Tides do what tides do, they turn. And as I was sitting on the beach this past weekend watching the tide do what it does, it made me realize that our own tides are turning.
For so long, I have been the decision-maker on this journey. I do the research, I make the appointments, I go over and over it in my head (then go over it one more time), I schedule the surgeries, yada, yada, yada. And those close to me know how hard some decisions have been for me. There have been sleepless nights, tears, cursing, dread, and just hate for the fact that I even have to make such decisions. But nonetheless, they had to be made and no one else was making them. The job of a mother, I know.
But little by little, that job is slowly being removed from my hands. With the first ear reconstruction, Kennedy started voicing her thoughts and opinions. She wanted to do it but she didn't technically make the decision. By the time the second ear reconstruction rolled around, she was a little more in tune with the decision making process. We talked about it, I gave her the pros and cons (although let's face it, no one saw the ending coming), I gave her my thoughts and opinion, and she said yeah, let's do it. So after that disaster, I stepped back. I had to for my own sake...the disappointment ended up on my shoulders whether it was my fault/decision or not. So Kennedy made the decision of a prosthetic ear on her own. And I was proud of her for making that decision, and would have been even if she had decided not to go that route. BUT, we were already so far down that road. She had been trying to get an ear for so long that it wasn't that difficult of a decision to make. Sure, she needed time to heal from the physical and emotional toll that two failed ear reconstructions took on her body and soul. Who wouldn't? But when she was able to see clearly again, she knew she was too close to throw it all away. So prosthetic ear we did.
So when spring rolled around and she asked for an appointment with her plastic surgeon, imagine my shock. Yes, you read that right...SHE ASKED. It wasn't something where I said, "Do you want to look more into this?" No, it was more like out of the blue clear sky, "Mom, can I go see Dr. Marcus?" And so we went. And at her request, he told her the process for removing the large mark on her cheek (most likely a type of mole but no one really knows other than a biopsy when it appeared years ago proved it wasn't cancer). He also told her all about SMILE surgery, which we've talked about before but never in detail and never at Kennedy's request. He sat with us for quite awhile and told her all the details. He had also written it all up and handed it to her as we left, knowing her and the fact that she would contemplate more once we left his office. Katie and I discussed SMILE surgery on the way home that day and we both thought it sounded amazing. There are two ways to accomplish it but essentially, it is taking a nerve and a muscle from the leg and implanting in the cheek. With some therapy and just everyday use, the nerve and muscle learn how to function relative to the opposite "working" side. It helps with facial paralysis, gives a more symmetrical smile, and perhaps can assist with speech issues. (please note that this is the shortest, most generic description of this surgery!) But then we never mentioned it again.
On our way home from helping with a project for Duke Children's last week, Kennedy let me know that she wanted me to schedule surgery - for removal of the mole and for the first stage of the two-stage SMILE approach. And there it was, the tides turning. This has been her decision from the beginning -- she asked for the appointment, she obviously gave it tons of thought, she made the decision. On her own. Without me. Without any advice from me other than knowing that in general, I find the surgery amazing.
Let me remind you that she is 12. And although someone made the comment on the Team Kennedy page a couple of weeks ago that allowing such a young, "not mature" child make such a decision was an awful parenting decision, I couldn't be more proud. When it comes down to it, this is HER life. This is HER face. This is HER self-esteem. This is HER decision. To some 12 may seem young to make such life-altering decisions. But Kennedy has been through more in her 12 years than most people have been through in their lifetime. She is no stranger to surgery and disappointment. And life-threatening infections. But this is what she wants. This is the path that she wants to take. This is her taking ownership of her syndrome. This is the tides turning.
And the thing is, she know I'm always there to help with these decisions if she wants my help. She knows some decisions - like whether she will need a spinal fusion in a few years - may be out of her hands. She knows that no matter what she decides, I will be there when she is put to sleep and I'll be there when she wakes. She knows I'll stand behind her 100%.
The tides are turning, but I know how to swim. I also know how to float. And boogie-board. And stay on shore. Whatever she needs me to do as she controls her own future, and she takes ownership (and kicks ass) of this thing we call Goldenhar.
