Monday, late afternoon, I stood outside in the Portland not-quite-rain and mist. I stood amongst purple and white flowers, their heads nodding downwards, some of their green foliage invariably crushed underfoot. I faced the digital telephone box, weapons of choice in hand: needle-nosed pliers in the right, Phillips head screwdriver in the left. Adahlia stood behind me, on the gravel path, fingering a small stone she’d picked up. There was a bolt that needed removed, and a screw, and then some latching mechanism, and then maybe I could find a way to unhook the thick cable that came out, wound around our yard, and attached itself to a complicated coil of wires in a utility box that seemed more like an open snake pit.

We don’t have digital phone. Never did. But this wire was placed by Frontier months ago, over a year ago, until a few days into their internet service I realized I’d made an error. We switched to Comcast for internet and Frontier’s wire was never buried or removed. I had other fish to fry. But now we are moving, and something needs done about the wire.

I’d been on the phone all day between the two companies. Frontier refused to remove or bury it because they weren’t my provider. Comcast refused to touch it because it wasn’t their equipment. They finally suggested I just remove it myself, if I could do it without electrocuting myself. After taking a look at the wires balled up in the box in the ground, and realizing I could not detach our wire from the rest of the tangle, I figured I’d approach the problem from the opposite end, and try to disconnect the cable from the box attached to our house.

But it was locked.

I partially unwound the screw, but it mysteriously stopped turning and then I couldn’t remove it. Using the pliers, I twisted and removed the bolt. I tugged at the door. Nothing budged. I tugged again. Nada. And that was it.

Yup, that was it. I pulled out my phone and called Frontier. Andres, located in their Texas office, picked up.

“I am standing in the rain with my 18 month old daughter and scissors in my hand,” I seethed. “I have called you and comcast both, and gotten nothing but the run-around. I’ve had it. Your company put this digital phone cable in my yard. In 30 seconds, I am going to cut the wire, unless you do something about it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, “let me order you a technician.”

So Adahlia and I went back inside and I pondered my second big problem of the day: how to get Adahlia’s pediatrician to agree to prick her finger to test her hemoglobin (Hb).

You see, the hospital cannot do finger pricks – they only have phlebotomists who draw blood from veins. This is not only more painful, it also increases the risk of making her veins no longer good (after awhile, veins give out and you can’t draw from them anymore), which increases the risk of needing a port to give her the transfusions.

For obvious reasons, I do not want an IV port placed in my daughters chest unless we absolutely must.

Adahlia was 3 weeks out from her last transfusion. She had only gone 3 weeks between transfusions for the last 2 iterations. I needed to get her blood checked but I didn’t want to waste a poke if we didn’t need a transfusion. I called her ped’s office, but after discussing my request with the doctor, the nurse called me back to say we’d need to make a full appointment, because the doctor wanted to do a check of her: he was concerned and wanted to rule out sepsis.

I groaned.

“She doesn’t have sepsis,” I replied. “She’s not sick. We just need to know her Hb levels so we can know if she needs a transfusion. In and out. We don’t even need to see the doctor; we don’t see anybody but the phlebotomists when we go to the hospital for a Hb check.”

The nurse said she’d talk to him again.

Then she called back to say the doctor was declining our request, saying that he didn’t want to get involved.

I nearly snapped. Didn’t want to get involved? Believe me, lady, there are times I’d rather not be involved, but I am! We’re involved! Too bad!

I didn’t snap though. Because I didn’t really believe it. This was Adahlia’s pediatrician after all.

“Are you sure? This will save her so much pain… A finger prick she doesn’t even feel… And it’s so quick… ”

Silence. Then, in a low voice, the nurse apologized, and repeated that he didn’t want to get involved. “I’m really sorry,” she said, “I really am.”

At that point, my eyes began to water. How could people be so cruel? And I nearly fired our pediatrician.

But we were already having all sorts of difficulties with Adahlia’s new health care. With the new health law taking effect on the 1st of the year, Adahlia’s Medicaid provider switched, and so all her appointments and medication now needed new authorizations. Id been going back and forth with her hospital and insurance and pharmaceutical companies for days, trying to iron everything out. To switch out her pediatrician now would be disastrous.

Ok, I thought. What is the equivalent of threatening to cut the line when it comes to a doctor?

If compassion and reason wouldn’t work, what approach would? I was obviously using the wrong one.

(How many times in the last 18 months have I discovered that compassion and reason will not work with many people? Too many.)

Then, I remembered how the hematology nurses had approved this plan of mine, and given me their fax number so that the results of the finger prick could be faxed to the hospital.

It was after hours , but I called and left this message at the pediatrician’s office:

“Hi, this is Adahlia’s mom again. I just needed to call one more time and see if Dr ___ would reconsider. I believe I forgot to mention this, but the hospital is actually in favor of this plan, they’ve approved it because it will save her both pain and trauma to her often-poked veins.”

Pause.

“We’d really like to keep Dr ___ ‘on the team,’ so please call me back as soon as possible. Thank you.”

Eureka. The next morning, the nurse called back, congratulating me on my persistence and saying we could set up a finger prick that very day, provided they received a fax from the hospital with instructions.

In a snap, I arranged this with the hematology nurses. After all, the instructions were not rocket science: prick finger when requested, possibly every 2-3 weeks. Test Hb levels. If 8.0 or below, refer to hospital for transfusion.

Done.

And you want to know the best part? Of course you do.

Adahlia didn’t blink at the finger prick. Didn’t appear to feel a thing. And her Hb was 8.7. Which meant no transfusion necessary, which that we really did save her from unnecessary pain, and her veins from one unnecessary puncture.

Chalk up one more victory for mama bear!

Lesson learned? Well, that’s a complicated one, because in today’s modern age, there’s a lot of people talking about doing stuff, and very little ever actually getting done.

For example, the digital phone cable is still lying unburied on my yard.

Adahlia is nearly out of exjade, the medication that removes the excess iron from her blood, and the new pharmacy we have to go through still hasn’t called me to set up delivery of it, even though the hematology nurses and I have been on the phone with our new insurance company and this pharm company for over a week, as I’ve been desperately trying to arrange a refill before she runs out.

Which she will. This weekend.

Sigh.

So, my dears, a question: what’s the equivalent of cutting the wire, when it comes to a pharmaceutical company?

Just a quick note to acknowledge my dear angel friend in DCUs (That’s Desert Camouflage Uniform for you folks of non-military lineage):

She just donated $250.  It is enough to pay for Adahlia’s upcoming consultation in February with her chinese herbal doctor, and all her herbal medicine (including, possibly, the homeopathic spagyrics, too!)  With our big move coming up, and our credit maxed out, I was wondering what we’d do.  I certainly didn’t want to have to cancel the appointment.   I could have never imagined I’d be in the place where I couldn’t afford the medicine I believe in for my own daughter.  Where I’d have to weigh a decision to halt the medicinal plan that I believe will eventually cure her.  How far will I go to not let that happen?  What will I give up to give her every possible chance for a cure?  Plenty.   What will I do?  Anything.  Everything.

And then, out of the blue, this incredible gift!!

When I expressed my astonished gratitude to this friend of mine, she said that we had just popped into her head, and that she “must have heard us somehow.”

I believe it!

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

You see, all things work as they should.  We must just continue to do all we can, and to trust and have faith.  Or, as its been said:

“Be helpless, dumbfounded, unable to say yes or no.  Then a stretcher will come from Grace to gather us up.  We are too dull-eyed to see that beauty.  If we say we can, we’re lying.  If we say “no,” we don’t see it.  That “no” will behead us and shut tight our window into Spirit.  So let us rather not be sure of anything, beside ourselves, and only that, so that miraculous beings come running to help.  Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute, we shall be saying finally, with tremendous eloquence:  Lead us.  When we have totally surrendered to that beauty, we shall be a mighty kindness.”  ~ Rumi

Blessings to all.

Adahlia was blessed once by an eagle when she was in utero.  A bald eagle.

We were at the Portland Saturday Market to buy Christmas presents for our families, and I was just shy of 8 weeks.  We had just moved into a beautiful house together after carefully considering both our incomes and our post-partum plan.  We were about to spend a lot of money on gifts and shipping fees, and we weren’t concerned.  It wasn’t because we were very well-off (I was in my fourth year of graduate school, after all), but because we were full of love and possibility and our future unfolding.  Joe had run back to the car to get something, and I told him to meet me at the river.  I have always been drawn to water.

We were at the market fairly early, and it was not yet crowded.  There are several large trees near the river, near the fountain and food vendors, and folks were pointing at the closest one.  A bald eagle sat near the top, calmly surveying the people gasping and the seagulls screeching at it.  I smiled and felt my heart expand with wonder and joy.  I felt so grateful to live in this amazing city, where miracles like this could happen on a crisp, December Saturday.

Suddenly, the eagle lifted off from the tree.  He did not immediately climb into the sky.  He flew towards me and stopped directly in front of and above me, perhaps only 10 feet above me, and hovered, flapping his wings to stay in place.  I stood unafraid and transfixed.  Seconds passed.  Then, he lifted off higher into the sky, and flew downstream.

Now, Adahlia is 18 months old.  There is a lot going on with her health and mine, and so much is uncertain.  These are trying, difficult times, and sometimes I falter.  It is amazing how fast our lives have changed trajectory, and occasionally, my heart fills with a deep, stubborn, sadness.

This past Friday was one of those days.  Adahlia’s progress is slow and I am impatient.  I have to remind myself of the recent progress:  she no longer pulls at and points at the base of her throat, as if she is experiencing acid reflux or a discomfort at her thyroid.  Her digestion has completely improved – she now actually eats food, instead of just picking and tasting it.  Her appetite is suddenly ravenous.  We feed her all day, all different sorts of food.  Less than a month ago, at Christmas, I was very concerned about her lack of consumption.  She was 17 months old and still very dependent on breastmilk.  Perhaps 70% of her nutrition was my milk.  Not normal.  Not good.  But here she is now, eating all sorts of food, from little snack packs of baby food to soups to raspberries to bread with peanut butter to eggs to turkey to eggs to oatmeal and you name it — she eats!

I attribute it to the spagyrics that I’ve been doing to help her digestion, in addition to the ones to clear toxicity (including heavy metals) from liver, lymph, kidneys, and thyroid.

Yet, her blood is clearly an issue.  She looks like she’s 3 or 4 weeks post-transfusion and its not even been two.  She’s been taking exjade to clear out the iron overload from her bloodstream and I hope its working, because I will not be surprised if we are back in the hospital for another transfusion soon.

I am not entirely surprised.  When someone is as sick at a deep level as Adahlia, and one’s life is in such delicate condition, restoring health is a balancing act.  Things must be cleared but not too swiftly, or there could be too much stress on the system.  Things must be tonified but not too generously, or the wrong sorts of bacteria and the pathogenic processes could be strengthened, too.  I realize what is going on and luckily, we have the transfusions to allow us the time we need to  play with these processes, and coax her body into health.  Therefore, with her digestion improved, I have suspended the homeopathic spagyrics and have reintroduced the chinese medicine, which has done the best of job so far of lengthening and stabilizing the time between transfusions.  Soon, I will reintroduce the homeopathics, so as to keep up the process of removing heavy metals and detoxing her organs, which is important, especially with her taking Exjade.  I want that medicine to do its job and then get out of her system, thank you very much!

You can see that this is quite the unique process. There is no precedent for successfully treating and resolving this disease, which often complicates over time and results in the development of diabetes, hormonal imbalances leading to growth and puberty problems, cancer, and a host of other diseases, all before the age of 20.  This is her best chance at a healthy life and happy future.

With all this going on, the last thing we need is for me to go out of commission.  Yet, my health is changing too.  On Wednesday, the stent and second attempt at stabilizing my kidney was removed.  Things since then have been touch-and-go.  We’re doing what we can from the natural/oriental medicine perspective and I’ve added a few things I had not thought to do before, to drive energy downward, open channels, and reduce inflammation.  I’m not exactly sure what my status is, if the water is building back up within my kidney, and if I will need the surgery I’ve been hoping to avoid.  All I know for sure is that I need to be able to take care of Adahlia.  So, I focus on the daily things and on what I can effect.  Like, dinner.

On this past Friday morning, I took Adahlia to see her second children’s performer of the week at Cafe Au Play.  I hadn’t really intended on it — we had gone to see Red Yarn on Tuesday and I had left her waterproof pants there by accident.  When we went to retrieve them, Tallulah’s Daddy was just about to start his set, so we stayed to enjoy it.   Then, Friday afternoon, we headed to the park.  And this is where the second raptor blessing occurred.

At this point, as I mentioned, I was feeling kind of low.  I was concerned for Adahlia, and wasn’t sure about my own health and what that meant for our family.  There was this sad energy that needed to come out, and the playground was empty.  We sat together on one end of the four-person see-saw, Adahlia in front of me so I could steady her if she lost her balance.  As we bounced in rhythm, I began to sing softly, and it was kind of like a chant, kind of like humming.   At the risk of offending the native people, it sounded similar to a native american song or chant.  I sang whatever notes came.  I played with verses and kept returning to the same refrain.  I felt better as I sang, and Adahlia seemed to enjoy it.  She bounced and pointed out birds to me and I kissed her head.

Eventually, I became aware that three crows were circling, cawing, and dive-bombing a red-tailed hawk that was doing slow circles to our immediate north.  Adahlia and I watched them and I continued to sing.  And then I couldn’t help myself, I thought:

If those crows fly away and leave that hawk alone, then we’re going to get better, everything is going according to plan, and I just need to keep at it.  We will be fine.

Immediately, I cursed myself for thinking such a thing.  After all, if they chased him away, was I going to take it as a sign that I was headed down the wrong path?  That I was simply, stupidly, endangering myself and Adahlia?  Why do I put myself in these positions?!?

But then, two of the three crows flew off.  The third continued to pester the hawk, driving it even closer to us, and then it too flew away, leaving only the hawk.  Riding the wind, the hawk came closer still, until it was directly overhead.  My head craned back fully to look at it, I could see that its head was turned down and it was looking at us.  Beautiful.

If he circles us three times in blessing, then I should relax.  We are indeed on the right path. 

Dammit, Erika!  I thought.  But I couldn’t help it.  It was almost as if the thought was placed there for me.  That I was simply listening.

And the hawk began to circle us.  One, two, three times.  And then it adjusted its wings and rode the wind east.

The next day, I received a random message from a friend I haven’t seen in years, telling me that that very night, Saturday night, there was a fire circle with Eliot Cowan, herbalist and healer of native american tradition, and author of Plant Spirit Medicine.  She said we should go.  Moreover, the fire sacred circle was being held literally a few houses down from ours.

I cannot deny such kismet and decided to go, but life got busy and I forgot all about it.  That night, building our own fire in our living room, I heard a sound like a chime and “recalled” the fire circle.  Disappointed and assuming we had missed it, I went to the kitchen to check the time.  The clock said 6:50 pm.   So, I packed Adahlia up and we went.  (I don’t know where the chime sound came from.)

I had never been to a sacred fire circle before, and it was lovely.  There was another little girl there, perhaps 7 or 8 years old.  I knew no one there (my friend could not go herself) and everyone was very gentle, very relaxed, and very kind.  There was also a dog and a cat, which made Adahlia very happy!  We gave thanks and made offerings to the fire for Adahlia’s healing and shared jokes with the community.  We had to leave before the meat of Eliot’s talk, due to it getting late, but it was a special time.  We both enjoyed it.  I’m not sure why we were called to go to it, but I’m glad we did.

This past week, I’d been doing some work with cultivating the sacred fire that is known as the Life Gate in Chinese medicine, or Ming Men.  My own sacred fire had been weakened in me prior to pregnancy, and the pulse for it, my right kidney pulse, had completely died out during my third trimester with Adahlia.  The area for it on Adahlia’s back is dark and empty, almost black.  This past week, my focus has been trying different ways to rekindle my own Source Fire energies in order to keep my kidney from collapsing under water, to open Adahlia’s Life Gate and stoke and ignite Adahlia’s own flame of existence.  Perhaps, then, this is the explanation.  Perhaps it is a sign that I have been heard.

Well, it certainly is late again.  There are still many things I could say about Adahlia and how she’s doing — little cute things she does, stories of how wonderful she is and how much I love her — but I’ll have to save them for later.  There is more work to do.  And it is time to rest.

Thank you for your continued prayers, blessings, energy, love, and support.

Love and light to you and yours.

Hello loves,

Did you enjoy the holidays? Perhaps they were a pleasant reason to have another glass of wine, an extra helping that “stuffed” you over the edge, and maybe another cookie, or two, or three. Perhaps you knew these items weren’t right for your diet, (maybe they weren’t gluten-free and you’re a gluten-free fan or maybe you’ve been trying to cut back on sugar) but who wants to be nit-picky over the holidays? Not you! (Or me!)

Well, there’s no harm in a little over-indulgence when you balance it with a cleanse or fast. It’s New Years, and many folks are thinking about resolutions. If improving your health is a big part of yours (and why shouldn’t it be?) I invite you to join me in a prayer-and-fast for the next 28 days.

“Good-god,” you may be thinking, “a prayer-fast. Why on earth would I do such a thing?”

Simple. Because you already know the benefits of cleansing your body: increased energy, less weight (physical and psychological), and greater strength. Committing to a month of prayer, or focusing on your spirituality, improves your sense of connection to life and thereby deepens your enjoyment of it.

Let me explain further and see if I can get your interest.

The idea of this prayer-fast is very simple and loosely organized:

For the fast: remove one thing from your diet (or more, if you can do it safely) that you feel might be unhealthy for you. It could be sugar, alcohol, dairy, red meat, wheat, or something more specific, like, chocolate. (Or not!)

Notice that I said it can be something you feel isn’t right for you, right now. You don’t have to have a dependency, reaction, or actual food issue. Remember that most foods, including the ones listed above, have redeeming qualities and are very right in the right quantities for the right people. This isn’t about bad foods or about punishing yourself. This is more about taking something out in a spirit of curiosity and adventure. To see how you feel. It’s an experiment!

For the prayer part, well, this is completely up to you. Perhaps you celebrate the balancing wisdom and fierce beauty of Nature. Perhaps you find God in devotion to religion. Perhaps you recognize that there is a Source of energy or love that connects and enlivens all creatures. Perhaps you have no recognition whatsoever of such mumbo-jumbo but while making love, you experience a loss of the boundary of self and other and a freeing emptiness that also feels like an expansion and could only be described as bliss.

Or maybe you just want to experience those things.

Either way, your spiritual health… (and emotional and physical health, because you are one being and if any aspect of you suffers the rest eventually will, too.) … would probably benefit from a month where you commit to taking a few moments from your day to allow yourself to explore prayer, or to sit quietly in the dark just observing your thoughts, whatever suits you best. And again, it’s more about experimentation and playful curiosity than anything else. It’s about pushing your boundaries and finding new dimensions to your self-hood.

If the idea of restoring your spiritual health makes you uncomfortable, think of it like this: It is like when one guy falls off the mountain: he’s either gonna drag his buddies down with him or there’re going to have to pull him back up.

Not sold yet?

You know, it’s always the things that are most uncomfortable for us that offer the most opportunity for growth and transformation.

Ha! Got you there! Now, are you sold?

Good!

The only thing I ask, if you feel inclined, is to offer up part of the reason behind your fast and prayer as an intention for Adahlia’s health.

The curious ferrets among you wonder: What am I doing?

Well, I am no longer on the super-strict anti-inflammatory diet I was on for a few weeks there (thank god!) but I must admit I felt good while on it. So, I am going to go sans-sugar – all sugar including maple syrup and chocolate, yet again. (I will, however, continue to use raw honey, as it has amazing health benefits.)

See how easy this is?

And, I may also decide to cut out wheat again, or dairy. I’m not sure.

Super flexible!

If you wish to join in, feel free to let me know via one of the many ways I am available, and I will think of ways to keep people motivated or amused, or maybe even both. You can also contact me if you have any questions or run into any problems or concerns.

And for those who would like an Adahlia update: She has learned to stack blocks! After watching Joe and I play with them (for we are like children ourselves) and gleefully destroying our towers, a few days ago, she marched over to the kitchen, alphabet blocks in hand, sat between us as we chopped veges for a stir-fry, and began to stack blocks. She got up to 7.

Seven! I know, and she’s only 18 months! (At the pediatrician’s office a few weeks ago, I learned that she’s supposed to be able to stack 4 blocks by now, and 6 by 2-years.) I could not believe it.

Then, a couple days later, while taking a break from boxing up our Xmas tree ornaments, she began stacking again and I snapped off this amazing (and fuzzy) picture:

Such delicacy and focus!

Then, just yesterday, she built a tower 9 blocks high. No joke! Nine blocks!

But do you want to know the best thing about it? (Because we really don’t care about how many blocks she stacks.) Or, perhaps, the cutest thing?

Its that after she places a block she immediately brings both hands to her solar plexus, right below her rib cage, and presses her palms against herself, as if steadying herself, and holds her breath, waiting to see if they’ll stay put. When they do, she quickly reaches for another block. And again, she steadies herself and holds her breath. She repeats this process, her excitement visibly mounting, but she restrains it, and keeps her focus.

Amazing!!

When the blocks inevitably teeter and fall, we congratulate and encourage her. And we all laugh.

Building health is like building blocks.

You just go one at a time.

When you fall, celebrate how far you got, laugh, and start again.

With this prayer-fast, we’ll take it one day at a time. And I guarantee you will build something worth celebrating!

Yesterday, at 3 weeks since her last transfusion, Adahlia received another blood transfusion. Her Hb was 7.7.

Adahlia is doing well. The transfusion was one of her better ones: one poke, and the blood bank processed the blood quickly so we were actually out of there by 4 pm. While we waited for the blood, I took her down to the main lobby, where a beautiful older woman played ragtime, jazz, and favorites like “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” on the piano.

Adahlia loves music, so we stayed there nearly an hour as she danced and charmed the Starbucks patrons, and enticed me to chase her around tables and chairs. Afterwards, for fun, we rode the sky tram down the hill and back up. It was only her second time on it, and she loved it. At that point, her blood was actually ready and waiting for us, so we hurried back and the nurses hooked it up to her IV. Another four hours later, and we were done.

Adahlia’s liver and kidney function tests are really pretty good. Her retic count (baby red blood cells) actually increased from an absolute number of 5+ to over 11. This is great news because it’s been hovering at 5 for the last couple months. In the past, it’s gone as high as the mid-thirties, and hopefully we will be seeing an upward trend!

The only negative is that her ferretin was up to 821. It’s really increased a lot in the last few months – it had held steady at about 500 for almost a year. Then, late fall, after I had started supplementing her diet with extra amino acids and antioxidants, it started rising quickly. Its odd, considering that I’m not supplementing her with iron (and it’s not in any of her multivitamins.) She is getting iron from nutritious food sources, but that supposedly shouldn’t be a problem. I wonder if she is simply absorbing her nutrients better? That could explain why the iron in her blood is rising.

At any rate, with her ferretin so high, I realized that it was imperative that we start Exjade immediately. Exjade selectively binds to iron and won’t help with the other heavy metal toxicity, but we should start seeing a downward trend of her blood iron levels. I gave her the first dose yesterday when we got back from the hospital, and another today. It did seem to make her drowsy, which is unfortunate, since she usually feels so good after transfusion and had just started getting her energy back after being so sick. But she perked up a couple hours after I administered it, running throughout Panera, chirping and squeaking and playing with anyone who would meet her eye.

I have to say that it breaks my heart (is it possible for it to keep breaking? It’s more like it deflates it, I suppose) to have to give her this medicine. Exjade is not approved for children under 2. There are scary risks involved in taking it, such as loss of hearing and vision. It is a new drug, which means it hasn’t been studied very long. They don’t really know what all the side effects could be, especially when given to a toddler, but there’s a long list of serious and undesirable ones, including, ironically, bone marrow failure.

But I have to give it to her. I tried homeopathy and natural methods, and it wasn’t enough. The alternative I have to giving her this medicine is iron overload, organ failure, and death. And it’s getting too close to the danger zone. So I have no choice. I have to dissolve this toxic substance in fluid and squirt it in her little mouth as she gazes at me with open eyes, and say “good job!” She trusts me take care of her. To do the right thing by her. And I give her yet another poison.

Such responsibility.

Of course, I know that if it weren’t for modern medicine, she would not be here today. This story would have ended a long time ago, when she was six weeks old.

Yet, “First, do no harm” is the guiding principle of natural medicine tenets.

And it seems that absolutely everything, everything, that as a natural health practitioner I wouldn’t have wanted for my child, I am forced to do to her. It tears me to pieces.

As we drove home from the hospital, and I knew what I would have to do when I got home, my eyes filled. Adahlia, of course, was fine – swaying and bobbing her head in rhythm to the music – and I rallied to join her with smiles and song. But as we drove up the hill to our house, my frustration mounted and silent, helpless tears spilled out onto my cheeks. What more could I have done? Why didn’t the homeopathy work? What am I missing?

And just then, as I pulled onto our street, I saw the most amazing thing: a rainbow stretched across it. Instantly, the gorgeous, vivid colors arching into the sky dried my sadness. I nodded. A message of hope: Don’t despair. This is just part of the journey, part of the plan.

Ok, I thought. Okay.

After all, this is where Chinese and natural medicine can really shine: In guiding out the toxic elements of necessary drug therapies. In mitigating discomfort. In reducing unwanted side effects and maximizing therapeutic benefit.

This is integrative medicine. And we can do this.

Before I let you go, I wish to share some very good news that we received this morning. Adahlia’s food intolerance, sensitivity, and allergy tests came back (IgG, IgE, and IgA antibodies) and she has absolutely no appreciable food reactivity. Zero! She can eat a full array of foods. She has no limits on the sources of her nutrition.

That’s huge.

That’s a huge, huge win for the power of natural health and breastfeeding. Her gut is intact and her immune system is not overreacting.

We can work with that.

Maybe, the digestive layer is what needed to heal first, before we could get to the deeper layer. We needed to heal the digestive element before we could get to the bone. From both a natural and Chinese medicine health perspective, that makes sense.

And so we press on.

Please continue to send your light, love, energy and prayers of love and health to Adahlia. There is great power in the mind and spirit. Let’s use it to effect a miraculous transformation.

Love,
Erika

Just a very quick post to thank everyone for all their love and prayers. Adahlia has been doing very well for the last 24 hrs – very happy, energetic, bright-eyed, and attentive. Her nose is still running a very thick, slightly blood-streaked mucus, and she is still not looking rosy in the cheeks, but the diapers are not quite as horrifying. Yesterday, I rocked her and sang to her to comfort her, as it is sometimes the only thing that calms her, and I could not figure out the source of her screaming distress. Yesterday, she napped for over three hours in one hazy, unhappy stretch. But today, today she is making happy chirping sounds, dancing to the radio, and looking eagerly at everything we pass on the nature trail. Today she wasn’t ready for a nap until nearly 2 pm. Today, dare I say it?, her lips may be just a touch less pale, and perhaps there was a hint of color in her cheeks. But it’s hard to say. It’s hard to separate what you want to see, and what you’re afraid of seeing, from what is really there, sometimes, even for people well-trained in the healing arts and able to see multiple layers in the complexion.

This past Sunday, 3 days ago, it was gorgeous here in Portland, and amazingly, it was also sunny and over 50 degrees on the coast! I decided we all needed to go “grounding” – the practice of walking barefoot on the earth (dirt or soil, doesn’t matter) – to let our bodies reconnect with their roots, the earth itself. Grounding reduces stress, physiological and psychological, and resets cortisol levels. Joe agreed an adventure would do us good, even if it was just a distraction to keep us from simply staring at and worrying about Adahlia. So away we went.

To minimize drive time, we drove a straight-line distance thru Tillamook and ended up at a place called Symons Viewpoint – a lovely stretch of beach with three giant sea boulders like eggs, one of them carved into a graceful arch. To our surprise, the sea was full of nearly a dozen surfers in wetsuits. The beach had a pleasant number of people on it – some strolling, others walking dogs, and one group of folks playing frisbee and making an elaborate sand castle city. The weather was perfect – low winds, bright sun, and warm sky. We found a quiet stretch of sand, set down an old bedsheet for a blanket, took off our shoes and socks, and set to playing.

And oh, did we play! Adahlia had an absolute blast. She surprised us both, for she certainly didn’t look, or act, like a desperately sick kid. She ran barefoot all up and down the beach. Pants rolled up, she flung her unsteady toddling gait out towards the waves, with me right behind her, and as the waves rolled in, I’d grab her wrists and lift her into the sky, spinning and shrieking, dipping her toes into the surf that swirled around my ankles and setting her down again where the water was just barely wetting the sand. She didn’t seem to mind that the water was freezing cold on her feet. She loved chasing the waves out, and having the ocean recede only to chase her, roaring and screeching, back up the beach. We danced, twirled, and did acrobatics. Joe did running leaps over her head as she stood rooted in the sand, giggling.

Adahlia loved playing with the water and sand so much that she didn’t want to leave. When we finally did, hiking up to the car while surfers in tank tops or partial wetsuits sat drinking beer, petting their Labradors, and gazing at the sunset, we all felt that it had been a time of great healing.

“Mother, mother ocean,” as it’s been said.

I do feel that this is a huge healing event for Adahlia. A “healing crisis” of sorts. I believe these medicines are draining toxins from her brain and bones, and that she is just now, just today, starting to get a taste of relief. I believe the Chinese medicines have been working well up to this point, and that they still work, but that by changing direction with these homeopathic spagyrics, we’ve shocked the body a bit, much like changing up your workout, and now we are moving past a plateau. It’s a bit more extreme than the Chinese herbs, but she does appear to be handling it, and I’m no longer quite so concerned that the detox might overwhelm her organs.

I don’t know what her blood counts will be tomorrow, when she goes in for lab work and a blood transfusion, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were terrible, or, starting to trend in healthy directions.

I am very confident in that what we are doing for her is currently the best course of action. If her iron is still too high, we can add the exjade to chelate it. But we won’t start her on steroids yet. It is like this analogy from an old professor of mine:

Let’s say you decide you want to start using a room of your house again that you haven’t used in a long time, like an attic. You go out and buy all new furniture for it. Does it make sense to put your new furniture in a dusty, dirty attic full of trash? No. You first remove the old furniture and debris, then you wash it thoroughly, and then, only once it is clean, do you put the new furniture down. Now, you can live in the room happily. The same is true of the body.

Thank you all again for your love and prayer and support. I will update you all some time tomorrow or the next day, and hopefully, in the next few days as we move out of this crisis, I will also be able to write a post of some general, happy updates on how Adahlia’s been growing, too. She had a very happy Christmas and holiday season and we’ve got lots to report!

Think of us tomorrow while we are at the hospital getting her blood drawn and transfusion. Joe will be at work, and this is only the second transfusion she’s had where we won’t have him with us. She’ll be strong, though, I know it. Send her your love and comfort.

Thank you again! Be well. Love to you and yours.

There’s a lot to say about Adahlia’s current health status.

First, she’s really very sick right now.  She had a temperature of 102 about a week ago, which went down after about 30 hours, and due to the amount of drooling that accompanied it, we attributed to teething.  But though the temperature dropped, she remained very irritable.  Very clinging to me.  She was very pale. And then two days ago, her nose started running a copious amount of clear discharge.  Her diapers had been a mess since we started the homeopathic spagyrics but the mess recently went up a notch on the nasty scale:  very stinky.  Dark orange, green, and even blackish.  Watery.  And then, around the time of her nose beginning to run, they began to be full of clear, stringy mucus.

Meanwhile, my throat had started to hurt too.  It was a particular sort of raw that I hadn’t felt in more than a couple decades, and reminiscent of when I was a kid: it felt like strep throat.

Here’s a little more backstory.  You see, Adahlia and I had both unknowingly been exposed to strep over Christmas, while visiting relatives.  (Now, strep of course, does not cause runny noses.  But remember that this did not develop until at least 5 days after Adahlia’s other symptoms, and once one infection takes hold, the body is less able to fend off others.)

When I found out that this relative that was under the weather actually had strep, I took measures to clean out our tonsils and prevent it from lodging with us.  When my throat began to hurt, and Adahlia continued to look awful and sleep too much and cling to me, I decided we needed to have strep ruled out.  So, the day after New Years, just to be safe, I went in for a quick throat check and rapid-strep test.  The nurse said my tonsils were red and looked inflamed, but there were no white patches.  The test for strep was negative.

That afternoon, I then took Adahlia to her pediatrician to rule out strep throat for her, too.  The pediatrician (one substituting for our regular pediatrician) was unconcerned about strep, saying that the CDC says that children under 3 do not get strep throat.  They can only be carriers.  Adahlia refused to open her mouth for him so he checked the other typical orifices (ears, nose, eyes) and listened to her chest.  He pronounced her situation viral (relying heavily on the most recent development of a runny nose and mucus in the diapers, which had started that morning).   He agreed with me that she did look rather sallow, and did a quick test of her hemoglobin.

It was only 8.6 and she is just 2 weeks post-transfusion.

This isn’t necessarily a good news story.  In the last 6 months, Adahlia has moved from needing transfusions every 5 weeks, to every 4 weeks, and now down to every 3 weeks.

And today, she has a wet-sounding cough full of phlegm, and her nasal discharge is yellow and thick, no longer clear and running.

Clear signs of an infection.

But there is more to this story, and the “more” is what has me hoping that it is, in fact, a good news story.

As I said earlier, when we arrived back to Portland from visiting said relatives, I had taken measures to prevent strep from making a home with us.  Specifically, I had added a medicine to Adahlia and I’s regime as a preventative measure.  (After all, adding an infection of streptococcus to chronic kidney disease or auto-immunity or bone marrow failure could be a really dangerous development.)

So, in addition to the homeopathic spagyrics to detoxify and stregnthen our livers, kidneys, and lymph, and the ones to clear out excess iron, build new blood, and remove heavy metals, I added a homeopathic spagyric to detoxify, drain, and clear the upper respiratory tract, including the tonsils.   We started taking this immediately upon return and about 24 hours before Adahlia spiked a fever.  And then she started acting sick, and I started feeling exhausted, and my throat began to hurt.

Coincidence?  I think not.

Did we get strep?  Of course not.

So what’s happening?

The medicines are working, and I had not anticipated how much they would move.  In my case, it is clearing out the cellular “memory” of strep throat from my tonsils, along with any cellular or energetic lingering affects of the multiple strep infections I had as a child.  Basically, it is doing what it is supposed to – clearing out and resetting my tonsils and upper respiratory tract.

But its effect is so much more extreme for Adahlia.  Is it clearing out a lingering viral agent?   Perhaps one lodged in her marrow and brain, like a herpes virus?

I believe so.

It could also be that she is weakened by all this detoxing, and that she has contracted a virus.  But, I don’t think that it is as likely.  After all, Joe and I are not sick like she is (at least not yet).  And we are kissing her little snotty mouth all the time.

But, if she has a lingering, sub-clinical viral agent, what about the heavy metal intoxication?

Well, it is possible to have both.  After all, once the terrain of the body is compromised, all sorts of things can go haywire.  It gets very chicken-and-eggy.

So, about the heavy metals:  we found out that Adahlia has high levels of mercury, antimony, and silver in her system.

How, of course, everyone wants to know (including me) did this happen?

The short answer is that we may never know.

The longer answer is that we need to be realistic.  Our country is very toxic.  Our world is very toxic.  Antimony is a heavy metal toxin similar in its potency to arsenic.  It is found in plastics and in materials used in paints and strippers, amongst other things.  Did I become exposed to it as a child while my parents were remodeling?  Did I become poisoned with it when I refinished my bathtub and painted my walls in my last house in KC?  Or perhaps, it was when I painted my walls here in Portland?  Perhaps my apartment was toxic?  Perhaps the pipes are bad? Who knows.

Mercury, of course, can be found in fish.  Japan recently had its big nuclear disaster, which occurred shortly before I became pregnant.  We do eat a lot of fish – particularly salmon – though I do not honestly eat much in the way of canned tuna.  But there are other places where you can get mercury poisoning.  Again, as a child, I once broke open a thermometer and we watched the mercury roll around.  I don’t remember touching it, but who knows.  Would that really have been enough?  As an adult, I mostly have white fillings in my cavities, but I did have a couple that were originally amalgam (mercury), and I still have one that has never been replaced.  Is that the problem?

Silver?  Well, I enjoy wearing silver jewelry more than gold, but that’s about all I can say about silver.

Yes, it certainly is confusing, especially as we aren’t the types of people one could easily point to and say, “well, they live an unhealthy life.”  We eat organic fruits and veges.  We eat free-range, organic, or natural chicken and other meats.  And it really can’t be the vaccines, because they don’t put mercury in vaccines anymore, and Adahlia has only had one shot of one vaccine, at any rate.  (But I’m so glad now, that I did not give her more!)

There are lots of thoughts on what could be to blame.  And while I’m not big on fear, I am big on realism, and again, the truth is:  None of us live a toxin-free life.  If this could happen to me and to Adahlia, then it can happen to anyone.

Now, I was recently informed that there are several people who think that the Chinese herbs I am taking are to blame for Adahlia’s heavy metal situation.  And I must admit, this greatly disappointed and saddened me.  I had thought that these particular people supported me and believed in the intelligence of my efforts.  And I realized that if these people think the Chinese herbs might be to blame, then surely, there were others.

So let me clear it up:

On one hand, I understand the concerns.  China has some very serious pollution issues.

However, I very, very, very strongly doubt that any of our problems are due to the Chinese herbs.

Here’s why:   For one, the herbs I receive for Adahlia and I are from a world-renown, well-respected physician, and the herbs are independently tested for pollutants and toxins.  If there are top-quality herbs out there, Chinese or otherwise, these are them.  Second, China is a big country.  Most medicinal herbs grow in very specific, wild places.  Saying that all of china is polluted is like saying that there are no organic, non-gmo foods in the US because so much of it is gmo and cross-contaminated.  So, if we are going to say that all of China is polluted, then we need to also say that all the US is polluted and can’t be trusted, either.  Third, the herbs I have been taking have helped her.  Of course, you’d have to go on my word on that.  You weren’t here when she was a newborn and absolutely crazed and clawing at her head and screaming, with strange tics, unable to breastfeed without doing something that looked like swimming freestyle, and other behaviors that clearly told me, if no one else, that something was not right in her brain.  You haven’t witnessed her getting better firsthand, and unfortunately, there’s no measurement for preventative medicine, because there’s no way to say how bad things could be right now if we hadn’t taken the herbs. But I tell you:  she would not be who she is today if I had just let things go.

Ok, so is the toxicity due to the Chinese herbs I took when I was pregnant?

No.  Why?  Because, first of all, I wasn’t taking any herbs or medicine at all – Chinese or otherwise – when I conceived Adahlia.  I was not, and still am not, a huge fan of taking a bunch of supplements if you have reason to believe you are in a good state of health. (Too much of anything can be detrimental to the body, and it is possible to over-supplement.) About a month into the pregnancy, I began taking Chinese herbs because I was feeling very weak and exhausted and I had a sense that I needed help to carry this pregnancy to term.  (Given what happened, with my episodes of kidney failure, I’d say I was right on.)  I was under the care of the foremost practitioner of Chinese medicine for pregnant women here in the NW – a woman who teaches at both colleges of oriental medicine here in Portland, and who has helped hundreds of women over the past few decades conceive and carry to term healthy, happy babies.  She has helped infertile women who have tried everything else, including fertility drugs and invitro fertilization, and were unable to conceive until she gave them acupuncture and Chinese herbs.  She has helped women carry to term when they have miscarried multiple times before.  The herbs she prescribes do not result in a bunch of babies with genetic or other problems.  The herbs she prescribes save babies and make women into mommys.

So, please, folks:  stop blaming the Chinese herbs.

It is like in the Superman movie, when people react with fear and hostility towards what they don’t understand, towards what threatens their perception of safety in their world.

Don’t be the masses, folks.  Be Lois Lane.   Chinese herbs are amazing.  Learn about them before you disparage them.

So how DID Adahlia get heavy metal toxicity?

I don’t know.   My best guess is that it is environmental toxicity built up over the last couple generations or that I was unknowingly exposed to something a few years ago. Think of all the plastics, pollutants, chemicals, herbicides, pesticides, and GMO foods that have been developed and distributed since 1900.  How many generations of people does it take eating, drinking, and breathing, teeny-tiny amounts of poision and heavy metals before it starts to build up and affects the genetic code?  How many generations can eat genetically modified foods before you start having a bunch of genetically modified people?   My guess is that there are a lot more people out there with heavy metal toxicity than we’d like to think.   And if I had to do it over again, if I were planning to get pregnant, I would do a full detox beforehand.  I would flush everything, in every way, heavy metals and otherwise.  Because at the time I conceived Adahlia, I thought I was healthy.  I was part of a healthy, active community and I ate organic, health-full foods.  Adahlia and I’s health collapse was a surprise to everyone.

The truth is that given the state of our environment, the question of how Adahlia got heavy metal toxicity is somewhat immaterial.  While I will try to figure it out, the most important thing is for me to figure out how to get it out of Adahlia.

And that’s what I’m trying to do with the homeopathic spagyrics.

What’s amusing (sort of, and mostly sad) is that so many conventional, biomedical doctors discount homeopathy.  After all, homeopathy is effectively just the energy of the plant, not the plant itself.  In other words, there’s nothing measurable in the medicine.

And yet, these homeopathic spagyric medicines are clearly doing something.  The one I took for helping me sleep has worked for both my mother and myself.  The ones for alleviating stress have helped both my partner and myself.   The ones to boost immunity have helped Adahlia’s white blood cell counts come up.  And these latest ones have certainly kicked up some dust in Adahlia and I’s respiratory tract and tonsils.

So, there’s every reason for me to believe that the one for removing heavy metals will work, too.  And, hopefully, also they will remove the excess iron from her blood.

After the toxicity is gone, viral or metal or otherwise, hopefully Adahlia’s bone marrow will kick in.

If these medicines aren’t able to remove the heavy metals, we will have to resort to very powerful IV medications to leech out the metals.  Unfortunately, such drugs are toxic in themselves and patients using them need to be monitored closely to watch for liver and kidney failure.  As of yet, I have no idea if a doctor would even agree to administer them to a toddler, especially a toddler with bone marrow failure.  It could simply be too dangerous.

So, hopefully these homeopathics will work.   There are signs that maybe they are working:  the stinky, dark, discolored poop in her diaper, for example.

If these medicines are working, you might ask, why is Adahlia needing transfusions more frequently?

I am thinking that it might be because her system is under strain from the metals being pulled out from her tissues.  In her blood stream, they wreck even more havoc than they did when they were stored.  But they must be pulled out in order for her elimination organs to then push them out of her.

It is obviously a very tenuous and tense time.   She looks awful and I am concerned.

It is very difficult to be both medical practitioner and mother to a very sick child with a unique and life-threatening illness.  Looking at her, part of me starts to panic.  The other part of me urges me to remain calm, to remain observant, and to rely upon the theories and understandings and wisdom I have learned about the body and am applying to her.  And yet, as difficult as it is to balance these two sides, it is also a blessing.  Because when she is very ill and refuses to eat anything solid, as mother, I can breastfeed her, and nap with her, and hold and comfort her.  I have my mother’s intuition, which has never once, not yet, failed me.   And as an integrative medical practitioner, as the one directing the blending of these therapies from all these different traditions, from conventional to herbal to spiritual medicine, I have the best chance of finding a cure for her.

And that’s what its about for me.

That is my life, nearly every waking moment of it (and many of my dreams).

I will find a cure for her.

If these medicines don’t work, I have more tricks up my sleeve.

There are more rabbits to chase.

There are more trees to sniff up.

More holes to slip into and shine a light around.

I do hope researchers find a cure for DBA.

But if they don’t, I will.

And if I don’t, I will make such a ruckus that eventually, someone will.

At the last transfusion, Adahlia’s doctors were pushing me to start her on steriods.  I asked them which forms of DBA respond to steroids and which don’t and they said that no one is tracking that information.  In other words, while we know that there are different genes that have mutations associated with DBA, such as RPS19 and RPS26, they aren’t recording that so-and-so, with the RPS19 mutation, didn’t respond to steriods, while this guy over here with the RPS26 mutation, did.

I was astounded.  Wouldnt that be valuable information? I asked.  Its not like it would be impossible to track.  We know who has various mutations.  Couldn’t we make a table of whether or not they responded to steriods and see if there is trend?  Maybe that would help parents (and doctors) decide if putting a child on steriods is the right decision or not.  I mean, to have the information and not track it… well, that is just bad science.

The doctors response was that they wished that such information was tracked, but: “honestly, no one’s invested enough to do that.”

….. Invested enough?!?  In the lives of children??

Well, if its a matter of investment, no one — and I mean no one — is more invested than I.

It’s only been 2.5 weeks since Adahlia’s last transfusion.  And she needs one.  She very clearly feels rotten.  I watch her closely and constantly.  I wonder how fast, exactly, is her Hb dropping?  Will she make it to Wednesday?  What will her count be by then?  Is she in danger?  Is this detox maybe too much for her system to handle?  Can her heart take it?  Her kidneys?

Tonight, as I tucked Adahlia’s feet into her pajama footies and rubbed castor oil onto her belly, I told her:  “I’m not giving up.  You hang in there.  We’ll get you through this.  And if this doesn’t work, I have more ideas.  There are other things we can try.  I’m not giving up on you.  We will get you better!”

And I know one other thing: she’s as tough and spirited as they come, and she’s not giving up, either.

If you read this blog, and you’ve read this far (bless you!) please pray for Adahlia.  Keep her in your prayers for the next 4 days, until she has her transfusion on Wednesday.  Send her your angels and protectors.  She needs your light and love and strength!!

I just got word back from our naturopathic consultation with Dr. Erica Zelfand that Adahlia’s hair test showed heavy metals.

Which ones, I don’t know yet.  If its iron, well, that is unsurprising because she is iron overloaded at this point.

If its not just iron that they found, this has big implications.  On one hand, it is scary and upsetting.  I trusted this house.  The water.  We moved here when I was pregnant, after all.   We thought it would be healthier than my apartment with a flooded basement and mold in the unventilated bathroom.   My poor, poor developing baby!!  What an influx of emotion and swirl of thoughts.

On the other hand, it is hope-inspiring.  I have long suspected that something is attacking Adahlia’s system (a toxin, a virus) as well as mine.  With with the amount of healthy lifestyle and energy healing work I do, for her to simply be weak just doesn’t make sense.  As anyone with any training can tell, Adahlia’s vital force is strong.  So what’s affecting her?  Is it in the house?  Is it in the water?  What’s going on?

Well, if its something like a heavy metal toxin, we can clear that out of her system!  And then she should be able to recover.  But in a way, I can barely believe it.  With more children being diagnosed with DBA every year, I would imagine that a doctor out there somewhere has checked them for heavy metal intoxication.

Right?

Meanwhile, if its just the iron overload that has showed up in her hair, I will be both relieved and sad — sad that we cut off her beautiful baby curls from the nape of her neck without creating new hope for a cure.  (Its silly, I know.  To be truthful, the result is that now she looks like a little pixie with a asymmetrical, hip haircut. Very adorable.)

The good news is that whatever the results say, I have already actually begun a system to remove iron and major toxins, including heavy metals.  A week or so after Thanksgiving, we started us both on homeopathic spagyric medicine.  I had attended a seminar on their use in conjunction with Chinese herbs to treat difficult, chronic, and degenerative diseases like Lyme disease.  Spagyric medicine is alchemical medicine.   Homeopathic medicine is medicine diluted in water so that the chemical molecules are no longer present, and just the energy of the medicine remains.  Homeopathic and spagyric medicines are very popular in Europe as low-cost, effective health care. Critics of the homeopathic and spagyric process refer to it as hocus-pocus or placebo. Proponents of this sort of combined medicinal process tout its effectiveness and its virtually absent side-effects.

This particular company, based out of Germany, takes pains to separate the yin and yang nature of the herb through an alchemical process before recombining and diluting it homeopathically.  Those who study alchemy admire their work.  They’ve won awards for innovation and their products came recommended by practitioners I trust who have had great results with them.

And so far, I have reason to believe in their efficacy. First, I have experienced improvement with them, and second, I’ve seen changes with Adahila.

Adahlia LOVES the medicine.  She is very eager to take it.  And she’s a pretty good little barometer of what’s good for her.  Just as important, her poop has changed.  It has become drier (clumpier, almost pellet-like) and very dark.  Blackish at times; other times green.

What does this mean?  That on some level, it removing something, most likely iron, out of her system.

Hooray!  The big question remaining is:  Is it chelating enough?

That remains to be seen.

But if she has other heavy metals in her, it should be able to chelate those out, too.

(I would be surprised if she is poisoned with aluminum, as I took steps several years ago to reduce our exposure to it by switching to all stainless steel cookware, etc.)

Please keep us in your thoughts and prayers as our latest mystery unfolds.   I have hope that things are turning around, even if it is slowly, and I know that positive thoughts and prayers for recovery go a long way towards making it a reality!

Much love to you and yours.

I write this post in the greatest of haste.

A good sort of haste. The sort of haste experienced as a bartender at a jammed-up college bar.  The sort of haste where 21 old kids are screaming drinks and shots and professions of love and bottles are flying in and out of wells and top shelves and money is changing hands and everyone’s laughing and dancing and shouting and – oh, wait, there’s a fight and your barkeep just leaped over the bar to throw the guy out – and oh my goodness its suddenly lights up and there’s hundreds of dollars in your tip bucket and the cash register exactly matches dollars in for drinks sold and you’re just about the cat’s meow.

This is an entirely different sort of haste but haste nonetheless.  A very focused, humming, sort of happy haste.  In truth, its not really haste so much as being in a state of Flow.

Because Joe is out with the baby buying chicken feet for the broth I’m about to make for us.  I have maybe 30 minutes.  Maybe.

(And if you’re thinking “ewwww…. chicken feet?”  Well, I totally understand.  I’ve been there.  On many levels, the entire business is repugnant.  But, my dear, you would change your mind if you tasted the broth because it is so clean and flavorful, and it also happens to be extraordinarily healthy.  Just like organ meats (liver, kidney, etc.)  We have fallen so far from the wisdom of living in symbiosis with the gifts of life from our planet.  And so I honor the chicken and its feet… and then I slice them up to boil in broth.)

In 30 minutes time, there is so much to say.  So much has changed in the last couple of weeks, for Adahlia and I both (hopefully).  And I realize I have not updated any of you kind folks with pictures of her since she was one year old, and so here it is, along with some stories:

Winter weather is upon us in Portland Oregon.  I recently went with Adahlia to the store to purchase some necessary items to keep her warm.  She picked out a bluish-purple coat with little owls on it. She also picked out a hat — a hat that is clearly much too large.  But she wore it all around the store, which was a big deal because she has a fascination with hats, as long as they are on someone else’s head.  I was psyched!  Finally, a hat she will leave on, just in time for the coldest months of winter!

But when I tried to give her the one in her size, she took if off in disgust.

This is the one she wanted…

She is just about the most beautiful little thing you’ve ever seen, no?

I’m very excited and hopeful because I’ve started incorporating homeopathic spagyric medicine into our routine.

(I’d be happy to talk with you about it sometime.  It involves alchemy and separating the yin and the yang of the substance and then combining it back together.  The result?  A very powerful medicine!)

After doing some self-experimentation in the last couple of weeks, I have discovered that the spagyrics combined with the chinese herbs and an anti-inflammatory diet allow me to stop doing the tincture of western herbs and other homeopathics, and reduces my constant kidney pain from a 3/4 to a 0/1.  Since its worked so well for me, I’ve started doing it with Adahlia. My intention?

1) To reduce and resolve her iron overload situation

2)  To stimulate her bone marrow to make more RBCs

We just started, but I have been observing her closely and have good reason to hope.  And that’s what all the “chop wood, carry water” is about:  All day long, we chop vegetables and make the foods and juices and mix the medicines necessary for us.  Its intense.  Its gluten-free, dairy-free, soy-free, sugar-free, corn-free, grain-free, night-shade and tomato-free, etc.  Its all-day meal and supplement and vitamin and juice and smoothie preparation.  And then, usually, at some point we go on a short walk.  We enjoy the fresh, cold air.  And Adahlia takes a nap.

It’s a lot.  We have nearly snapped under the strain.  But, just when all seemed lost, something incredible happened:  it shifted.  We have come into a place that is remarkable.  As a family, we are closer than ever.  We are kinder and more honest and more fearless than ever.  More loving and supportive than ever.  Our outlook and perspective has grown and shifted.  We are transforming not only individually but as a unit, together, and its very exciting.  It is attributable to every thing.  We are healing.

We are in a place of flow.

Oh, they just arrived (with chicken feet!)

So I have to go.  But I will first tell you some quick stories:

Adahlia loves the moon.  When she sees it, she points and makes little “bu” sounds to draw my attention.  When I sign “moon” she laughs, excited.

She has started helping out around the house a lot.  She likes to carry the cloth diapers after they come out of the wash back to the living room to fold.  She empties the silverware tray of the dishwasher one item at a time – holding it over her head for me to pluck from her fingertips.  She empties the tea drawer of its boxes and bags of tea, handing them to my while I’m at the counter until its empty and then I hand them all (one-by-one) back to her to put away.  (Ok, that last one isn’t really all that helpful.)

She’s very particular about who she’s handing things to, and if my hands are full and Joe tries to get her to give him the items she’s sorting, she’ll refuse.  She moans and babbles unhappily for me to finish.

When she’s excited, she screeches a high pitch screech like that of an eagle or osprey and stomps her feet in quick succession.  (“Fast feet!  Fast feet!”)  She does this when her dad puts another log on the fire, or when she’s about to be given a piece of watermelon, or about to play with my Angel Cards, which she adores.

In the grocery store, Jim Morrison’s “People are Strange” comes on.  She sits up straighter, on alert, gaining my instant mom-radar attention.  Then she begins to bounce in her seat.  We dance and sing in the aisles until the song is over, because good music is worth stopping for.  In the produce area, she gets excited about the avocado and banana (“bu! bu! bu!”).  I let her out of the cart and hand her an avocado. She carries it faithfully around the store and I lift her up so she can set it on the belt at check-out.

Just about two weeks ago, we went to the Portland Oregon Road Runner’s Club Turkey Trot.  Adahlia was entered into the Tot Trot at the Zoo.  We ran the whole 1/2 mile as a family:  First, she ran along holding our hands and we all shouted “ahhhh!!!!!!” like a battle cry.  Then we took turns carrying her in our arms as we jogged along, and as we ran past the cheering volunteers she waved enthusiastically.  We set her down for the big finish at the end and she ran in with us, holding our hands.

She likes to fall asleep using my bicep as a pillow, tucked into the crook of my arm, my arm curled around her back, my hand resting over her tiny hip and leg.  Sometimes, she will pull at my clothing covering my arm — she wants to rest her head against my bare skin, to feel its warm and listen to its pulse.

She has a fascination and love for belly buttons.  If you ask, she will show you her belly button and then point at yours to see yours, too.

Whenever we start the juicer, she comes running.  She likes to put the celery and carrots in and push them down.  She is so proud of herself when she helps make the “vegetable water”!

She still absolutely loves, loves, loves music and books.  On Saturday, Dec 14th, we are going to Red Yarn‘s Winter Holiday concert and puppet show at the library in the SW hills.  Hooray!  Come if you can make it!!!

Warmest wishes and love to you and yours in this holiday season of Light.  Please keep our family in your positive intentions and prayer as we continue on a path of accelerated healing.  Adahlia will heal from DBA and so will countless other children.  Her story (and mine) will help others who are suffering find hope and ways to restore their lives.

Thank you for sharing this journey with us!

You know how it goes when you’re working a puzzle, or even a crossword. First, you’ve got nothing but pieces. You know they make a picture, you might even know what that picture looks like, but really, all you’ve got is a jumbled mess. But at least you have a plan of attack – say, to do the borders first. So you set about it. You select and sort out the border pieces so you can focus on them. You turn over all your pieces so you can examine them. Perhaps you’ve got an easy puzzle, only 25 big pieces, or perhaps you’re in way over your head at 1,000 tiny fractions of a drawing by MC Escher. If it’s closer to the later, there will come a point when all your powers of close observation seem to fail you. For the life of you, you simply can’t find a piece. Perhaps you can come back to it later but dang it, maybe it’s important. If you’re at all like me, there will come a point when you begin to suspect that such a piece is lost. There will be quick moments of despair, anger, and even perhaps suspicion of tampering with the board. Did “they” even include all the pieces? Did one fall out when I opened the box? Did the dog eat one!?! And suddenly you’re prying open your poor dog’s jaws and peering down his throat.

But then you find it. It was there all along, silly! Or maybe it was hidden under another piece. Maybe it had fallen off the board. Maybe you had to put more of the puzzle together before you could see what was missing. (Or, maybe there it was, riding back and forth on a gyrating dog tongue, getting soggier by the minute! Quick! Reach in and grab it! Flick it out!)

Oh, bliss. Oh relief. Oh joy!

My dear friends, I believe I have found a very important missing puzzle piece. One vital to me and Adahlia. And while I’ve been on this train long enough to know not to prematurely celebrate, my inner self knows a huge battle has been won: a discovery of vital information:

Adahlia and I have had leaky guts. We are intolerant, even allergic, to some or many foods.

Does this explain everything? No. But it does explain the rampant inflammation in our bodies. More important: it’s got a clear path towards healing it, even if it is a bit of a pain.

Of course, I had tried eliminating foods before. And it wasn’t easy: I’ve been a happy, seemingly healthy omnivore since forever. When I stopped eating meat for about 6 years, it was for ethical, not health reasons. When people at NCNM, mindful at potlucks of food sensitivity, would ask if I had any, Id happily reply: “Nope! I eat everything!”

And maybe that was true then. It’s not true now, though.

Starting just 2.5 days after her birth, when Adahlia was first suddenly so irritable and clearly in pain, before we knew anything about her anemia, I stopped eating dairy. (It wasn’t lost on me that her colic or evident pain coincided with my milk coming in. But I was not in the place to be able to change much more than cutting out dairy, which is what the midwives and most folks thought was the culprit.)

It didn’t help.

Since last December (with an occasional relapse), I’ve cut way down and gone several long stretches without refined sugar. But mostly what I tried was to just eat super healthy. More healthy than ever before. Juicing fresh, organic, beets, carrots, celery, and apples daily. Mostly vegetarian. Lots of veges. Clean animal proteins. All natural and organic. Supplements of fish oil were followed by chlorophyll, cherry concentrate, wheatgrass, coq10, and other powerful vitamins and antioxidants.

It wasn’t enough.

I switched from instant to steel cut oats for breakfast. I switched from basmati to brown rice. Everything was laden with the healthiest fruits, nuts, seeds, and veges, from all the health perspectives I know. Eventually, in desperation and about a week before thanksgiving, I cut out dairy as well as pastas, bread, and other obvious sources of gluten.

The pain was less, but still prominent.

Finally, 3 days ago, I decided to do an extreme, very limited, “elimination” diet. I’d been putting it off because of worries about not getting enough to eat while breastfeeding, as well as the attachments we all have for our foods and ways of cooking.

But then I was given a preliminary diagnosis of undetermined (as yet) autoimmune disease, and a good doctor (ND) who has been assisting me said: I’m not surprised, given your symptoms. I am surprised they didn’t test for it earlier.

What he was referring to were the bouts of abdominal swelling, cramping, bloating and gas I would experience whenever I’d do any sort of detox or herbal approach to healing. (The first big detox was back in last December, while taking my first round of Chinese herbs. The Chinese medicine practitioner was the first to tell me I likely had autoimmune disease, glomeronephritis, nearly a year before western biomedicine would tell me the same thing.)

And then, doing some research, I discovered that anytime there is autoimmune disease, you will find a leaky gut.

A “leaky” gut? My first year of medical training came back to me. Of course.

You see, the skin is the border between self and other in the external environment. Internally, it’s your gut. And it’s a war zone in there. Only certain things, like nutrients, are allowed passage into the body. Toxic waste and bacteria, etc, are not allowed to pass through an elaborate, tight, semi-permeable wall, much like the skin.

Unless, of course, it’s been compromised. Then, everything can come flooding in. The body’s defensive guys go to town with killing and cleaning up and eliminating. They secrete signals and markers to tell the body to inflame the area, to make more warriors, who carry special poisons to destroy the invaders, and they spread the word: Watch out for these guys, they look like this!! They aren’t supposed to be in the blood!! And even important nutrients that have leaked through, which haven’t been properly transported or fully digested, get tagged for destruction because they aren’t in the proper format, they haven’t been properly digested first.

I thought of how Adahlia isn’t absorbing her nutrients, despite my healthy diet…

Leaky gut.

And these warrior cells are outnumbered by all the stuff leaking through. More and more of it, every day. And they start to panic. And they just start releasing their chemicals everywhere, which of course starts destroying healthy tissue too, and then they mistakenly identify healthy tissue as dangerous, needing to be destroyed, and they can’t tell the difference between self and other anymore, and bammo: you have an auto-immune disease.

And another friend and health practitioner, upon hearing I have autoimmunity, said: Sounds like your whole system has been “down” for some time.

Down? Doesn’t she mean too revved up? My defensive, disease-fighting cells are attacking my own body!

And then I thought about how both Adahlia and I both have low white blood cell counts.

And how western, biomedicine, treats autoimmune disease with steroids.

And I remembered how the immune system warriors just start fighting everything when they get outnumbered and I realized: Holy smokes, my system is down.

And then Thanksgiving happened, and I put a hold on my no-gluten, no-dairy diet and ate a bit of everything.

That night was the most painful I’d had in awhile. So bad, I couldn’t sleep.

I realized I had something here. So the very next day, I went on a very limited diet. More than just dairy and gluten free (which was a very big deal itself for a cheese loving, soft-serve craving, bread and pasta eater!)

No gluten, (no grains of any kind, in fact, including rice or quinoa), no dairy, no eggs, no soy, no corn, no tomato, no sugar, and the list goes on…

Certainly nothing store bought.

Of course, I would have no idea what to cook as far as a meal goes if I hadn’t found an autoimmune elimination/detox menu online. (Search and you’ll find it too.)

The idea is to eat very, very simply of foods that typically don’t aggregate the system. No store bought sauces. Do it for long enough to get things to calm down. Then, the body will begin repairing and replacing cells. You start adding foods back in one at a time. If you have a reaction of bloating, gas, and abdominal pain, you stop. You’re not ready to eat that food yet. You may never be.

Of course, the question is: which foods, exactly, are making my body freak out? Because let’s say I just happen to be sensitive to sunflower seeds. Well, there sunflower seeds in this detox menu. Or maybe I’m not sensitive to carrots. That’s good to know, because carrots aren’t allowed on this detox menu, and I definitely want to be eating them if they are allowed, because they are so healthy and good for us.

Luckily, an easy answer to that question can be found in food sensitivity testing, which is just a simple blood test.

So tomorrow, a dear friend and talented naturopath, Dr Z, at Natura Integrative Medicine, is doing this testing for Adahlia and I both. She is also doing a hair analysis on Adahlua, to check for heavy metal and other toxicity.

(Note: because I know the value of the antioxidants and nutrients in fresh juicing, I am still juicing beets and carrots, even though I’m not “supposed to” according to this particular elimination plan. If I find out I am reactive to them, I will stop. But at this point, with Adahlia’s extreme vitamin A and blood deficiency, I don’t wish to. Fresh juicing is like a big burly bouncer: it escorts free radicals right out of the body. It’s very important if the body is seriously inflamed.)

Though I do have some pain as I type this, I must say that my daily pain in my kidneys has lessened considerably since embracing this elimination diet. I am very excited. My inner guide, the one that was in turmoil despite all the progress with the herbs, acupuncture, surgery, homeopathy, qigong, and reiki, because it kept feeling that we were still “missing something important” has quieted.

We have just identified an area of a huge, potential missing puzzle piece.

Now we just have to find the smaller pieces, the exact ones that comprise it, and a big part of the board will be solved. The rest of the puzzle will fall into place.

The destructive process will stop, and then the other therapies, so good at cleansing debris and restoring healthy tissue, will be able to do their work, now that they are no longer undermined.

My body will heal. So will Adahlia’s.

Just watch.