Welcome to the Team Avery Website!

In the spring of 2008 my then 19-month old daughter Avery lost most of her sight to congenital cataracts.
The Delta Gamma Center for Visual Impairments in St. Louis was there for our family in our greatest time of need; teaching us how to alter our lives to incorporate a visually impaired child. To help them continue helping other families like us, we have formed Team Avery/ Team Margaret. ***To read about Avery's story, go to the Archives and visit Blog "Avery's Story" from January 24th, 2010.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Our Happy Ending


By now you have figured out that my blog updates come few and far between. I admire anyone who can write every day, because these days I’m just lucky to get my kids fed and off to school without a hitch. Cooking? Laundry? Blogging? Now that’s pushing it!

First, a VERY belated thank you to everyone who participated in May's 18th Annual Run for Sight (yes, May. Um, I'm  a little behind). I still tear up when I think about the over 120 contributers to TEAM AVERY: a journalist who donated, twice, in honor of his sister; my sweet girlfriend Jenny whose  daughter has had a worse fight than Avery; my sister, brother-in-law, and Lulu, who drove 20 hours round-trip from Atlanta (with a screaming baby) to support us; girlfriends from days past whose generosity I will never forget; sorority sisters forever in my heart; new friends and old friends joining together...my aunt, may she rest in peace, fighting cancer for the third time and yet telling me repeatedly that she was inspired by my child. 

In my Letter to Avery I wrote about our overwhelming success, and I apologize that I never posted pictures of everyone who showed up.  Here is a link to the results page: http://www.dgckids.org/runforsight/  or http://www.dgckids.org/  We actually ranked 3rd place in fundraising, and Brian and I donated the prize to another DG family. I will never forget the image of over forty people wearing pink in honor of my little girl. A shadow box in Avery Claire's new room holds her tee shirt from the day, as well as the TEAM AVERY group picture and other memorabilia from her two Run for Sights. I hope it will always serve as a reminder to Avery of how special she is, and how big an impact one little girl can make.

I want to next acknowledge that this blog has been my family’s story – and my heart - put out there for anyone to read. It is full of my experiences and my opinions. Our world was shattered when our first-born child suddenly lost her sight one Spring. We have been open from the beginning in the hopes that Team Avery would touch someone’s life; that from our darkness another person might find light. I am extremely proud that so much money and awareness has been raised from our child's story. But when I first opened up our life to cyberspace, I never dreamed how other people would touch my life back. This journey has introduced me to friends and kids with similar and worse situations, and you all have been a source of inspiration in times of doubt. It is anyone’s right to judge me, laugh at me, or roll your eyes while you read. I know I’m no one special. I’m just a mother of an amazing little girl whose world turned dark…and I chose to write about it.

 It has now been one month since Avery Claire’s last eye surgery; two months since we began our final attempt to improve her sight. I won’t bore you with details, except to mention that two hours into the first surgery our surgeon came out to reconsent us. He wanted us to know that a lens looked impossible given the anatomy of Avery’s eye and the toll the disease took on surrounding tissue.

Which is why it gives me immense pleasure to tell you that Avery has not one, but two synthetic lenses now…one in each eye. Astonishing success. She has gone from not being able to even SEE your typical eye chart – let alone the letters on it – to having 20/25 vision in both eyes. Without correction. She currently functions without glasses, although she will be getting a prescription for bifocals to help her read. It is absolutely the best-case scenario for Avery’s situation, and in our hearts, a miracle. Sometimes my husband and I just look at each other and say, “the nightmare is over.” From such pain has come unbelievable joy.

 Someone once cruelly described my daughter in her cataract glasses as “someone who looks like she rides the short bus.” Today you could not pick her out of a crowd of other preschoolers. Instead of immediately noticing that Avery Claire has a disability, you will now meet her and notice her sparkly brown eyes, curly blonde hair, and happy grin. Watching her play one afternoon, it struck me that anyone who meets my little girl from now on will not immediately know what she has gone through. The three years of surgeries, the therapy, the tears…it is all neatly tucked away and becoming part of her past. Maybe when someone gets to know Avery they will learn her story,  but it is no longer an attention-grabbing disability or the elephant in the room.

 While I will never be glad that Avery had to go through this disease, I will forever be thankful for the lessons it taught me. Like to strive to find a blessing in each day. Even the bad ones. As cliché as it sounds, the things you take for granted today may be ripped away from you tomorrow. 

 I learned that there are always people who have it worse…but that does not mean your tragedy isn’t horrible. I think it is okay to have moments where you are angry, sad, and think life is unfair. But I don’t want to live my whole life like that. There exists a choice: to become a victim or to use your grief to change the world around you. I want to look back and think that our struggle made a difference. 

And finally, I saw firsthand how the support of family and friends can get you through your darkest days. Thank you for your love…and most of all, for the way it made me strong for my little girl.

 It’s very easy to talk breezily about “the things I’ve learned from Avery’s blindness.” Of course it is. I had the fairy-tale ending. My daughter’s complicated case made her final result practically a miracle. Most of the children we know do not have stories with happy endings. For that reason, our family will continue to raise funds and awareness for kids that have visual impairments. I will still hit you up to participate in various events; to support a cause I will always have a personal connection to. Team Avery will live on as a tribute to my little girl, and more importantly, our small way of touching the futures of children not as lucky as she was.


See you this Spring.

Monday, August 9, 2010

A New Day

Hello Sports Fans!  Welcome to a special edition of the Team Avery blog.  I know it's not "Team Avery Season," so obviously I have an important reason for getting back on the horse after five months of not writing.

The summer has been eventful, to say the least!  I'm now writing from our new home in Macon, Georgia.  Yes, we are still owners of our St. Louis home.  No, this is not a good thing.  Our move started off with a bang, to say the least!  The week prior to our leaving, Auden had a febrile seizure (ER visit #1), Auden broke my nose (ER visit #2), and Avery fell out of bed and fractured her clavicle (ER visit #3).  This all made for a very interesting drive down to Georgia, where everyone but Brian was sucking down Advil like it was our job.  We survived and are all fine now.  Avery celebrated her fourth birthday this July...for the third time.  It's safe to say that she now thinks she gets a birthday party once a week.

So far, all I can say about Macon is that...it's hot.  Like, insanely, 100 degrees at 9pm hot.  The kids and I don't have a wide variety of activities to do right now, so we spend much of our time in the inflatable baby pool outside.  We live a little out in the country, and sometimes we even see deer in the yard - which Auden refers to as "puppies."  Avery went to a day camp at her new school; other than that, there is a whole lot of TV going on.  

Avery's health has been...well, typically Avery!  After a short break where we had weaned her off all her asthma medications, she suddenly had a bad episode that was difficult to get a handle on.  Thus she is back on her nebulizing routine and prescriptions.  We also saw a new pediatric neurologist for a second opinion on tests that had been done in St. Louis.  Avery now officially carries the diagnosis of Pervasive Developmental Disorder Not Otherwise Specified (PDD - NOS) and Aspergers (on the mild side of the autism spectrum but NOT autism).  She will resume Occupational Therapy for this and developmental delays this Fall.  Avery also starts preschool at Stratford Academy on August 19th - go Eagles!  We can't wait to see our cutie in her little plaid uniform.

Now on to the big news.  On Tuesday August 3rd we drove up to Emory in Atlanta to visit Avery's new Ophthalmologist, Dr. Scott Lambert.  Besides being a pioneer in placing Intraocular Lenses (IOCs) in infants as well as one of the top specialists in the country for pediatric congenital cataracts, he is also a really nice guy.  Brian and I were immediately impressed by how confident yet humble this man behaved.  Avery's direct quote:  "I like this doctor!"  Let me assure you, those words have NEVER come out of her mouth before!  Bottom line is, we trust this man to take good care of our princess.

After the exam, the consensus was to again attempt placement of IOCs.  If you've ever chatted with me about our situation, you know that Avery went through this surgery once, at age 22 months, when her cataracts were first removed.  At that time, her Ophthalmologist hoped to remove the diseased lens from her Right eye and then replace it with a synthetic lens during the same surgery - to be repeated on the Left eye.  After a few hours in the OR he judged the procedure too dangerous given the anatomy of Avery's eye...a decision we were behind 100%!  Two weeks later her Left cataract and lens were removed.  Thus Avery has spent the past 2 years aphakic (without lenses) and sees only light and color without correction.  She does not have any peripheral vision and struggles with depth/height changes.  We have been extremely blessed that she had the option to wear glasses that function as a lens (aka, her cataract glasses). These allow her between 20/50 and 20/70 vision...when they are clean, that is!  

So this is the plan:  Avery will go into surgery at the Children's Hospital of Atlanta this coming Thursday, August 12th.  Once she is under anesthesia, Dr. Lambert will examine both eyes.  His goal is to fix a scar on Avery's Left pupil (the one shaped like a diamond - we call it her "cat eye") AND to place a synthetic lens.  If this first surgery (on her Left eye) is a success, Dr. Lambert will operate on Avery's Right eye within 2 to 6 weeks. She will wear a patch for weeks while she recovers.  With these IOLs, Avery will still not be able to accommodate and will rely on bifocals to read and sharpen her distance vision.  However, IOLs decrease her risk for glaucoma, and she will also regain peripheral vision.  She will be able to carry out activities of daily living (e.g., taking a bath) and swim without glasses. Best-case scenario: IF the surgery is a success, Avery will no longer be totally dependent on glasses!  

Obviously I am joyful, albeit cautiously optimistic.  It seems too good to be true!  And let's face it, we have already been through this roller coaster once.  I remember being in the hospital gift shop with Brian and my mom during Avery's first eye surgery.  We were so hopeful; we bought her a big bright pink and purple flower pinwheel.  Everyone was so excited to think that Avery would be able to SEE it once she recovered.  Then we got the phone call that the lens was removed without any replacement.  Avery came out of surgery as blind as when she went in.  The pinwheel sat my diaper bag as we scrambled to give our girl a present that didn't require vision.

I've been through many different emotions this week.  I'm so happy that Avery gets a second chance!  She has the opportunity to regain a major portion of her sight.  Our family is so incredibly blessed to have this hope.  However, the thought of watching my sweet daughter go through more surgeries is also absolutely heartbreaking.  These will be surgeries number 5 and number 6. Granted, we have friends who have been through so much worse it's astounding.  I feel like a baby for doing anything other than cartwheels!  But the thought of more eye surgery has taken me back to the darkest time of my life, a place I try daily to forget about.  I can't help but see Avery's little baby face when she was a 19 months - looking at me and not seeing me.  The crawling, the blank stares. When I lie in bed at night I hear her frightened screams.  I think of all the therapy it has taken to keep Avery from falling behind; I think of all the struggle it took to get Brian and me to a place of acceptance.  While I am ecstatic at the possibility of success, I'm not ready to relive the letdown we had two years ago.  

The other strange reaction I've had is guilt.  I feel guilty that my daughter is able to have a second chance at sight, particularly when we know so many kids whose vision problems are growing worse.  Not to say that they do not have full, normal lives because of visual impairment - they do.  But it is painful to watch your child struggle SO much to do things that others take for granted.  I wish that every parent and their visually impaired child had the same opportunity we have.  Which is why, even if Avery's vision is improved, I will continue to work to raise awareness (and funds) for programs that support these kids.

When we told Avery about the surgery, we only explained that "the doctor just needs to work on your eyes."  At first she screamed "my eyes are fine!!  NOOOO!"  Today however, when I brought up the subject again, Avery assured me:  "Don't worry Mom.  I'm a brave girl."  Too true.

There is a song by Celine Dion we used to sing to Avery when she began going through her eye trouble.  For some reason the lyrics gave Brian and me comfort then, and have helped me find strength now.  I've found myself lately humming it to Avery.  Please think good thoughts for us this Thursday; say a prayer if you are religious.  We'll keep you posted...

I was waiting for so long 
For a miracle to come 
Everyone told me to be strong 
Hold on and don't shed a tear 

Through the darkness and good times 
I knew I'd make it through 
And the world thought I had it all 
But I was waiting for you 

Hush, love 

I see a light in the sky 
Oh, it's almost blinding me 
I can't believe 
I've been touched by an angel with love 
Let the rain come down and wash away my tears 
Let it fill my soul and drown my fears 
Let it shatter the walls for a new, new sun 
A new day has...come 

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

A Letter to Avery

Dear Avery,

Some day you will not be a little girl anymore, and you will certainly ask Daddy and me all about your "Special Eyes."  I'm sure you will hit an age when you despise being different and hate your unique Cat-Eye pupil; you will scream at me for contacts and refuse to wear your thick but adorable wire-rimmed cataract glasses.  Like every other girl, you will just want to be like all your friends.

The scrapbooks and pictures we have kept will explain your disease and the struggle you began at the age of 21 months.  However, the most important thing for you to know cannot be explained by books and albums.  You might not even understand this letter until you have a child of your own.

My sweet Princess Avery, yes...you are different from all the other girls.  You are so, so special. God made you visually impaired, but in doing so He gave you the power to make a difference.  In the two years since you were diagnosed with Cataracts, over $10,000 has been donated to visually impaired children in your name.  Friends and family love you so much, and have moved mountains in your honor. Your story has touched people you have never met, and the money raised from telling your story has helped hundreds of babies just like you.  In your short 3 1/2 years on Earth, you have indirectly bettered the lives of so many.  You are a ray of sunshine.

It is very cliche to say that every cloud has a silver lining, but it's true.  Please don't live your life viewing things in black and white.  Yes, Daddy and I were devastated by your diagnosis.  We would never have wished such pain and struggle on our beautiful first born.  But now, two years out, we can see all the positive things that came from your darkness.  We are overwhelmed to think of the difference your disease has made to others - and the light that you have brought to their lives, as well as ours. You have given hope and help to so many visually impaired kids...as well as their parents.

If you learn anything from reading your scrapbooks and seeing your name in print, learn that it IS possible for one person to make a difference.  At almost 4, you've already made the world a better place. Dream big, precious girl.  The universe is yours for the taking.


“I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do something that I can do.”   Helen Keller
Thursday, April 29, 2010

Two Days Left...

There are only 2 days left until the big day...The Run for Sight is finally here! (Or, as Avery calls it, The "Go, Avery, Go Race." If this sounds eerily similar to "Go, Diego, Go" you are right on the money).

 We have come so far!  Two years ago this May,  
we first noticed Avery losing her sight; a week later she was diagnosed with fully oppacified congenital cataracts.  She had two surgeries to remove the lenses in her eyes and began wearing cataract glasses to see her own hand.  Now she is a bespectacled 3 1/2 year old, full of life and making up her developmental delays.  The prognosis looks great:  this Fall we expect Avery to have two more surgeries to place interocular lenses in each eye. She will always wear bifocals, but her eyesight will hopefully be improved dramatically.

To everyone who has supported TEAM AVERY and the Delta Gamma Center for Visually Impaired Kids, thank you. Thank you for giving kids like Avery a bright vision of their future.  See you Sunday!

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Spring Has Sprung

It's MORTIFYING to realize that I haven't written anything for over a month.  I knew Spring was going to be crazy...I just cannot even begin to explain just HOW crazy it has been.  The Geary household has been busy this 2010.

First and foremost, on March 18th we put our house up for sale.  Yippee!  Finally, six years of a surgical residency is coming to a close.  Oh, I will miss my girlfriends (and the STL Zoo) terribly.  I have had some wonderful moments here in Kirkwood, even though my husband finds it hysterical to refer to St. Louis as "The Lou," like it is prison...as in "I did 6 years of hard time in The Lou and I'll be set free on June 30th."  

We have great memories of this house, but it's time to move on...

The day after our house went on the market, we flew to Macon for a SECOND time to look for a new home - and this time, we had luck!  So far, so good; the inspections have been done and contract worked out. We are on track to close June 1st, move in on June 8th.  The coolest thing about this house (other than the fact that my kids will no longer share a room, hoo-ray!) is that it is across the street from a girl I used to work with over six years ago at Children's in Birmingham!  Not only are our sons born 1 DAY apart, and not only is she also married to a surgeon and understands the lifestyle...but she and her husband also happen to be the nicest, funniest people you would ever want to meet.  I could not ask for better neighbors!  Needless to say, this makes me even doubly excited about our move. 

These are our new digs:

Immediately upon arriving back in STL, it was time to focus on my next project: the Go! St. Louis Marathon. If you've read my blog you know I've been running; what I haven't told you is that I was also training for my first marathon.  Okay, "training" is a little too strong of a word considering I signed up for the race late February and took two whole weeks off in March while I was dealing with buying a house/selling a house.  I finally freaked out two weeks before D-Day and had my husband take the kids by himself (also during an Open House) to get my longest run in...17 miles on the treadmill.  Once.  Let's just say, I will be a hella more prepared for marathon #2.

The race was on a Sunday morning, and I spent all weekend wondering why on earth I had thought running the full 26.2 was a good idea.  A half I was ready for, but the full?  To make matters worse, my husband insisted on studying the course (I was NOT going to look).  Right before I went to bed that night he couldn't help himself and exclaimed "do you know that basically you are running from downtown to our house and back?!"  Thanks honey!  The morning of I was so nauseous I could barely cram down breakfast. No possible way was I actually going to finish this race.  But then suddenly we were there, and I caught the bug.  It was exciting to run past my cheering husband and kids and have the opportunity to show everyone that I was more than just "Avery and Auden's Mom."

Here I am at the beginning of the race:

I won't bore you with what ran through my mind during those 26.2 miles (although I will say that at Mile 20 it's possible I became delusional.  I tried to text my friend Burbs and then realized it said "yyyyyyyyzzzzddkkkkk."  I also noticed that I was running crooked, like those crazy people you see in the desert who haven't had water for 3 days). I also will never eat Gu again.  But...

I FINISHED!  Even better, I never stopped running!  Okay, I walked the water stations but seriously - I have never felt more proud in my life!   The craziest part was that I ran the marathon in 4 hours and 3 minutes...and was, apparently, 23 minutes away from qualifying for the prestigious Boston Marathon (which is why even though I currently can't walk I will probably try again - I'm competitive like that).  I never, ever thought I'd be able to run 26.2 miles, especially while having two young kids, especially while being married to someone who is never home, and ESPECIALLY after all of the drama of Avery's health issues over the last 2 years.  It made me realize how mentally strong I really am...and how much I can be capable of if I want it enough.  Cliche, right?  Okay, it also made me realize that I am ONE BADASS MOTHER ;-)

While I was driving home from the marathon, I called my mom to tell her how I did.  Of course she asked me, "so, what's next on your Bucket List?"  Well, before nursing school I tried to start getting my pilots license and actually flew a Cessna a couple times (no, I wasn't in the plane by myself).  But now I'm thinking that being a Helicopter Pilot would be a lot more fun.  The biggest obstacle will be my husband, who doesn't want to be left alone raising our tiny hellions and thus tries to block some of my crazier pursuits.

My 60-year old mother's response?  "Well, just tell me when you go jumping out of an airplane, because I want to come with you."  WHAT?!!!

Thursday, March 18, 2010

For Sale

Looking at the date of my last blog, it has been a MONTH since I last wrote.  Yikes!  Keeping up a consistent presence here on TeamAvery.com was one of my greatest fears about blogging. The other fear was that no one would read what I wrote in the first place.

I have been seriously busy lately.  In addition to training for the GO! St. Louis Marathon, taking care of Avery's newest medical diagnosis (blog to follow), our TEAM AVERY fundraising - oh, and raising two kids under the age of 4 - we are preparing to move to Macon, Georgia at the end of June.  Yiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!  

The sign went up in our yard tonight, and we will become official over the weekend.  Tomorrow morning we fly in to Atlanta to celebrate my beautiful niece's baptism.  Brian and I are unbelievably excited and honored to become little Elliott's Godparents. From there the four of us drive to Macon for Househunting trip #2.  While I don't have high hopes for finding a house, I cannot WAIT to see Amanda, Anslie, and Tiffiny.  Those girls have been phenomenal and have made the Macon-aspect of our move a pleasure. 

So, hang in there with me!  I have a ton of funny Avery stories, information about her health status, and a billion pictures that I'm just dying to post.  Until I talk to you again...know anyone needing a cute little bungalow in The Lou?
Thursday, February 25, 2010

Fear, Grief, and Giving Back

For the past two weeks I’ve been a mess.  (Yes, for those of you that are thinking it, even WORSE of a mess than usual).  I’ve just felt sad, down-in-the-dumps, depressed – whatever you want to call it.  First I attributed the somber mood to winter…I HATE the cold!  Then I decided it must be a result of our impending move to Georgia.  As happy as I am to head back South, it is an extremely stressful time.  Sorting through your things to evaluate what stays and what goes; packing up a life you’ve spent 6 years building…it’s emotional. 


But usually I’m pretty tough, emotionally speaking.  I tend to go running instead of dealing with my feelings directly. So imagine my surprise yesterday when I began CRYING during “Celebrity Rehab.”  Sobbing.  I’m embarrassed to even admit I watch such trash, let alone that it brought me to tears.  (Which is why I immediately followed my sob-fest by taking a pregnancy test.  NEGATIVE – phew!! Not that I actually thought I was with child…I tend to be an angry pregnant lady, not a weepy one. Poor, poor husband).

But it wasn’t until late last night – after I began crying because the Serena and Lily fabric swatches I ordered did NOT look like they appeared on the computer – that the source of my turmoil became clear. Surprisingly, Brian was the one who figured it out. 

My son turned 17 months old last Thursday.  He is the spitting image, size and shape of his sister Avery when she was a toddler…and close to the age of 20 months old. The age Avery was when she developed cataracts.  When she went blind, and my world collapsed around me. 

I was six-months pregnant with Auden when she got the diagnosis. I remember holding Avery during her second post-op visit and hearing that my unborn son had a 50% chance of developing the same congenital cataracts his sister was now dealing with. I stood, speechless, in the Ophthalmologist’s office: one baby in my arms, one baby in my belly. The thought of my second child losing HIS sight seemed beyond cruel. 


I felt so lucky when Auden was born healthy.

Since birth our Ophthalmologist has checked his eyes every 6 months, and of course I keep my own “eyes” on him. So far we’ve had nothing but great news. But in the back of my mind I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.
  I try to think positively, because “fifty-percent chance of developing cataracts” can also mean “fifty percent chance” of NOT developing them.”  But no amount of positive thinking keeps the turmoil at bay for long. Behind my happy smile on most days, there is raw fear.

The closer Auden gets to the age Avery was when she lost her sight, the more of a mess I become.  The past is resurfacing, and memories I want to forget are popping up.  In that Summer of 2008 the rapid surgeries, recovery, therapy, and new baby happened in a mere three-month span, and I was constantly too busy to process what was actually happening.

Suddenly I am being forced to think about that time again. All  the sadness, guilt, and anger that came as a package deal with my daughter’s blindness is resurfacing. I look at my son and I can't help but see my daughter at the same age, playful and unaware that in 3 months her life would forever change.

I haven’t gotten to the place where I can accept all that happened. So now that I realize why I'm so emotional, what will I do? I'll continue to run. And, I'll continue to throw myself into Team Avery. There is something so cathartic about taking your own grief and using it to help better someone else's life. Everytime I see that someone has donated or chosen to run/walk/cheer with Team Avery, I am buoyed up with happiness. I know that those dollars will go to a center that touched my life during my greatest sorrow. To a center I know will be there for me if ever I go through this journey again.

I hope that, by sharing my story on this blog, someone out there will be be moved enough to touch the life of a family they will never meet. And I hope you know how this helps me: I was once on the receiving end of a donor just like you. By supporting Team Avery, another mother will be able watch her blind or visually impaired child's life blossom. You never know who that child may be.

Sunday, February 14, 2010


TEAM AVERY is very excited to give an update on our fundraising efforts for the 18th Annual Delta Gamma Run for Sight.  With two and a half months to go until the race, we have had 53 contributors and raised over $3,000 so far...75% of our goal!  So far we have 22 people (and 7+ babies) running and walking with Team Avery.  Please tell your friends and family members to sign up!  There is plenty more room to join our army of pink!

Please enjoy some pictures from last year's race.  I'm so happy that we already have a MUCH larger team then 2009's Team Avery!  

I'd like to thank the following supporters for their donations to Team Avery:

Contributors on Behalf of Team Avery

  1. $250.00 from Tiffiny & Bryan Weidner
  2. $250.00 from Urology Specialists of Georgia www.UrologySpecialistsofGA.com
  3. $250.00 from Matthew warren
  4. $100.00 from Michael Kissel
  5. $100.00 from Peter Murdough
  6. $100.00 from Kathleen Nelson
  7. $100.00 from Mimi & Baba
  8. $100.00 from Amanda and Frank Casey
  9. $100.00 from Ben & Heather Lietz
  10. $100.00 from Joshua & Anslie Perkel
  11. $100.00 from Nayak Plastic Surgery Mike Nayak
  12. $75.00 from James Cummings
  13. $50.00 from David Grosshans
  14. $50.00 from Louis Imbrogno
  15. $50.00 from Kathleen Gee
  16. $50.00 from Teresa Unser
  17. $50.00 from Allison Burbage
  18. $50.00 from Nate and Becky Kelley
  19. $50.00 from Nilay Gandhi
  20. $50.00 from Patricia Kearney
  21. $50.00 from Erin Geary
  22. $50.00 from Brook Gavlick
  23. $50.00 from Sam Inman
  24. $43.00 from Jody Capdeboscq
  25. $43.00 from Kathy Thompson
  26. $43.00 from Allen Clack
  27. $43.00 from Mark Schumacher
  28. $40.00 from Catherine Glavan
  29. $30.00 from Gail Buente
  30. $30.00 from Linda Fry
  31. $30.00 from Jennifer Knuckles
  32. $30.00 from Melissa & Stephen Hane
  33. $25.00 from Barry Robichaux
  34. $25.00 from Kutz Rehm
  35. $25.00 from Rebecca Rightley
  36. $25.00 from Stacey Iofredo
  37. $20.00 from Corrigan Browne
  38. $20.00 from Erin Griffin
  39. $20.00 from Gretchen D'Huyvetter Cobb
  40. $18.00 from Ben Lietz
  41. $18.00 from Maggi Fitzgerald
  42. $18.00 from Mike Fitzgerald
  43. $18.00 from Janeen Foerster
  44. $18.00 from Jane Hornby
  45. $18.00 from John Foerster
  46. $18.00 from Kaitlyn Cafazza
  47. $15.00 from Joan Edmonds
  48. $15.00 from David Brandt
  49. $10.00 from Michael Gruss
  50. $10.00 from Kevin Ostrowski
  51. $100.00 from Louise Billingsley
  52. $50.00 from Vicky Waddell
  53. $25.00 from Erin Hake