Good morning fellow families of delicate chubby cheeked children who happen to have Cortical Visual Impairment,
This morning’s Mom on Monday is Savannah’s mom, Lacey. Savannah is leading her mom on a journey of joy, challenges, and education.
Sweet Savannah Mae is my little six year old blessing. Oh, how I love everything about her. My journey in life is led by a little girl. She is paving the way. She is my tiny little teacher.
Image: A smiling young girl in glasses
It’s been six years since Savannah was diagnosed with cortical visual impairment. That day will forever be stamped in my heart. Savannah was diagnosed with cortical visual impairment at 8 months old. Before the diagnosis, I will never forget her six month appointment at our local ophthalmologist. We had been referred by Early Intervention because as our early interventionist put it, “It’s like the lights are on and nobody is home.” Yikes!! I’ll tell you I’m a lot stronger now and I would never stand for that insensitivity, ever. That was a different time and a fragile place so I just went along with the referral.
Our local ophthalmologist had real vision concerns and wanted to refer her to a specialist in Boston. Savannah had a normal eye exam but he thought she might be blind. But wait, she sees her spoon coming and opens her mouth for food and she loves to look at the mirror above her infant swing. She can see. She loves to look at the overhead lights and she knows exactly where they are, even if the lights are off. It went as far as her dad and me calling our overhead lights, “her friends”. Due to her hydrocephalus, I always thought her eyes were just a bit different. They were aligned by this age, at least mostly, and not in the sun setting position due to hydrocephalus. Little did I know at that time.
It had already been a busy eight months, six weeks spent in the NICU and the appointments that followed, all while try to juggle work as a “medical mama”. My little warrior girl had brain surgery at one day shy of one month. Our schedule was filled with appointments, follow up, and just maintaining her overall care. On February 1st, 2012, her dad and I arrived at Boston Children’s Hospital. When our appointment started, Savannah was brought into a room for a preferential looking test (PLT). This is a visual acuity test for young or nonverbal children. Black and white stripes are presented and as they get thinner, an evaluator will determine if the child is looking towards the striped pattern. They use the stripes as an acuity measure which is calculated based on the size of the stripes the child can locate.
Next was a VEP, also known as a visually evoked potential. This test records electrical activity in the vision portion of the brain. The patient is positioned in front of a computer screen with electrodes strategically placed on the patient’s head. The computer screen is a black and white checkerboard pattern. This test evaluates vision functioning in the retina-to-brain nerve pathway. Ophthalmologists might use this as a tool when considering the diagnosis of Cortical Visual Impairment (CVI). Not all children with suspected CVI have this as an option but we are fortunate enough to live in an area with advanced medical care.
Following testing, we met with a highly recommended ophthalmologist. She told us that our daughter was legally blind. She has “cortical visual impairment.” She told us, “We will register with Massachusetts Commission for the Blind and with Perkins School for the Blind.” I tried listening but all I heard was BLIND, not truly knowing the definition, not truly understanding how this could be. She had already been through so much in her short life.
The visit concluded with a prescription for glasses. Savannah was prescribed glasses due to her astigmatism and because she was farsighted. She was getting glasses!! At eight months!! I couldn’t decide to dance in excitement with the thrill of a new accessory or cry because she was a baby and I didn’t know a single baby that wore glasses. I do have to admit she looked adorable in her first frames that were entirely too large for her delicate chubby face.
Image: An infant wearing glasses
The ride home was rough and filled with tears. Mark drove, as I couldn’t contain my tears. I called my mom to tell her and I couldn’t even get out a word because I was crying so hard. As we pulled into our narrow drive, Mark’s emotions were also evident as he hit the side of the neighbor’s house. It was devastating for both of us to get this type of news. The tears continued for a week. And then suddenly, I decided to embrace my journey.
A little more about my sweet little girl. My love for her is something fierce. We share a special bond. She has defined me into who I am today. She is a happy but feisty little girl. She smiles with her entire body, especially to the tune of a xylophone. She fills every crevice of my human body with joy.
My life with Savannah has always seemed complex but normal. It’s my normal. It’s everything I know about motherhood. It is 100% normal to us, even when it might not seem normal to others.
At birth, Savannah suffered a grade 4 brain bleed, periventricular leukomalacia suggestive of hypoxic ischemic injury. Savannah has a diagnosis of hydrocephalus and had a VP shunt placed one day shy of a month old. At almost five years of age, Savannah was diagnosed with Ogden Syndrome, an extremely rare syndrome also known as a Naa10 mutation. I mean, she is a diamond in the rough. And this kid sparkles. Savannah is one of 18 in the world with her exact mutation and 1 of 29 with a variation of the Naa10 mutation at this current time.
But let’s get back to her vision. I remember reading Little Bear Sees, which I highly recommend to any parent of a child with CVI. I remember thinking by her current age she would have near normal vision. We are part of the CVI endorsement so I can’t talk about phases and scores but I can tell you, any child with CVI faces many obstacles. Her vision is anything but typical, but it is what she knows and what we know for her. We are working hard to help decrease the frustration that comes with low vision and nonverbal communication. Along with her vision, Savannah is equally as complex. At this current time, she is not sitting, walking, or talking.
She is happy and loved fiercely.
That is what matters most to me as her mommy.
As a mom, I’m hopeful. I TRY to put the best interventions in place. Savannah continues to make visual progress, especially if food and beverage are involved. She is great at locating objects in her environment using her peripheral fields. I am working hard, as her mom and her advocate, to help her start using her central vision. Her team at school is also working toward this goal. Savannah knows some routines, and she continues to make strides in every area of development. She is an amazing little girl and I am so blessed to be on this journey in life with my sweet Savannah Mae.
Image: A little girl in glasses playing with yellow blocks on a lightbox
Savannah has really inspired me to be the best I can be for her. This journey we are on led me to graduate school. I completed my Masters in Education and I now work as a TVI with the youngest children. I am also very close to becoming CVI endorsed. I absolutely love helping children learn to use their vision but also supporting their families during this fragile time.
Savannah has improved in every aspect of her life but she is on her own chart, in every single way. I once read from a blog I follow of another child with CVI, “she is just inching along”. This is a phrase I like to use now. Milestones are just so big and inchstones are much more appropriate.
Another mom in my Naa10 group wrote an article and hands down my favorite quote, “It’s like raising a giant question mark!” Yes, it totally is!!!
Thank you Lacey and Savannah Mae, this beautiful one-in-a-million girl! Your journey together is helping other families who face similar challenges.