In early May, many weeks before “warm” was a word you could use to describe Estonian weather, the idea of taking a holiday together as a family seemed impossible. Eloise still hated being in a stroller or carrier (all 5 carriers we tried) for more than just a few minutes. And any time we tried to bring her to a place outside our home — like the grocery store — she’d show her displeasure quickly by arching herself backwards and screaming.
So the thought of going on a nature walk or even out to a restaurant seemed like a distant dream. Which is why we came up with a plan back then – Project: Take a family vacation some day. We’d slowly increase Eloise’s tolerance levels until we’d finally get to a place where she could handle something remotely resembling a family vacation. My goal was to get there by summer 2023.
Much to my surprise, within a few weeks of writing that post, Eloise was suddenly (mostly) okay in her carrier. And in her stroller. And in the grocery store. Before we knew it, we’d quickly made it most of the way through our step by step plan. Which is why, in mid July, when our builder (working on our water therapy room for Eloise) and several of our therapists took a vacation the same week, we decided to “practice” this family vacation thing. So we drove 2.5 hours to Tartu, the second largest city in Estonia. Brian and I would continue working remotely — and from our company offices there — and continue our Eloise routines as normally as possible. But from a completely different place. And with lots of eating out – because we’d never brought Eloise to a restaurant before. We called it our “work-cation.”
It was a delight. We visited our first ever restaurants together. We visited our first museum together. We visited our first playgrounds together. And, also a first, we played and rested together as a family.
The contrast from a year ago was not lost on us. Last summer in July, Brian had just taken off work to join me at home because I was not doing well mentally. Eloise was spending 100% of her awake time feeding. She had extreme food intolerances that sent her into hours of screaming and pain nearly every day. She would only nap if she napped on me. She screamed through our once per week physiotherapy sessions, refusing to participate. And the struggle we had with doctors in Tallinn made me want to curl up in a ball and cry. (And this was all before she developed seizures.)
Knowing that Eloise would, at best, reach the mental and gross motor developmental age of 1, I had no idea if the struggles we were experiencing back then would ever get better. I mean, most parents know the newborn stage is rough — but they also know it doesn’t last long. But since Eloise may never grow past the 1-year-old stage, I wasn’t sure how much of a “normal” life we could ever have. Because no one could tell us which of these issues were temporary and which were permanent.
So when we went on a trial vacation in July where we could do stuff together AND even eat the same things — something I thought with her food intolerances last year might never be possible — then it meant that it exceeded every expectation I had.
Over and over again, as Brian and I enjoyed a meal with Eloise in a restaurant, or ate pizza with her on the deck of where we were staying, or watched as she interacted with the tiny mirrors in the museum, or sang her “Baby Beluga” for bedtime, or observed her looks of shock and delight as we played with her on the playgrounds, I just felt full. I felt grateful. I felt happy. I felt satisfied.
That was the kind of life I had been looking forward to once we had kids. And it was the kind of life I wasn’t sure we could ever have.
My favorite memory from the trip probably seems a bit boring and mundane to most. But it was absolutely magical for me (you can see snippets of this in the video from our last day on the trip):
Saturday evening, after our museum visit, the three of us found a chicken restaurant 15 minutes from where we were staying. Instead of putting her in a carrier, Brian and I took turns holding her as we walked through the neighborhood. When we arrived, it was just us 3 and the staff. We both decided on an aperol spritz (a semi-fizzy, sweet orange cocktail popular here) and a chicken sandwich. As we waited, I inflated Eloise’s pillow that helps her use kid high chairs while Brian danced to entertain her. Once our drinks arrived, Brian gave me Eloise to sit on my lap. As I was drinking from my aperol spritz, Eloise definitely made it known she wanted some, too. We both laughed and Brian suggested, “Why don’t we get her a non-alcoholic Aperol Spritz of her own?” “But it’s 7 euros, Brian! That’s a waste of money!” “We don’t do this often – it’s worth it. Let’s get her one.” So we did. And Eloise loved it. Brian and I had fun feeding her through her straw. Once our chicken arrived, we broke off tiny pieces of our meal and fed them to her. We were quiet. The restaurant was quiet. The street was quiet. I sat and savored the moment. And cried. This tiny vignette of our life was exactly what I’d always hoped for. Exactly what I was afraid we’d never get. I felt so grateful. Once we finished our meals, we packed up Eloise’s inflatable cushion, paid the bill, and left. On our walk back home, the sun was beginning to fall. Brian and I talked about what we enjoyed while Eloise insisted on getting kisses from me. It was a good day. A full day.
Those following us may remember our vacation best because on the Sunday we planned to go home, instead we ended up visiting the local hospital to check out Eloise’s unexplained new motions. Monday we were admitted and Tuesday we went back home to Tallinn. Thankfully, in the months since our work-cation, the episodes Eloise was having have mostly disappeared. And, even better, I think we have an explanation that came from the instagram community — a harmless, non epileptic neurological activity called “shuddering attacks (video).” Which means, even if they continued, if that’s really what they were, it means it’s totally okay.
Was it scary at the time to think she might be having seizures again? Yes. Was a hospital stay what we’d hoped for or planned on our “work-cation?” No.
But, ultimately the happy memories were so big and so joy-filled and so good, that they feel much much bigger and sturdier and more important than the hospital stay.
For that I am grateful.
And, so I can keep watching these memories over and over and remember how thankful we are, 3 videos from our days in Tartu.
To many more joy-filled moments that are bigger than the hard ones,
Mallory, Brian, & Eloise
Eloise The Tiny Fighter 