The "S" word is better than the "A" word.

Kielah had an appointment this morning in Dallas at TSRHC.

As previously mentioned, the word amputate instantly makes me want to cry and/or vomit. So clearly, last night I couldn't fall asleep until about 2am and still managed to wake up every single hour. 

This morning, Kielah woke up happy about life, but when she remembered she was going to the doctor, she automatically started crying about not wanting to get a shot. (Thanks, IV😂) After she realized her prosthetic doctor doesn't give shots, we were ready to go.

Fast forward to the appointment.

The doctor came in and asked all the things he always asks (pain, range of motion, can she walk on her foot without the prosthesis on, etc). The only difference this time is that Kielah has in fact been having pain, and has been telling me and her dad that her knee is hurting on a regular basis for no apparent reasons. Her doctor pulled up Kielah's previous X-rays, and informed us that she will need to have a SUPERhip surgery in early 2018. (Cue the tears😭)

(Surgery is better than amputation though...Priorities with a child that has PFFD)

Here's her X-rays from right before she turned one in 2014 compared to her X-rays taken right before she turned three in 2016.

2014                                 2016

Good News!

As you can tell, her femur has grown, and the bottom ACTUALLY looks like a real bone now! The bone has straightened out, and it is trying SO hard to be where it's supposed to be!

Not So Great News.

Her hip looks pretty much the same. The anatomy hasn't changed. However, the position is VERY obviously lower. You can tell by the pelvic region that her left hip if significantly lower than the right. The socket isn't formed correctly, and the tendons and ligaments are pulling her hip down because the bone isn't very strong. She'll have to have surgery to help strengthen it. This surgeon described this surgery as "not major, but not minor. Kind of in between." She'll be in the hospital for a couple of days in Dallas. People might wonder if I would rather her have this surgery in Abilene, and the answer is a definite NO.

Her surgeon is literally world renowned for what he does. He speaks in multiple countries every month out of the year over these types of procedures. If my child has to have a surgery, I definitely want someone who is known around the world for performing this exact surgery.

If you're curious about what this surgery involves, check out this link.

Kielah won't be having limb lengthening, so that part of the article won't be for Kielah. She's having it to just strengthen the hip so she can play sports or do anything else without pain.

Ask me any questions if you're interested!! 

My name is Katie, and I have a mental illness.

"I've learned to celebrate my life, to embrace it. If I have the problems, the problems don't have me. They're not something I'm ashamed of."

- Carrie Fisher

I know I made this blog to be about Kielah, but to be honest, this does have to do with being a mother. It's about my journey to be the absolute best mother that Kielah could ever have.

You never really know how dramatic your 24 years of life have been until you sit down and explain it to someone.

Let's just start at the beginning. (Keep in mind that I warned you it's a lot.)

When I was six months old, my papa passed away. When I was three, my brother got hit by a car, and when I tell you I remember it vividly, I mean down to the color of the cloth on the back window where I was looking out when my oldest sister told us to stay in the car. When I was in the 6th grade, my aunt, who was also my godmother, had a heart attack and passed away. When I was in the 8th grade, my youth pastor had a heart attack and passed away. I lost my last three grandparents in an 18-month period in high school (two from cancer, one from heart disease). In September 2015, I lost my cousin to mental illness. Eight days later, my best friend's mom died of cancer. 

I'm not gonna act like I'm this super human who just easily get over things and moves on because I don't. I hold onto things. I remember everything. I can tell you the dates that everyone I've lost has died. I can tell you exactly where I was and what I was doing at the time I found out that they died. So I'm not good at letting things go. I'm working on it, but I haven't mastered it yet. 

The Moment I Knew I Needed a Therapist

As I mentioned, my cousin passed away on September 15, 2015 due to mental illness. A few months later, Kielah's doctor told us we were going to have to decide if we were going to amputate her foot. Once the doctor said that, I had times where I would be fine and happy and laughing, and then I would suddenly start crying because the thought had passed my mind; or I would be driving and just hysterical; or I would talk to Kielah's dad and be a complete wreck the entire conversation. It got to the point to where I couldn't control it. I was either panicking and crying, or I was just pissed and yelling and griping people out all the time. I didn't like the person who I was becoming. I went to my primary care doctor, and when I told the doctor about what Kielah's doctor had said, I had a full out panic attack in the middle of the office. When the doctor saw this, she put me on Lexapro (which is an antidepressant) and the lowest dosage of Xanax for those panic attacks. In my mind, I was like "cool, I'll just take this pill, and I'll be fine. I'll be this normal human being who is emotionally stable, and things will be all hunky dory." Of course, this was me being naive, as I had never taken these types of medicines before. 

The Lexapro made me a psychopath. I gained weight; I was moody; if I missed a day of it, I would just cry...all day. It got to the point to where I went to my mom crying and terrified and just told her 

"Mom, I don't know what's wrong with me."

Knowing that my cousin, Laken, had passed away from suicide caused by a mental illness kind of just opened up my eyes to how severe it can get. I've never felt that way about myself; I've never thought that that was my option, but possibility of getting to that point terrified me, for myself and for my three year old daughter. 

I didn't want to be on the medicine. I didn't want my body to get dependent on the lexapro that was making me a crazy person, so I went to the doctor, and I asked to get switched to Prozac. Prozac was great. I never had any problems with it, but I just still wasn't the mother, young woman, or just human being that I wanted to be.

I had always had a stigma about people who go to therapy.

Therapy was just for couples who are about to get divorced, people who have been like sexually assaulted or had tragic things happen to them, or people who can't manage their life, and I can manage myself so I'm fine...but I wasn't. I finally had to come to terms with that.

Sadly, it was very difficult for me to find a therapy office that would get me in soon and not like six or seven months to be seen, and I could not wait that long. I needed someone to talk to about my life who wasn't a part of it or emotionally invested in it. I needed a therapist.

Best. Decision. Ever.

Am I cured? Absolutely not. Depression and anxiety is not something that can be cured. It's something that you learn to cope with, and, man, have I learned to cope! I know how to calm myself down, without taking a Xanax. Now, occasionally I do have to take a Xanax, but it's once every couple of months, not once every couple of hours. I am not on Prozac anymore, and I am so proud of that because I HATED those types of medicine. There's nothing wrong with being on the medicine. If it's what you need it's what you need. It's like what Kristen Bell said: 

I just didn't want it for myself. I wanted to be able to cope without taking medicine, and I've done that. If I start having a panic attack, I'll get in my car and drive around, say everything I need to say, and yell and scream and cry and whatever. Then by the time I get back to where I need to go, I'm fine.  I journal all the time. If it has to do with Kielah, I'll talk to her dad about what's going on. If it has to do with pretty much anything else, I'll talk to my best friend about it. If things get too overwhelming for me, I go to therapy and talk to my therapist. 

I can honestly say that with having a mental illness, therapy was the best solution for me. 

I just wanted to put this story out there so if any other moms (or just people) feel like you're alone, or nobody understands, or people are gonna think you're crazy, or if you're ashamed of taking medicine for a mental illness, or if you're ashamed of going to therapy, that there is absolutely no reason to be ashamed.

If you need someone to talk to or want some help on trying to find coping mechanisms that work for you, message me! I'm more than willing to share or even just listen.

Putting your own wellbeing before your pride or your fear of being rejected or made fun of is so incredible. 

I'm not to the point I want to be, but I am a hell of a lot closer than I was a year ago.

Hi, my name is Katie, and my child has a prosthetic.

OH. MY. GOODNESS. 😑

When you think of people who need prosthetics, you probably think of veterans, not a three year old. I completely understand that. I have no problem with that. That's EXACTLY what my first thought was when the doctors told us Kielah would eventually need one.

BUT HERE'S THE ISSUE.

If you see my child somewhere, and you are curious what is on her leg:

ASK ME.

• Do not stare. 
• Do not give her weird looks. 
• Do not poke your friend and point to my child and speak. 
• Do not keep looking into space then looking back at her because I CAN TELL.

It's not a normal everyday thing to see a toddler with an apparatus on her leg. I GET IT! However, if your child had something special about her, and someone was staring at him or her, would you be upset? Yes. 

I don't mind questions, and most parents in my situation don't. 

In fact, I am happy to answer any questions you may have. 

If you are staring at my child, it should be because she is CUTE. AS. HECK. Not because she has "something on her leg."

-Rant over-

Well, here we go!

Well hello there! :)

This is my first blog post so I still have to get the hang of it.

Let's start off with a little background:

Kielah at 1 day old!

Kielah was born in 2013. I was 20 years old when she was born. I had a c-section, so I didn't get to see as soon as I had her. When her dad and the nurse came into the recovery room, they told me that for some reason Kielah's left leg was shorter than her right. 

Kie right after birth. *Check out that hair!*

Thankfully, we have an amazing pediatrician who got us in with doctors at Texas Scottish Rite Hospital for Children when she was only a week old. 

Fast forward three years, three prosthetics, and a few terrifying moments (which will be elaborated on at a later time) later, and now we have this sassy little girl!

Kielah on picture day - 2017.