A New Year, A New Version of Me

A lot can change in a year.

In 2010…

I endured 30+ hours of labor and a hemorrhage post-partum, confirming my long-held fears of childbirth…

I became a mother to a sweet, happy little boy and finally understood what it meant to be truly, viscerally connected to another human being…

I became a neurotic worry-wart, due to my son’s unique medical challenges…

I became consumed with fear, worry and anger because of said medical challenges and the possible implications for his future…

I mourned the idea of a perfect family – mom, dad, two and half kids, dog and picket white fences …

I questioned the motives of God and the universe, pondering what I did to make my son deserve to be born with such challenges…

I blamed myself for doing some unknown thing to cause Spencer’s birth defects, then tried to find other sources that I could blame, but came up with no concrete answers…

I stopped letting myself feel joy, instead dwelling on the negative and sometimes unintentionally hurting the people who were showing me the most love and support…

I watched friends struggle with fertility, while incompetent parents seemed to pop up at every corner…

I was jealous of friends and strangers living their seemingly perfect, happy lives with their kids or embracing pregnancy with the hope and joy I felt robbed of…

The list goes on.

But, I also was humbled in so many ways. And for that, I am grateful. I am a new me. I am hardened and softened at the same time.

Spencer spent the first 19 days of his life in the care of an amazing team of nurses, physician assistants, surgeons and specialists at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital Medical Center. From day one, he defied the odds.

Doctors: “Expect him to be in the hospital for up to four months recovering.”

Reality: 19 days, we had him home – no feeding tube, no catheters and thriving. And this was after two major surgeries. Amazing.

Doctors: “Kids with this problem typically have growth problems.”

Reality: He’s climbing the growth charts and knocking everyone’s socks off developmentally.

We were lifted up by an extended network of family, friends and perfect strangers during the toughest times as we adjusted to our new “normal” and life as both new parents and parents to a child with significant medial hurdles to overcome.

We were blessed with the Cadillac of health insurance plans through my work. To date, we’ve racked up close to $400,000 in medical bills and paid a few hundred out of pocket. I don’t want to even imagine where would be financially without that coverage.

I’ll spare you the long, tedious details because if you read my blog, you are more than likely one of those close friends or a family member. But the road was long, filled with hills and mountains of emotion and stress to climb but also joy and laughter as we watched our tiny little boy, who seemed so fragile at birth, become the amazing little man he is today at just under 11 months old.

We still have challenges ahead, but if Brandon and I can be as strong as our son, I think we’ll tackle the mountain just fine. I admit: I have to remind myself of this at least daily…sometimes hourly, other times just here and there.

I can’t flip a switch and accept the situation overnight. Hell, it might take years. But 2011 is going to be a better year, and I’m committed to trying to live in the moment as much as possible. I’m going to enjoy my son and husband and the life we have as a family. The future is the future. Why dwell on it? It will come when it comes. Life is short. Why not be happy? These are my new mantras.

I read this great story today, by Paul Daugherty – a local writer in Cincinnati—talking about his daughter, who has down’ syndrome. Predictably, it made me cry…mostly because he so unconditionally loves his daughter and is fiercely proud of her, despite other people trying to define her by her seeming limitations. I am ashamed of myself sometimes because – in worrying about the “what ifs” of the future, I know I am trying to limit Spencer. That is such a disservice to him. He has never failed to amaze me. I’m sure the same will be true as my baby grows into a man.

Here’s a link to Daugherty’s story: http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2010/writers/paul_daugherty/12/22/jillian/index.html?eref=sihp

So, I’m going to re-enter the blogging world…maybe not as often as in the past…but I’m going to celebrate the joy of Spencer here. It is so infectious; I want to share the joy he brings to my life with my friends. By sharing, I am also giving myself a little self-therapy, which is a big part of my personal path to healing.

Spencer teaches me new things everyday…about love, joy, myself, the world and other people, and what truly matters in life. It is enlightening and completely frightening all at the same time.

Here’s to a happy and healthy 2011!