That’s what Mulder2 has been officially dubbed: SuperKid. This kid is crazy… constantly flipping, jumping, kicking, punching, rolling, and peeking out my belly button. It’s a circus in there.
Girl or boy, we have our hands full.
We had an ultrasound at 21-weeks on Monday, and everything inside is working. The heart and kidneys and spine and face are all the right size and functioning, and very cute. Very cute. Now, there was an abnormal finding… the right foot is twisted. It’s a club foot, possibly. It could be a big deal; it could be nothing. We won’t know the severity until delivery and there’s nothing we can do until then.
I know it’s not my fault. I know it’s common. I know it can go away on its own. I know bracing and surgery work wonders. I know it will make his or her Olympic Moment story that much more fantastic. I even know that your hair dresser’s cousin was born with one and is now a track star at UC Berkley. I knoooooooooooow. But it’s tough news for this mamma to take. It’s tough to know your kiddo is starting out with difficulties.
It’s tough to be pregnant with a child who gives you a thumb’s up in the womb, yet not really know what to expect when he or she comes out. That I am apparently strong enough to handle this (with Divine help and Chinese food) but must figure out my own way. That there is nothing I can do to stop this.
It has been a difficult week on the farm.
Thank goodness for the sunshine.
It’s tough to look at Rylie and see perfection, yet know that she is physically unable to talk. That something, for no medical reason, is stopping her words. That she hit her eye on the kitchen island yesterday and cried for an hour. That she will have her heart broken by some dumb boy in high school and I will have to kill him. That there is nothing I can do to stop this.
If I had known about either of these problems before conception, would I have chosen to avoid pregnancy? If I knew, beforehand, that my children would have specific special needs, would I have said no? If I knew my child would grow up to face friends that would hurt them, or that they would choose to fight in a war and not come home, or that they would leave someday and start their own family, would I say no? If I knew… would I have changed anything?
No. The answer, truly, is no. But it’s hard news. It’s hard to realize how helpless you truly are. How you can pray and have health insurance and a good marriage and not smoke and yet, still, your child will fall off that bike and have gravel in her knee for life. None of us want our children to hurt, to fall behind. But we cannot hold on so tightly that we stop them from growing.
What’s hilarious (?) is that I’d bet a million dollars my kids couldn’t care less about their ‘situation.’ It’s really a lesson in faith for the parents… for me. It’s another chance for God to make me stronger than I thought possible. While I do question His Almighty judgement, I do not refuse it. He is not safe, but He is good (as Mr. Beaver said). I have requested a Life Outline for each child from the Man Above but have been gently refused… so I am back to the basics of providing Love, Food, Shelter, and Safety. And, Fun. I am in charge of Fun.
I demand a donkey this Spring.
I am fully prepared to be, once again, amazed.
SuperKid, we are waiting for you.
[The comments have been turned off on this post intentionally. Of course, you are welcome to email/facebook me! I just, well, I just need THIS space to be quiet.]