Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Warning: Not such warm, fuzzy thoughts...
I cried for my sweet baby today. Haven't done that in a long, long while, and don't want to be doing so. I just had one of those moments that made it all real. The physical therapist was here, and when I bragged that he rolled over in his bed Sunday, rather than being impressed, she shrugged one of her shoulders and told me the bed has more give (like it was easier for him there). Then she wanted me to look over his paperwork, and I saw it in print...low muscle tone. I really had to fight back tears and think about something else (the crying came later in the day). It isn't like I don't know the child is going to have problems, but everyone else seems so impressed with his muscle tone, it hurt me to see that paperwork. I know the time is coming when the differences will be apparent and we will be working to catch him up on the skills he needs. I guess I just forgot he was different...and there will be so many days that I will forget that. Hopefully tomorrow will be another one.

I recently read an interview with the actor, John C. McGinley (He plays Dr. Cox on Scrubs). His son has Down Syndrome. He said that at first he wanted to know what he did wrong and wondered what he did to deserve a child with special needs. He said he was completely caught up in himself. Then he talked about his son's major health issues as an infant and said, "Every morning, you see this kid who doesn't really care about you and your issues--the kid needs help." That is when it all changed for him. I am still not there yet. I do wonder how I will handle it if Levi gets teased, how I will feel when he is in school, what I will need to provide for him as he grows. But it is not all about me... That is what I need to focus on today.

If he could just make eye contact with me and smile and act like he knew I was there. Right now I rarely get that. Sometimes I do and it is wonderful, but I was working so hard for that reinforcement this evening after Adam went to bed & Wes was working outside... no eye contact...that's when the tears fell.

2 comments :

Christie Brown said...

April, you are Levi's mother. You know when your child has done something amazing. Rolling over in a soft bed or on the floor is amazing for any baby. Remember, doctors have to remove themselves. They refrain from getting too personal with their patients. They are careful of what they say. I bet inside that doctor was saying wow! You have two beautiful boys, but Levi has the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen! Don't tell my kids I said that!
Love you! Christie

Amy said...

Wish I could give you a hug right now. I am so proud of you for "forgetting." Whatever else happens, Levi and Adam will both be very secure in your love for them as they grow up. This world isn't perfect and that's why we're so glad it's temporary. One day we will get to leave our daily struggles and our earthly bodies behind. But until then, you and Wes will continue to do a bang-up job as parents and I am so not surpised. Your three boys rock and so do you. I love you dearly!