Happy Saturday and welcome to what will be my usual posting day 🙂 I would like to quickly say it was great to hear from everyone that e-mailed and texted me after my launch this past Monday. And thank you for making time once again in your busy worlds to read my words! This week, we’re going to be taking a bit of a stroll into a memory from over 5 years ago…

I had walked out my front door because I just needed the fresh air. I know based on the time of year the heat had to have been at it’s Wicked Witch of the West flaming down the barn worst, but my mind wasn’t exactly focused on the sensation of the heat. I hate the heat, like really, really hate it, and normally I don’t want to be out there when it’s intense, but being outside has always comforted me, and I needed that.

Our little man had just come home from a two day stay in the hospital-me by his side for every second of it- and he was only 2 months old. At this point, as some of you may recall, we weren’t even officially named the adoptive placement yet, though he had been in our home since the day after he was born. It would be another 7 months before he was officially named our son.

I was just a short distance off our steps when I ran into a neighbor from a few houses down. Yah, I actually used to have time to talk to my neighbors. Anyways, she asked how he was doing and what was going on with him. I explained to her that he was in the hospital because he developed an infection and that fluid was on his kidneys which was being caused by an abnormality in his urethra, which was pushing some urine back into them. This is something that can occur with kiddos who have Sotos Syndrome. As was the jaundice he experienced as a newborn. But I didn’t get that bit of hindsight perspective on these things until he was being diagnosed with Sotos over 3 years later.

At this point, the only thing we knew about was his birth mom’s drinking, and while that was not information we were sharing with people at that time, it was often assumed by others that something of that sort had happened because of how he came to us. And our neighbor was certainly one of those people. After I finished explaining what he was hospitalized for, she made some offhand comments filled with some of her theories, and then she asked me, “Are you still willing to adopt him?”

My heart has never been able to give any other answer then the one it gave the first day he was placed in my arms as a tiny baby. Absolutely. But then, she turned to me with this shocked look on her face, and said something I’ve heard repeated frequently in one theme or another over the past 5 years or so. “Wow, you are such a saint. I mean, really, I mean it. I could never do what you are doing.” And from where I stand now more then 5 years later, what he and our family had been experiencing up to that point was absolutely nothing compared to what was to come.

I want you to know that I definitely understand that people undoubtedly mean to be kind when they say things like that, and my honey always tells me it’s their way of complimenting me and in my mind I know that. And yet, I can’t even begin to give voice to how uncomfortable statements like that one make me feel. So this is what I told her:

“I’m not a Saint. I’m a mom.”

From day one, I have been doing what I believe a mom should do. I have loved my child. I have cared for my child. I have fought for my child. Both of my children, actually. Everybody likes to think when they become a parent that their child will be perfectly healthy, it’s the myth we all tell ourselves. But sometimes children are born with amazing challenges, and this is what a parent does. They step up to the plate and take a swing at every challenge they can. As long as it is needed. And sometimes, that means for a lifetime.

I love what Jocko Willink has to say on the topic of elevating people in his recent book “Discipline Equals Freedom”:

“People are not who you want them to be. Kill your idols. Sure there are things we can learn from people-but people aren’t going to be what you think they are-what they should be. People, even those people you have put up on a pedestal, are going to be faulted, weak…That’s fine. Learn from their weaknesses.”

And when you see mine, as I’m sure you will or have already at some point, I invite you to do exactly that. I am my own person, and while I’m doing the best I can, sometimes I disappoint people…possibly even you at some point. I see all of me, the good and the bad, so I struggle when someone wants to put me up on a pedestal for what I do right with our son. Especially since some days, I’m totally just winging it because it’s not like there’s this vast body of literature for how to support a child with his combination of diagnoses. I’m just like any other mom. I’m trying to be the best I can be- I’m trying to be enough.

But sometimes people say things that make me feel like they’ve hoisted me up somewhere I don’t need or want to be, and that I’m staring at the ground some distance away. I know it’s an effort to show support, I promise you I do, but there’s only one place to go from that kind of height, and that’s crashing down.

So, why am I telling you this story? Chances are, if you’re saying this to a parent of a child with special needs, depending on their personality, it may be making them uncomfortable. An even more supportive choice could be to say to them, “that must be hard,” give them a hug, and tell them that you can see how much they love their child. Because no matter what… they do.

A note on the Picture:

“…prenatal alcohol exposure is the leading preventable cause of birth defects, developmental disabilities, and mental retardation in the USA.” This is quoted from a study by Giliberti, Mohan, Brown, and Gauthier titled “Perinatal exposure to alcohol: implications for lung development and disease.” This study discusses the detrimental effects of alcohol in pregnancy on lung development and called for additional studies to improve detection methods for alcohol exposed newborns, many of whom are not correctly identified at birth.

In our son’s early days his cry was weak and his breathing was more irregular then one would expect for a newborn. He also had frequent respiratory infections and bronchitis in his first few years, as well as reacting intensely (and might I add negatively) to strong odors. It can not be definitively proven that alcohol exposure in the womb caused all of this for him, but there is a strong likelihood it contributed.

As someone who supports attachment parenting, and who has seen recommendations from studies on skin to skin contact for regulating breathing in newborns, I kept our little man frequently cuddled on my chest, and it did indeed help him have more even breathing. I would place his hands and cheeks on the upper part of my chest that wasn’t covered by my shirt, and that is what is shown in this selfie from that period.