How it All Started
“When you hear hooves, you expect horses, not zebras”
An old saying that dates back to the 1940’s. It was intended
to remind doctors to look for the common ailment instead of the rare. It has
been since adopted by the rare disease community, calling our kiddos with rare
diseases, like WAGR Syndrome, zebras. They are not typical in any way shape or
form. We have to expect the unexpected and can’t predict much of anything.
My perfectly, unexpectedly, rare newborn |
And my family has adopted it. Little Miss is our little
zebra. When she was born, I expected a horse (ok not literally). I expected the
normal, happy, healthy baby to be laid in my arms. Ok this isn’t 100% accurate.
We knew she had a heart murmur but were told this was common and would heal on it’s
on. It did. Life went on expecting normal. We encountered a “normal” tongue and
lip tie followed by a quick revision. Again, we continued expecting normal. But
deep down, I knew life wasn’t normal. I just had no idea how not normal it
really was.
On December 20th, Little Miss wasn’t even a month
old yet, we all went to a “normal” winter holiday party. We were surrounded by
friends, having a merry time, and being quite “normal”. That night definitely
did not end normal. What was a normal, typical night, took a turn for the worst
when, in the excitement of the party, the baby was bumped and we were concerned
she had a head injury. We took her straight to the local children’s ER. After a
very frightening several hours, we were told that there wasn’t any major head
injury but my daughter had a rare condition where she had no iris in her eye
and had bilateral cataracts.
My little black eyed beauty |
The next few days were a whirlwind off doctors, tests, uncertainty,
and google searches. By the end of the year, I was filled with more dread than
hope and still had very little idea of what lay ahead of us.
My research had shown that Aniridia, or the no iris
condition, was typically caused by a dominant trait that had to be passed down.
Layman’s terms, either I or her father had to have it for her to have it.
Obviously I didn’t have it or I would have expected it at birth but her father
was a bit of a mystery. Not being someone I could contact and me not
remembering his eye color at the time, I had convinced myself that he had a
mild case and had hid it from me and lied to me. My mind could not even comprehend
the other option so I fully blamed the one person who was not there. Again, I
still had no idea of how wrong I was.
We finally got into one of the top children’s hospitals in
the world to see a pediatric eye doctor specializing in cataracts. That was the
first step we had towards answers. Such a difference from the doctors back home
who left us with more questions than answers, we actually left with a plan and
an idea of what our future might be. It wasn’t the prettiest future but at
least it was becoming clearer.
Eye protectors after surgery. |
Our new doctor didn’t want the cataracts to remain in her
eyes any longer than they had to and he immediately got us booked for surgery.
What I didn’t understand at the time, all baby’s eyes are born underdeveloped
and the child’s interaction with the world stimulated the growth and
development. The cataracts in both of her eyes were blocking that stimulation.
Surgery was needed to remove the cataracts and give her eyes the most
opportunity for growth and development possible. And when the doctor said he
wanted them out as soon as possible, he was not kidding. We were back in a mere
week later prepping for surgery. That was one of the most difficult things I
have ever had to do. Even with everything else to this point, it’s still the
hardest challenge we’ve faced.
The next few weeks were filled with multiple trips to the
hospital for appointments and follow-ups. We found many more eye conditions in
my child’s delicate eyes. We learned that she has nystagmus which causes her
eyes to bounce. She has foveal hypoplasia, or underdeveloped back of her eye.
This was a bit of a hit to us. It meant that no matter how much we worked with
her and how many opportunities we gave her eyes to develop, she would never see
perfectly. I don’t know if they did it on purpose, but never once in the early
weeks did the doctors say the word blind.
When they remove the cataracts in babies, they do it just
like they do in the elderly, they remove the whole lens. The biggest difference
is that they don’t want to replace it immediately with babies. A baby’s head
grows so much in the first year of life and so does their eye. An artificial
lens doesn’t have the same ability as the natural lens to grow with the eye.
Our doctor wanted to wait as long as possible, a year was the goal, before
putting the artificial lens implants in. That meant that Little Miss needed
some type of corrective lens. A typical corrective lens in someone with glasses
only has to correct by 2 or 3 points. Little Miss was going to need a
correction of upwards of 25 or higher. Glasses for that size of a correction
would have been so thick it would not have stayed in an itty bitty frame for
babies. That left contact lenses.
Picture from http://eyepowerkidswear.com/infant-contacts-101/ |
Most people were shocked that my daughter at the young age
of 3 months was wearing contact lenses and the first question most asked was, “but
how does she put them in?” The answer, simply, is she doesn’t. I do. And a new
doctor, one specializing in contacts, had to teach me how. These were not the
soft lenses that most people use. These were rigid hard lenses and had a
special way of handling. Our first contact fitting wasn’t just a fitting, it
was a lesson to me. It was a major anxiety attack. How could I do this to my
poor little baby? She did not like it but could I blame her, she had just had
surgery on her eyes and had never seen the bright lights and colors that
surrounded her after a lens focused it all in her eye. Oh did I not mention
earlier, aniridia comes with major light sensitivity. But after a few lessons
and some major frustration, I learned to put her contact in and out like a pro.
I felt things were starting to normalize (I had given up on actual normal at
this point but had hoped for our new normal). Again I was wrong.
That week led to another surgery, and another, and another.
By mid-March we had 4 surgeries under our belts and a laundry list of eye
disorders and conditions we had been through. We finally had our genetics
appointment. As I said earlier, MOST cases of aniridia are from a dominant
trait being passed down but not all. That other option was that it was caused
by a sporadic deletion on chromosome 11. This option would take the blame off
her father but also include so many other health issues. This was WAGR syndrome.
Now you can see why, in those earliest weeks, my mind couldn’t comprehend this
option.
After we met with the genetics department, discussed in
detail both Little Miss’s history and mine, and had a hefty amount of blood
drawn from the baby, we were put on a waiting game. I was told that the genetic
spread would take a few weeks to come back. I left still feeling very confident
that the tests would show nothing and that her father was completely at fault.
We continued on with our new normal life.
That was March 23rd. April 12th
started out pretty normal, just like that day almost four months previously. It
became our next earth shattering day. I took the kids to a local music class. I
went to the Y for some Mommy time. I went grocery shopping. As I was loading
both the kids and the groceries into the car, I got a phone call that changed
everything. The phone call I was anxiously waiting for but also dreading.
Little Miss had WAGR Syndrome.
I couldn’t believe it. I had convinced myself that she just
had aniridia. I was sure of it. There was no way she could have had WAGR. There
was nothing else wrong with her. I mean, how could there be? My sweet baby had
been through so much already with all the eye disorders and conditions. But
there it was. The nurse explained to me a little of what to expect and what the
next step was but I was numb. I was in shock. Thankfully, the kids were already
fastened into their car seats. They both rear faced too so I climbed in the
front seat and silently cried. I called my mom and told her the news. She
cried. There was nothing else we could do in that moment.