I am One Tough Cookie in my Wonder Wear

When Olivia began vitamin D supplementation we hoped her growth rate would improve. Before beginning supplementation, she was well below the lowest line on the growth curve, in a fraction of one percent. We hoped for a lengthening in her arms and legs that would improve her overall proportions. We also hoped she could make up some lost ground with her overall length.

As she approached the age of two, though her bones showed visible strengthening and her alkaline phosphatase levels were again within normal range, we faced sobering news. Olivia’s growth was leveling off. Our baby, at twenty-one months was 28 inches tall and weighed 18.5 pounds. We made the decision to begin growth hormone therapy on her second birthday.
There were very few times I cried during those first two years. The day we learned Olivia’s growth rate was slowing brought tears. There was no guarantee growth hormone therapy would work. If Olivia’s body was unable to make growth hormone on its own, supplementation could potentially be successful. If Olivia’s body already made growth hormone on its own, but didn’t know how to process it, the additional growth hormone would make no difference.

Olivia has an amazing spirit. We have often said, “The only thing tiny about Olivia is her size.”

Facing the world at a height of less than three feet is a daunting challenge for a spirit of any size. We prayed for the best.

I was very nervous when we received our training to begin injections. I had handled the contact lens without a problem, though I didn’t wear contacts myself. I had weathered the eye surgeries. This was, somehow, different. Fortunately, Chris had previous experience giving injections and took the lead. He was also very encouraging, insistent I learn, too. The Genotropin pen is designed to minimize discomfort and Olivia would later criticize flu vaccinations for not using a similar needle and technique. Fortunately, I mastered the technique and Olivia, after weeks of blood draws was an amazing patient. She would try hard not to wiggle, knowing it would hurt less if she didn’t and we had to promise not to breath. The same promises still hold true.

She once told me just before her shot, “I am one tough cookie in my wonder wear!”

We laughed and laughed and you know what? She is!

I once heard a physician at St. Jude’s say, “We would never wish a serious illness on a child, but those who survive grow up to be really cool adults.”

Olivia will be a real cool adult. Her sister Mikayla will, too.