Let Me Count the Whys...

Aksel:  I'm thankful you're with me now!

HEALTHY.  HAPPY.  GROWING.  SMILING. 

Before I had a child, I always heard people say, As long as the baby's healthy...

In my warped, pre-bubby existence, I'd politely shake my head in agreement, shrug the What Ifs off, and toss the possibility of bad aside. 

(FYI:  Bubby is boy-code for baby!)

Don't be mistaken, I'm not saying I was callous, or uncaring.  That's far from the point I wish to make!  I'm just saying I took the life-process for granted.

It's fragility.  The complexities. 

Before my bubby was a speckle of flesh, I was selfish in my assumptions.  A healthy baby was JUST expected.  I didn't respect, or care particularly about, each crucial development and its relevance in creating a fully functional, thriving lump of baby joy.

How deluded was I?  How self-absorbed?!

Let me count the whys...

(1)  Disability affects my family on a personal level.  My father's youngest sibling, Anne Marie, was born with Spina Bifida.  Her disability resulted in leg paralysis, spine curvature, and problems with her bladder and bowel control.

In my opinion, her physical shortcomings barely rival the emotional ones she battles on a daily basis. 

(2)  My parents went into pre-term labor, and lost my brother, Christopher, when I was nine.

My father, a proudly spiritual man, said his passing was a blessing, for had little Christopher survived, he would surely have suffered a multitude of disabilities.

On a personal note, I'll never forget the afternoon my father told me through tears and sobbing that the baby didn't make it, nor will I forget that night.  I slept on a travel cot, in my own bedroom (houseguests, obviously), and we laid awake talking about life, death, and the weight of disability. 

Ironically, it was Labor Day! 

Put your tissues away now...

I write all of this, because I met someone special.  While I was taking time out to have my soles shaved down, I met a grandmother.

(FYI:  Soles shaved down is mommy-code for an hour-long pedicure!)

Midway through my treatment, while we were busily shaking in our massage chairs, we got started on the topic of babies. 

(BTW, does anybody else find nail parlor massage chairs unpleasing?  I'm not a fan!)

After a few minutes, she opened up and informed me that her first grandchild was severely disabled.  Over the course of our subsequent manicure, life, for me, was put into perspective.  A seemingly normal child at birth, her grandson was diagnosed with Angelman's Syndrome at fourteen months.  The real blow hit hard when physicians told the family he would never talk. 

He smiles though, and she finds strength in that.

Check out the following link, one which she suggested, and make a donation today.  Anything helps!

http://www.pattisonsacademy.org/

So, now that I've thoroughly depressed you, I'll tie things up.

Pregnancy has taught me...

Labor has taught me... 

And now, MOTHERHOOD teaches me to respect life!

I will not take one minute of health, of fortitude, of immunity & strength for granted.  Not one beating bat of Aksel's blues, which I'm leaning to believe will be browns soon enough!

We all know normalcy doesn't exist, but to live life and never walk... or never talk... or never see... or never breathe.

I've got so much to be thankful for!

Let me count the whys...

_________________________________________________________

I'm thankful for Aksel when he cries.

I'm thankful for Aksel when he screams.

Most of all, I'm thankful for Aksel when he smiles.

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