Just Another Day with Hydrocephalus

This morning, Emma and I got an early start to her day. We were both up, dressed, and ready to leave the house by 6:15 AM so that we could get to Children's in Dallas by 7:00 AM. Her schedule for the day was as follows:

• 7:30 AM - check in for MRI
• 8:00 AM - MRI (annual check of her ventricles and shunt to make sure everything looks good)
• 10:00 AM - EEG (test to see if she is still at an increased risk for seizures)
• 11:00 AM - appointment with her Pediatric Neurosurgeon to review her MRI

We didn't have to be there until 7:30 AM, but I always prefer to be early. Plus, Emma gets her morning dose of Keppra at 7:00 AM so I like not having to worry about doing that during our drive in.

After she had her medicine and was all set in her stroller, we headed to check in for her MRI. The plan was for her to get to eat her breakfast while we waited for her MRI at 8:00 AM. But since we were there early and they were ready for us, we did her MRI first and were done by 8:00 AM. She was wonderful as always and the staff was so impressed they gave her a gift basket! Then it was time for breakfast since we had a couple hours before her EEG. We still wanted to get there early just in case they could get her started sooner because the EEG was an hour long test this time and we had an appointment that was scheduled directly after that was in a different part of the hospital. Thankfully, they were able to get her started early so she was finished with just over 10 minutes before her next appointment. Again, the lady administering the test was so taken by how good Emma did that she gave her a little backpack full of toys! I think she felt bad for giving her such an impressive hair style...

When we saw her neurosurgeon, it was more good news- her ventricles looked great! They were slightly smaller, if anything, than they were from her last check. He was astounded by all of the development she has had in the last year since he saw her last and beyond thrilled at how much music had impacted her life. He said if she continues to do as well as she has been, we will start to go to check ups every other year after our next annual check when she is five years old. This was music to my ears!

Surgery #4

Emma had her fourth surgery on January 20th. Thankfully, it wasn't an emergency surgery so it wasn't stressful in that regard. She had been getting ear infections again (regularly) so we went back to her ENT to see what he thought. He recommended her getting her ear tubes put back in and removing her adenoids. He explained that by removing her adenoids, it lowered her chances of having to have ear tubes again and again because they can be a source of the bacteria causing the ear infections sometimes. Since we knew she would be having surgery, we opted to do both in hopes that she wouldn't need more surgeries again later.

This was the first time that I wasn't anxious about everything before surgery. She had had surgery with her ENT before, done well, and would be at the Children's Hospital again where she would be in the best hands. I got her bags packed and was ready to wake her and offer her food/milk just before the cut off times for each that night so she wouldn't be too hungry in the morning. I got her up early to have her last bit of juice before packing us in the car and heading to the hospital. Once she finished and had her epilepsy medication, we were off!

After arrival, we were checked into her room and the Child Life Specialist came in and brought Emma some toys for her to play with while she waited. Once of them, a pink and purple giraffe was hers to keep! It would light up and play music when you squeezed it's chest. She loved it and enjoyed taking Mommy's hand and having it turn the giraffe on.

The surgeries before Emma's took longer than anticipated so Emma's surgery that was supposed to start at ten didn't start until 11:15 AM. While we waited, the "happy juice" medicine kept Emma calm and relaxed. She was content waiting for her turn as long as Mommy kept providing a steady stream of hugs, cuddles, kisses, fish kisses, and anything else that she came up with.

It took about forty-five minutes before her ENT came out and told me that everything went well. Much to her dismay, Emma didn't have to just show she could drink the juice/water mix I had brought her from home like she usually had to do. With having her adenoids removed, they wanted her to eat too before she was discharged. I hadn't brought her any food so we had to find something she would eat. The only thing close was ice cream- not something she likes as she isn't really a fan of sweets. After fighting a couple bites down, we finally got released to go home.

Emma was a little tired and sore from the surgery for a couple days, but was quick to bounce back as always. While it was a day that added a tally to her number of surgeries, any day that is filled with that many hugs and cuddles and kisses is a good one in my book!

CT Scans and X-Rays and Shunt Taps, Oh My!

Emma and I have had a busy couple weeks. On November 12th, she got a viral infection. She was extremely congested and coughed for nearly a week. She stayed home from school Thursday, Friday, and the following Monday, but her pediatrician cleared her to return to school Tuesday and she had been asking to go. After two days back at school, she began vomiting after I put her in bed for the night on Wednesday. After the first time, we got her bathed and all cleaned up. Then came a second wave around 9:30 PM, followed by a call to her pediatric neurosurgeon. Given her last week of fighting off the viral infection, he said to watch her and see if any other symptoms developed. She had no fever and her open soft spot on the back of her skull was not full of fluid. But for some reason, I was still very uncomfortable. I didn't get the sense that her shunt was failing, but since she has been lucky so far and not had a malfunction, we don't know what cocktail of symptoms she will have. When the third wave came and she struggled to purge her already empty stomach, we packed her bag and headed to the Emergency Room (ER) at Children's Hospital.

On the ride there, she had a fourth wave. We finally arrived at the hospital and found the ER entrance. We lucked out as the first parking spot in the parking garage on the ground floor was empty. Once parked, I stripped her down out of the clothes she had on that got messy in the ride there and rushed her inside. Thankfully, I had called ahead and they had put her on a priority list. When we checked in, we were directed to another waiting area. While in that room, she vomited another four times while we waited to see a doctor. It felt like an eternity to me, so I can't imagine what it felt like for her.

When we made it to a room, Emma had to endure test after test after test. They took blood and fitted her with an IV so they could give her medication to stop her nausea. Then came the urine test, but sadly the sample had to be taken using a catheter. Once those were done, next were the orders for the big tests: CT scan, shunt series (7 x-rays), and a shunt tap.

The CT scan and x-rays didn't worry me other than the amount of radiation she would be exposed to. One shunt series is roughly equivalent to one year of natural radiation. I asked that the CT scan be done using a gantry angle in hopes of avoiding any exposure of her eyes and thyroid to more radiation, but was told their machines couldn't do them at an angle. After reviewing everything, the pediatric neurosurgeon said everything looked normal. The shunt tap was next and that procedure did make me nervous. It was her first time to have one and I knew it could be painful. The pediatric neurosurgeon was very kind and great at explaining everything she was doing. They put a numbing cream on Emma's scalp where her shunt was to try to minimize her discomfort. Then came the time to be brave. I held her head still so she wouldn't move when the pediatric neurosurgeon performed the shunt tap. A nurse held down her arms and legs. She was so strong and brave- I was so proud I was tearing up. The pressure was between 4.5-5 and the cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) was crystal clear just as it should be. Visually, there seemed to be no issues with her shunt. To be sure, they took a sample of CSF to be sent off to be tested. 

At that point, we were told, as long as she could drink something and keep it down, we could go home. Here came a completely different set of challenges. Emma is picky when it comes to the liquids she will willingly consume. She loves milk and will also drink watered down juice- but not straight water or juice. She is also picky as to which delivery systems she will happily utilize. This posed a challenge given the cafeteria was closed and the nurse had limited resources. She found some apple juice and used pedialyte to water it down. But the bottle was not the one Emma was used to so she resisted. After the night she had just endured, I can't blame her. Thankfully, after struggling with the juice for around 20 minutes and barely having an ounce, the nurse found milk on the seventh floor. Hallelujah! Once she had three ounces of milk down, the nurse said we could go. We packed up her dirty clothes, got the discharge paperwork, and headed home. We got home just in time for her epilepsy medication. I offered her some milk and she crashed in my lap.

It was a long night for both of us, but I was so proud of her for doing so well despite everything she was going through. I took about an hour nap and worked from home that day so that I could be near and keep an eye on her. I knew it would be a rough day for her getting back to her normal schedule as best she could after being up all night getting tests done at the ER, but she's a fighter. She vomited one more time around 4:30 that afternoon, so I stayed up all night Thursday to make sure everything was alright. Work Friday was a blur, but thankfully she did well all day. We had a follow up appointment with her pediatrician around lunchtime where we were given directions on how to slowly reintroduce her normal diet into her routine after going through everything. She confirmed there was a nasty viral infection going around in our area that was causing the same symptoms Emma had presented with Wednesday night. Emma's system was just already weakened by the other viral infection she had been fighting for a week that this one hit her pretty hard.

I'm extremely grateful that this wasn't her first shunt malfunction, but I know her luck will likely not last forever. We will have several nights like that night where she will show just how strong she is as she gracefully looks hydrocephalus in the eye and says, "I got this, Mommy!"

What a Weekend...

While I am still trying to absorb all of what has happened in the last forty-eight hours, I'll do my best to summarize. Friday night, Emma was picked up by my ex at 6:00 PM for his weekend visitation. At some point during his drive back to his apartment, she started coughing and gagging as if she might vomit. He texted me asking if she had been acting any different that day, but I told him she hadn't. Then he called around 6:30 to tell me what was going on and I told him to call Acute Kids or take her to an ER. He got off the phone with me and called Acute Kids.

Just over an hour later, he called me back to tell me that Acute Kids told him to take her to the ER, so he was taking her to Baylor in Grapevine. He texted me again to tell me they were going to transfer Emma to Children's Hospital. I asked him if she was having a shunt malfunction and if they had told him what was wrong and he responded they didn't know, but it looked like she had a seizure. Since Emma never had a seizure before, I immediately felt like the floor below me disappeared and the room went dark. I quickly texted back asking if she was stable and he stated she was, and that they had given her anti-seizure medication. At that point, I turned around and went straight to Children's. I beat her there and had to wait. It felt like hours passed before I finally saw her being rolled into her room on the hospital bed knocked out and looking so weak. My heart dropped and it took all my strength not to cry, but I kept composed and just spoke to her and rubbed her hair out of her face until I could hold her.



The doctors at Children's had lots of questions about what had happened that led up to the ER and after. I looked at my ex and said she was with him so he'd have to answer their questions. I hated that I wasn't there for her and didn't know what had happened so I listened as intently as I could so I could understand what she had been through. This was the first time I heard the full story of what happened, and as the words came out of his mouth, I felt weak and strong simultaneously; weak because of feeling like I should have been there to comfort her, and strong because I knew she needed me to be strong for her.

He described how she had coughed and gagged in her car seat on the way to his apartment. He stopped on the side of the road to get her out and she was a limp noodle. He put her back in the car seat and went to his apartment. When he arrived, he placed her on his floor on her side in case she needed to vomit. Her left arm began to move rhythmically and then her left leg did as well. Her eyebrows started twitching, her face grew pale, and her lips turned blue. Then he took her to the ER. The Children's doctors then asked how long the rhythmic movement had been going on before they gave her the anti-seizure medication at the ER. He said he couldn't be sure, but he estimated it to be twenty to twenty-five minutes. He said they did a CT scan on her and took blood. I was shocked by his story as I hadn't heard any of it except what happened in the car ride to his apartment. I was frustrated he hadn't kept me well informed considering he had two hours from when he arrived at the ER to when she left to be transferred to Children's.

Around 11:30, the resident on Emma's case said the neurologist had reviewed CT scan from Baylor and said her ventricles in her brain actually looked smaller than they did compared to her MRI she had back in March, so he felt she was not having a shunt malfunction. This was a huge relief, but it also meant we weren't certain what caused the seizure in the first place. To try to figure out more about her seizure, the neurologist ordered an electroencephalogram (EEG) to analyze her brain waves. The resident did say that they usually don't perform those tests on the weekends unless it is an emergency, but maybe we'd get lucky.

My ex decided he was going to go down to the cafeteria for some food and offered to bring me back something just after midnight. After he brought back a sandwich, he told me he was going home for the night because the room was too small. I was disappointed in him again for not staying for her, but not surprised.

Fast forward through the night and the morning and we finally heard the magic words, "we are going to do her EEG now." Only one parent could go with her and my ex said I should go. So Emma and I left around 11:45 AM for her first adventure away from her room. We got to the test room and the technician got her ready by making marks all over her scalp where the little electrodes would be placed. Once she was ready, the test lasted forty-one minutes. She slept for the first part, but then the tech said she would need to be awake and interacting for the second half. She didn't really want to wake up, but thankfully she obliged. She slept through the clean up and the whole way back to her room.

We tried off an on to see if she was ready to drink some milk and finally she did around 3:00. She drank about five and a half ounces before the neurologist came in and wanted to check her over. So we had to stop her even though it was the first thing she'd had since she left my house around twenty-one hours prior. He stated he felt she had epilepsy and would be placed on a daily medication, but he didn't know which one and wouldn't until after he reviewed EEG which should be around 4:30. So it was time to hurry up and wait.

When 4:30 came and went, I began to get antsy. I knew my dogs would be needing to go out soon but didn't want to miss the doctor reviewing the results. Finally at 5:45, I spoke to the resident and asked if she had anyway of knowing where on the list Emma was for the neurologist. She assured me that since he was so busy (with over thirty patients), I had a couple hours at least before he would review the EEG results and talk to us about them. So I went home and grabbed stuff in case I'd be staying another night if she wasn't released.

At 6:15, my ex texted that neurologist called the nurse with the EEG results. He felt Emma was at more risk for future seizures than an average child and would need anti-seizure medication daily. I was back at the hospital by 7:00 and hopeful she'd be leaving soon. By 8:00, she was being discharged and it was time to review paperwork and learn about her new medications. About an hour later, I put her in the car seat of my ex's car and kissed her goodbye. It killed me that she wasn't going home with me, but I knew she'd be home with me again in just twenty-one more hours. Since I still couldn't sleep, those twenty-one hours felt almost as long as the last twenty-four at Children's.

But, I'm happy to say she's home now. She finally ate for the first time since lunch on Friday with me and drank all her milk as well. I'm so proud of her for handling this weekend so well. Now it's time for me to try to sleep for the first time since Thursday night.

Gallery of Hope

Medical City Children's Hospital
Emma's first home

Emma was born at Medical City Children's Hospital in Dallas. On May 19th, we attended the first neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) Reunion since she was born. The reunion is held every year as an opportunity for children that have spent time in the NICU to come back and see the people that helped them at the beginning of their journeys and show them the progress they have made. There are activities of all kinds addressing all levels of abilities so that every child can enjoy themselves at the reunion. It was uplifting ad inspiring to see other children working to overcome their challenges with their supportive parents encouraging them every step of the way. Knowing you're not alone is a concept that is hard to grasp, but seeing you're not alone is tangible and means so much more. While we were there, I saw someone that had been instrumental to me during the weeks leading up to Emma's birth. As the Fetal Programs Manager, she coordinated my care and the care of Emma from the day she was born. She was responsible for making sure all the correct doctors for both of us were present and accounted for on the big day. She also had a contingency plan worked out to coordinate the transfer for both of us should anything happen that would inhibit our ability to make it there on our own. Inspired by her personal strength, I believed I could walk down the path before me under my own power if I could just open my eyes and see the strength the journey would require within.

Strength is sometimes an elusive characteristic. Until tested, a person may not fully be aware of the strength they possess; as was the case when I finally realized I was going to be a single mother to a beautiful baby girl who would need my strength more than most daughters need the strength of their mother. She was going to need me to fight for her when she needed me to, but also have the restraint to let her fight for herself when she needed to. Emma would need me to ask the tough questions of the nurses, doctors, and surgeons that were working together to give her the best chance at attaining her future goals, and to make sure that there weren't any other opportunities left overlooked. She was going to need me far more than any other person I knew, or would ever know, for the rest of my life. The truth is though, I would end up needing her far more than she would need me.

I must, in good conscious, admit this experience is not just for my daughter. I thrive when I can see a person's demeanor change for the better; knowing I helped them see something good in themselves they may not have found on their own. I feel best about myself when I am helping others. It is one of my characteristics that shines bright enough that it can't be concealed - not that I would want to, as it is a great part of why I am proud of who I am. However, being selfless can be a character flaw if you don't stand up for yourself - and that has always been my challenge. After having Emma, my personal experiences gave me a new sense of strength and raised the bar for how I would allow myself to be treated. In the past, I was willing to accept less; hoping that people would change and see the error of their ways. That mentality allowed me to believe that less and less was still enough, and over time my bright personality, which had always made me so proud, began to lose its luster. I had lowered my standards without even noticing and had no one to blame but myself. When I started the transition into parenthood and my maternal instincts kicked in (I should say kicked in more as I've always been very maternal), I realized that while I was correct in expecting so much for my daughter, I needed to reevaluate what my expectations were for myself. When you expect more and hold yourself and others to higher standards, the people worth your time will rise to meet them.

Sticker from her 18 month check-up

Emma is now 18 months old and she has shown me more strength than I have seen any other person possess before years of experiences challenged them, hurt them, stretched them, and molded them into an adult capable of being self-sufficient. I consider the people I am comparing her to my peers, and they are people I look up to and respect. Emma may not be my peer, but at only 32.25 inches tall, I still look up to her. The strength she has shown is something I feel others could see and admire if only given the chance. So when I was asked at the NICU reunion if I'd be willing to have Emma's story on their website, I saw it as the perfect opportunity to start helping others as well as help ourselves. The Fetal Programs Manager wanted me to not only tell Emma's story, but also explain why we chose Medical City and what our experience was like. She wanted other parents, who were struggling to see that they weren't alone, to hear stories like Emma's; a story that could encourage them to believe that more is possible than they might imagine.

I believe the first entry of this blog gives a good synopsis of Emma's story. As for why I chose Medical City, the answer is simple: I chose Medical City based on the advice of Emma's neurosurgeon. During our consultation on November 12th of 2010, he stated that, of the two hospitals that he could perform Emma's surgery, he recommended going to Medical City for a planned C-section. After hearing this, I called to schedule a tour of the hospital to see for myself the capabilities of the facility for both Emma and I. On December 30th of 2010, my step-mom took me in for a visit (since I was on full bed rest) and I was shown around in a wheel chair so we could see as much as possible without any additional risk to Emma or myself. While giving me a tour of Medical City, the Fetal Programs Manager was very informative, but more importantly she was calming and reassuring. I felt at ease and comfortable placing our lives in the hands of those employed at Medical City Children's Hospital. Next, it was time to meet the doctor that would be performing my C-section. On January 10th of 2011, when I was 34 weeks pregnant, I had my first consultation with the man that would eventually deliver Emma. The man's skills spoke for themselves; his practice handles all of the high risk cases for Medical City Children's Hospital, including conjoined twins, babies with heart abnormalities, and those born with hydrocephalus. He had more experience delivering babies like Emma than any other Ob-Gyn that I had seen or spoken to. He displayed many traits that were reassuring to me, but the one that stood out above all the rest was his sense of humor - it was slightly off kilter and right up my alley. My step-mom and I instantly felt a level of comfort with him that gave us both the confidence to trust him to do what was needed on the big day. I knew he would give Emma and me the best chance at a life together.

On the day Emma was born, I went in knowing my doctor would perform a trans-abdominal Caesarian surgery that would leave an elongated scar due to the size of my daughter's enlarged head. What none of us knew, prior to that day, was how much more slicing and dicing would be required to get Emma out. They made the trans-abdominal incision on my uterus, but she wasn't ready to venture out into the world - so they made it wider, and she still resisted. Then the surgeon made both the trans-abdominal and classic incisions on my uterus to make the opening larger still... but she wouldn't budge. Finally, the scalpel cut through all the fascia of my abdominal cavity and the nurses pulled the muscles back like drapes. When Emma still wouldn't come out, they had to resort to plain-old elbow grease. The anesthesiologist eventually had to press down on my chest in a desperate attempt to encourage her to come out; it was one of the most scary and painful moments in my life. It took nine minutes in all, but as soon as she was out, I felt immediate relief from the pressure on my lungs which allowed me to breathe deeper than I had in months. Still trying to catch my breath, I remember asking my sister if Emma was alright. She assured me that Emma was fine. My sister took my camera and snapped a couple pictures of the nurses cleaning up Emma. I got to see my daughter's face for only a moment before the nurses took her off to the NICU, but just that moment gave me instant relief. I knew Emma was alright and in the best hands possible. Once they had me stapled up (22 staples - one for every inch of her birth length) and in my room, waters began to get rougher for me. I experienced some complications due to the extra cutting required to get Emma out, although I don't remember much of the first day and a half after the surgery - other than the constant pain. I do know I was wheeled up to the NICU and got to hold Emma because there are pictures of me holding her for the first time, but sadly I have no memory of the experience. At some point on the second day, my nurse, who had been taking care of me during the daytime shift, was talking to other nurses and doctors about my condition because she feared something was wrong. She was an amazing advocate for me, and inevitably got the attention of a doctor who concluded that I desperately needed more blood. I was given two full units of blood while they waited to see if that would be enough for my body to take over again. Luckily, I didn't need any more than that. After the first unit was in, I felt functional again, and after the second, I felt some of my strength return. I am eternally grateful to all the kind nurses and doctors that took care of me; they helped me at a time that I couldn't help myself. The fact that their attentiveness and diligence saved my life is just one more reason I'm grateful I decided to have Emma at Medical City Children's Hospital.

I was finally released to go home after a long week, but I wouldn't be allowed to drive for several more weeks, as the pain medication I was on was too strong to operate heavy machinery. I now had to depend on others to take me to and from the hospital everyday so I could see Emma and bring her breast milk. Luckily Emma and I have a wonderful family and amazing friends that were happy to help. Not only would they take turns giving me rides, but they also coordinated those rides amongst themselves and emailed me the list so I'd know who was going to be coming each day and when. It was incredibly hard to leave Emma at the hospital each night to go home, but I had to remind myself that she was in the best of care and needed time in the NICU to get stronger. I knew she would come home with me; I just had to be patient and let her get there on her own time.

In the meantime, I would spend my days at the NICU holding her, singing to her, and telling her stories. I watched her nurses and OTs closely and asked many questions so that I could learn from the best how to care for my little bundle of joy. Eventually, I was given the opportunity to take over her primary care while I was at the hospital so I could gain valuable experience under the nurses' guidance. Learning how to help Emma drink from a bottle was the only part that made me nervous. I could see how hard she was working to learn how to drink with her OTs, and I wanted to do everything I could to help her continue improving. In the beginning, she was working once a day to consume only a few cubic centimeters of thickened breast milk from a bottle. She had to have a combination of chin and cheek support to help teach her how to manipulate her mouth and suck on the nipple correctly. Emma also needed help understanding she needed to keep sucking. She had to be given stimulation from the nipple of the bottle on her tongue and roof of her mouth to remind her to keep her sucking. Over time, she began drinking small amounts of each of her eight daily meals by bottle. Whatever she could not finish by bottle was fed to her through the tube that went in through her nose and down into her stomach. On March 4th of 2011, I was told she would be able to go home the next day if she could handle all of her meals by bottle over the next twenty-four hours. I was given the opportunity to spend the entire night with her in the NICU so I could take on all of her responsibilities and see how we did as a team. It was one of the best nights of my life because I was there to watch her achieve a new milestone for the first time - no feeding tube for 24 hours. The next day, she had one last challenge to pass - her car seat test. She did that one easily and even slept through most of it. All of Emma's hard work paid off and she was finally able to come home with me. The day Emma came home revealed the main reason I'm grateful that she was born at Medical City Children's Hospital. During her month stay in the NICU, I saw many babies struggle to survive and some parents simply lost in fear as to what they could do to help their fragile children. Through it all, the nurses and OTs were always available and supportive. They encouraged the parents to be involved as much as possible while maintaining the safety of their children. Most importantly, they helped Emma and me get to a point that we could handle things on our own; having her home with me was, by far, the biggest accomplishment I had experienced to date.

On the day of the photo shoot for the Gallery of Hope, I became excited as I thought about the opportunity to share my experience with Emma. I knew that we would be sharing her story with others that might find hope in their own lives after hearing how well she is doing and how far she has come. What I didn't know, however, was just how many people would see and hear her story. I thought the Gallery of Hope was something done by the hospital for their facility alone. I later learned, from the photographer, that it was so much more. She told me that the best pictures taken that day would be put on a canvas with Emma's story written and displayed on an easel in Children's Hospitals all across Texas. The gallery would travel from hospital to hospital, and even spend some time in the state Capitol. It was scary for me to think about how much more publicity Emma and I would receive from this, because being candid about this much of my personal life is far, far outside of my comfort zone.

I only recently started this blog after reading the blog of another mother, whose story about her son I found so inspiring. I figured if her story could move me the way it did, then maybe Emma's story could help inspire someone else. I took an enormous personal-step forward by starting this, and thought I was taking a smaller second step by being involved with the Gallery of Hope. It turned out that the second step is much larger than the first, but it will also be a way for Emma's story to have a direct impact on those that can relate the most to both her struggles and mine. I also told the photographer that she could refer to this blog to help tell Emma's story - something I would normally be hesitant about. So instead of taking two steps forward followed by one step back, I have made three large steps in a positive direction for myself. I believe the portraits will be unveiled on October 25th, at an invitation-only event, but as soon as I get word as to when her portrait will be on display at Medical City Children's Hospital, I will announce it here.