantage of it.  What I have found is that I love my new Isabella more than I ever loved the prior one.  It is hard to imagine that possible.  The Isabella I have now has become my hero.  I admire her courage to face each day no matter how difficult it maybe.  I admire her determination and I hope she never loses that fight.

“The only people who think there’s a time limit for grief, have never lost a piece of their heart.  Take all the time you need.”  unknown

*taken from www.chronicsorrow.org

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURESGuest Blogger, Kristin Olliney-Apruzzese, is the mother of 8-year-old Isabella, who suffered sudden acute encephalitis when she was just 4. Kristin’s bi-monthly blog, Mommy of a Miracle, talks about the trials and joys of raising a brain injury survivor.

Legal Statement: The information contained in this blog does not reflect the specific views of BIA-MA. This blog is published for informational purposes only. BIA-MA is not providing medical, legal or other professional advice with its publication.

“I do” – by Mommy of a Miracle

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURESI recently got married and the biggest question I get asked is “how did I do it with Isabella”?  Well it required some “out of the box” thinking. My husband, Joe and I knew each other from growing up in the same town.  He had read about Isabella’s Acquired Brain Injury (ABI) and reached out to me.  From the very beginning our relationship was not typical.  After all, we do not have a typical life.  Traditional dating was replaced with hanging out when Isabella was asleep.  We got engaged at home with Isabella.  When it came time to get married, we knew we had to be creative.

Isabella’s ABI has left her with debilitating anxiety.  She has no control over mood, behavior, emotions, coping etc.   Given the severity of Isabella’s condition, a traditional wedding was never going to work.  Truth be told, Joe and I didn’t even want that.  We decided from the very beginning that there was no way we would get married without her.  It was decided that it would be the three of us and a minister.  The ceremony was set up to be very short and simple.  We decided to record the ceremony because we wouldn’t have pictures other than those that the minister took at the end.

We decided to get married at a local secluded park.  We wanted to do it in the early morning on a weekday to ensure that the park would not have people in it.  I contacted the town, I explained my daughter’s ABI and the reason that I needed the park.  The town gave us a permit for an hour (we only needed a few minutes) and were offered a permit for a secondary location should it rain.  I started bringing Isabella to the park regularly so we could practice.  Each time I would put her in her stroller and walk the same route to the little pond where we would get married.

When our day finally arrived, we were all very excited.  Isabella and I wore the sundresses that we had picked out.  I had my sunflower and daisy bouquet; Isabella had her basket of rose petals to throw just like she wanted.  The weather was beautiful.  Our ceremony went as planned- short and to the point just like we had wanted.  We took a few pictures and it was done.  The rest of the day the three of us spent time doing the things that we love at home.  Our day had its ups and downs, but everyday does.  For us, the day was perfect.

I am telling our wedding story for two reasons.  The first reason, when your child has a brain injury, your life as you once knew (and planned) is over but that doesn’t mean that you still can’t find happiness.  The happiness will be an altered version from what you may have originally thought but you can find it if you try.  Our life is far from perfect but we find happiness in the simple joys of everyday life.  On our wedding day we cherished the moments that we had.  It was the second happiest day of my life, the first being the day that Isabella woke up.  The second reason I am sharing our wedding story is because when your child has a brain injury over time most of the people that swore they would be there for you walk out.  As those people were leaving, my future husband was walking in.  Often times we get so focused on the losses that we miss the possible opportunities.  Alexander Graham Bell once said “When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.” I am so glad that I opened that door.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURESGuest Blogger, Kristin Olliney-Apruzzese, is the mother of 8-year-old Isabella, who suffered sudden acute encephalitis when she was just 4. Kristin’s bi-monthly blog, Mommy of a Miracle, talks about the trials and joys of raising a brain injury survivor.

Legal Statement: The information contained in this blog does not reflect the specific views of BIA-MA. This blog is published for informational purposes only. BIA-MA is not providing medical, legal or other professional advice with its publication.

Introducing our Newest Guest Blogger Tessa Venell

You Never Forget How to Ride a Bike

tvenell riding bikeFor Mother’s Day, my brother and I went home for the weekend to see my parents who live in Acton, a rural town in Southern Maine where I grew up. When I awoke on that Saturday, I went for a run around the three-mile loop I used to do when I was in high school, but had only run once since graduating from college. The loop starts on a dirt road at the end of my parent’s driveway and winds through the woods and past a hill overlooking the lake that I swam in as child.

After I ran, I had lunch and got in the car with my parents, my brother, and his girlfriend to drive to a trailhead nearby to go for a short hike. My mom wanted to go for a hike for Mother’s Day, continuing a tradition that started when I was in grade school. As I was hiking, I felt surer of my footing than I had during the first few hikes I had attempted, and I relied less on my dad’s arm for support. Jazzed up after the hike, I asked mom if she’d spot me on the bike. For the first time in eight years, I rode a bike all the way up and back down the hill.

It wasn’t the first time I had tried to ride my bike since suffering a traumatic brain injury eight years ago. In 2006, I was involved in a car accident that had left me in a coma and unresponsive for 3 weeks before being admitted to the “Slow to Recover” program for 100 days at Braintree Rehabilitation Hospital. However, it was the first time I actually enjoyed riding a bike since before the accident.

I had tried riding a bike a couple of times before, but my attempts always ended in frustration that boiled over and quickly led to yelling and hurt feelings for the person that was trying to help me. Those first attempts at riding a bike left a bad taste in my mouth and I didn’t think I would do it again. Riding a bike was not the most important activity to me, if I had to lose something; I was fine with this being the thing.

Those initial attempts at riding a bike were a stark reminder of the limitations I still face. At the time, I was just starting to get more confident, feeling like I could finally start to grasp my recovery and better manage my life with TBI. I didn’t like to be reminded of my limitations and not being able to successfully ride a bike left me feeling frustrated, and I didn’t like remembering what it felt like to have those limits. Memories of my recovery after the accident started to come flooding back, and the various obstacles I faced during the time I spent in three different hospitals over the course of nearly a year.

But that Saturday, the day before Mother’s Day, was the first time I had considered riding a bike for fun, even after running and hiking. Both the running and hiking felt easier that day and finally I was looking to be challenged again. Even after failing to ride a bike multiple times, I was feeling confident enough in my balance and strength to try again. And even though I had yelled in frustration during my first tries, on my way back down the hill my mom was waiting there for me, like she had been waiting to support me through my whole recovery.

My neurologist at Braintree, Dr. Douglas Katz, once told me that I would continue seeing changes in my recovery even five to six years after the accident. At the time, I looked at this with disappointment: I wanted to be recovered now, not in six years. Gradually, I began to see things from his perspective, and still notice even small changes with my memory, balance, and emotions. That progress, no matter how small, excited me, and propelled me to new stages in my recovery. Even eight years later, the confidence I was starting to feel with my body while running and hiking motivated me to get back on my bike.

And though I had questioned this initially, I found the old adage to be true: You never forget how to ride a bike. Sometimes you just need patience to remember.

Venell Beijing headshot

Guest Blogger, Tessa Venell, is an independent journalist and documentarian. Currently a grant writer at The Ivy Street School, she is writing a book about her recovery from a brain injury that she sustained when a severe car accident left her in a coma. You can see more of her work at tessavenell.com.


Legal Statement: The information contained in this blog does not reflect the specific views of BIA-MA. This blog is published for informational purposes only. BIA-MA is not providing medical, legal or other professional advice with its publication.

kristine & isabellaLast year I started an online support group on Facebook called “Parents of Children with Brain Injuries”.  For the first time since Isabella’s Acquired Brain Injury (ABI), I no longer felt alone.  I have other parents that can relate to how I feel, what is going on with Isabella and they quite simply just “get it”.  As a parent to a child with a brain injury we are often misunderstood.  We are seen as people who only talk about brain injuries, we are seen as ungrateful, we are seen as overprotective, we are seen as mean for having our child go to therapy etc.  Below are 12 things we want you to know about us:

1.)    We want you to know brain injuries are an invisible disability.  While our child may look “fine” or even as they did before their brain injury, they are no longer the same child they once were.  Their brain injury has forever changed them.  Brain injuries can cause behavioral changes, emotional instability, impaired cognition, poor judgment and a slew of other things.  Trust me, no matter how “great” they look, they are not “fine”.

2.)    We want you to know there is no cure for a brain injury.  Not all the therapy, medication, doctors, sweat, love and tears will cure their brain injury or bring them back to how they once were.  However, we do all that we can to give our child the best possible outcome.

3.)    We want you to know we are no longer the same person we were before our child’s brain injury.  Some of us have literally watched our child die before our eyes.  We have witnessed horrible things and we have also seen some amazing miracles.  We can’t be who we once were no matter how hard we try.  Our lives are forever changed and as a result so are we.

4.)    We want you to know that if our child manages to briefly hold it together when we see you that doesn’t mean that they are “fine” or that we exaggerate.  An often time our child is so overwhelmed that the fall out is long after you have gone.    That pent up anxiety quickly turns to aggression, crying, panic attacks, anger, and many other emotions.

5.)    We want you to know that when you see our child having a tantrum, please don’t judge us or them.  Our child doesn’t need to “learn respect”, “get beat or get a whooping” or need to “stay busy to stay out of trouble”.  Our child needs love, respect, compassion and understanding.  Their brain injury leaves them with little control over their own body and mind.  When you judge us it only makes it harder.  Trust me we don’t enjoy the tantrum and neither do they.

6.)    We want you to know that we can’t just “get over it”.  We would love to move on in life as if our child didn’t have a brain injury.  We would love to go back to that carefree attitude, a life where this horrible nightmare never happened.  Unfortunately this is our reality.  Our entire world revolves around brain injury.  We talk about it in hopes that you will never have to go through what we have.

7.)    We want you to know that sometimes the things you say to make us feel better only make us feel worse.   Please don’t say “God only gives us what we can handle”, “I don’t know how you do it”, “I could never do that”, “pray harder”, “everything happens for a reason” or anything along those lines.  We have to believe that it is not God’s will to allow our child to suffer from a brain injury.  We have to believe that sometimes bad things just happen.  Along the same lines, if you were in our shoes you would find a way to make it work too.  We have no choice and neither would you.  It’s ok if you don’t know what to say to us.  We appreciate the honesty.  If you want to encourage us, let us know we are doing a good job.  It will mean more than anything else you could say.

8.)    We want you to know that we grieve.  We grieve the loss of the child we once had, we grieve for the future they could have had, we grieve for the innocence they lost, we grieve for the future we had planned for ourselves, we grieve for the impact it has on our family etc.  There is no set timeline on how fast or how slow we grieve.  Grieving doesn’t make us any less grateful that our child survived.  Believe me, we are grateful beyond words.  Grieving is yet another part of this journey.

9.)    We want you to know that we feel isolated.  When the rest of the world has moved on, we are still here stuck at what seems like a standstill. When our child’s brain injury first happened, everyone rallied behind us during this time of crisis.  As time goes on they fall to the wayside one by one.  Some fall away because we are not able to put in the same effort on the relationship.  Some fall away because that common ground is lost.  Some fall away because they don’t know how to deal with what has happened etc.  We may not be able to socialize like we once were; however, we do like to feel important and as though we haven’t been forgotten.

10.) We want you to know that we refuse to settle for our child even when medical professionals are asking us to.  Doctors, nurses, therapists, surgeons and alike can offer their medical opinion but that doesn’t mean that we have to agree.  Remember, at one point we were told our child wouldn’t make it and they did.  We were told that our child would never walk, talk, eat etc and most of our children do.   So when we are being asking to settle for our child, we just won’t.  If we settled in the first place, our child most likely wouldn’t be here or be where they are today.  We want our child to have the best life possible within their capacity.

11.) We want you to know we worry A LOT.  Will my child wake up/talk/walk/eat?  Will they die overnight in their sleep from a seizure because I was sleeping?  Will medical insurance approve or deny the treatment/therapy/medication that our child needs?  What will happen to our child when we die?  How do we fight the school system so our child gets the appropriate education with the right accommodations?  How to I protect my child from the cruel world who wants to judge them at every opportunity?  How do I keep my child from being bullied?  How can I get family/friends to understand that I want to be who I was but I am no longer that person and neither is my child?

12.) We want you to know that we often feel guilty.  Guilty for missing out on our other children’s lives.  Guilty for mourning the loss of our pre-injury child.  Guilty that we are jealous of other children without a brain injury.  Guilty for wanting or needing a break.  Guilty for not doing more.  Guilty that our child has a brain injury.  Guilty when they are in pain and we can’t fix it.

These are just some of the things that we, parents of a child with a brain injury, want you to know about us.  Our child is a survivor of a brain injury.  As their parent we are a survivor too.  We have seen things that no parent should ever see.  We have heard things that haunt us daily.  In a world that has only just started talking about brain injuries, we are sadly misunderstood as is our child.   We hope that you never have to experience watching your child suffer from a brain injury but should it happen, know that there are other parents just like you.

What would you want others to know about being a parent to a child with a brain injury?

Guest Blogger, Kristin Olliney, is the mother of 8-year-old Isabella, who suffered sudden acute encephalitis when she was just 4. Kristin’s bi-monthly blog, Mommy of a Miracle, talks about the trials and joys of raising a brain injury survivor.

Legal Statement: The information contained in this blog does not reflect the specific views of BIA-MA. This blog is published for informational purposes only. BIA-MA is not providing medical, legal or other professional advice with its publication.

 

Mommy of a Miracle – Faith

kristine & isabellaIn order to survive this journey through brain injury I think you need to have some sort of faith.  Faith is a very personal thing and yet when brain injury occurs it is often questioned more than ever.  Most people question their faith after a brain injury, but for me, it was quite the opposite.  You see before my daughter, Isabella, got sick with sudden acute encephalitis, I already had doubts about my faith.

The two years prior to Isabella’s Acquired Brain Injury (ABI), I had helped care for my Nana who was dying from ALS.  I watched the woman that I called my Nana, who was more like a mother and best friend to me, suffer for about two years.  It was heartbreaking and it made me question my faith.   My Nana was one who always had a strong faith yet she was suffering.  At the same time that my Nana was dying, one of my best friends, Jillana, was losing her battle to an inoperable brain tumor.  Once again my faith was being questioned.  Jillana was a young athletic amazing person and yet she was suffering from this horrible brain tumor.  My Nana died Sept 2009 and Jillana died March 2010.  Within 6 months I had suffered two substantial losses.  I was angry and upset that two great people suffered and died.  I was questioning my faith; I was questioning everything that I had ever believed in.   I found myself searching for a reason to have faith because I no longer believed.  I didn’t believe in prayer because I prayed so much for them both.  I did not believe in people that claimed to have experienced miracles.  In my mind, people that claimed to have miracles were not telling the whole story and clearly something else played a hand in that “miracle”.

When Isabella got sick everything changed.  I found myself in the PICU watching my child dying before my eyes.  I was praying to anyone that was listening to please save my baby.  In that room I didn’t know what else to do so I prayed.  There was family, friends, acquaintances and strangers from all around the country praying for Isabella.  Then in the words of her doctors, a miracle happened.  Prayers were answered.  Not only did Isabella survive but she defied the odds.  Hearing doctors say that there is no medical explanation for her survival and that it is a miracle she is here, well, that gave me something to think about.  I had watched a miracle with my own eyes and there wasn’t more to the story as I had often suspected with others who claimed miracles.

As the hours turned to days then months and eventually years I could feel that my faith was returning.  I had faith to understand that the power of prayer really does work and miracles really do happen.  Not all prayers are answered how I want them to be but I now have faith that somehow some way things will work out.    Ironically that was something that my Nana had told me my whole life that I didn’t understand until Isabella got sick.

On this journey my faith has been tested over and over.  What I have found is that faith comes in all kinds of packages.  There is faith in the power of prayer, and faith in miracles.   I have faith that Nana and Jillana are our guardian angels, both never far from us.  Faith can also be found in doctors, therapists, friends, family, strangers and support groups.  Faith isn’t always this thing that is right in front of you; sometimes you have to really look for it.  Most importantly I have faith in Isabella and myself.  I know that together we can conquer any battle big or small.  After all faith helped us survive the unimaginable.

Guest Blogger, Kristin Olliney, is the mother of 8-year-old Isabella, who suffered sudden acute encephalitis when she was just 4. Kristin’s bi-monthly blog, Mommy of a Miracle, talks about the trials and joys of raising a brain injury survivor.

Legal Statement: The information contained in this blog does not reflect the specific views of BIA-MA. This blog is published for informational purposes only. BIA-MA is not providing medical, legal or other professional advice with its publication.