Skip to main content

Six Years New



So our little lion man is not so quite so little anymore! Tomorrow this guy turns six.
Six years!
Like the man himself says frequently: "wowsers."

I find that as time rolls unchangeably on I have less and less words to say about being a special needs parent.
When he was a baby and I was a newbie at all of this, and I thought (or acted like that anyway) that I had somehow gotten a compressed cliff notes chip that downloaded straight into my brain the moment that Leo was born. I literally became a master overnight and an expert professor over the time it took my section scar to heal. I had something to say about all of it! Anything on Hydro, Hydran, epilepsy, medications, surgeries, syndromes, birth defects; I was the go to gal. I even thought I knew all about Autism, vaccinations and even Downs syndrome. What the hell was I thinking?
I don't actually think I was "thinking," I was coping.
My way of dealing with a traumatic situation is apparently to own it all the way. And I mean all the way.
I signed up for every single special needs group online and otherwise.
I trolled thousands of SN message boards.
I stalked medical professionals.
I pretty much considered myself better fit to preform hospital care than the competent staff of over-qualified nurses.
I have even been known to give the doctors lectures on their own specialties!

Although it is indisputable fact that I am an expert on Leo, however, on all other subjects even in the special needs circle, my so called PHD. chip is slowly corroding and fading into well deserved oblivion.
And lately...I find that I have nothing much to say anymore. I feel for new SN parents, and I grieve over senseless tragedies involving children, but I don't drive myself and others nuts with "knowing" all about it.
As life goes on, as my lion grows, as we face new challenges and still deal with unresolved old ones, I have less and less expert opinions. Or at least opinions that won't rest until they are shoved down everybody's throat.
I still battle it out to the death with hospital secretaries who, poor dears, were blessed with a very small IQ indeed, and I still try to lecture and preach on all the different ways of Leo...somethings will probably never change...But I just don't have that know-it-all sense anymore about the whole thing. I don't feel the need to bombard every stranger I meet with Leo's epic birth story, nor do I drone on and on about our challenges and trials.
These days I suppose, I let Leo do the talking for me.


There is probably a purely psychological explanation for all of this; like I've reached some step or other in the grieving process, perhaps even that so coveted step of final acceptance.
If so, that step isn't really what people think it is.
I don't think it really means that the sun finally shines while birds sing and lambs and lions frolic together while you live happily ever after. It's more like the sun shines, and then it rains, perhaps even thunder, and then the sun shines again.
There is range and there is moderation.
I no longer have the almost rabid emotional obsession with Leo's prognosis. I no longer compare and contrast him to others, or if I do in a weak moment, its almost as an after thought and does not have enough power to break my heart or even sting.
Sure if Leo was born normal that turbulent night six years ago, I would be a very different person. But would I be a better person? Who knows? And now, I don't even seem to care.

Here is our lion boy rocking his way into year six. He's got a special thing going on with music this guy.
Happy Birthday to my boy!








Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Lost In Summer

It has been a long time...maybe the longest since I have written to you all last. This blog has meant many different things to me over the past seven years, in fact, it has taken as many different manifestations as its subject matter, Leo the little lion! Not so little anymore, in a couple weeks he will be seven years old.  And so will this blog!  It is amazing to think back to the frightening beginning of it all, and to realize that never in a hundred years could I have pictured myself now, sitting and typing this post at my sunny kitchen table, in my own house, while the early morning sounds trickle in from the open porch door and mingle with the voices of my children in the other room. Not one child, as we all thought seven years ago, but two.  Seven years ago, Leo was not going to live to his first birthday. He was not going to be able to talk sweetly to his big sister, as I hear him doing right now. Though I'm sitting in the other room, I can picture them both clearly; his s…

For The NICU

So you guys know that September is the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) awareness month right?  Yeah, I didn't know either.  Every month there is some disease or disorder that we should worry, promote, and be aware about...so after awhile all that awareness stuff gets tiring... But this is the first time I've heard of an awareness month for a place, rather than a physical condition. What's up with that? How come we need an awareness month for a section of the hospital? We have an awareness month for breast cancer, not the cancer ward itself...so why the NICU? I'm pretty sure there is a preemie dedicated month, and one for every other condition that may have put the infant in the NICU in the first place, so why the preferential treatment? After thinking about it for awhile, the only reason I could come up with for the need of this awareness of a place, is that the place itself has inherent issues that people (especially potential NICU parents) should be aware of. No…