And My Heart Heals a Little More

So I have four kids. Three of them are very typical, all American type kids. They play soccer and basketball, are involved in our church, get good grades, get along with others...just normal, typical kids. I love each of them dearly. They are precious gifts. Then I have my 4th child...she is one of my twins, but she is technically the youngest. She's not so typical, doesn't really do well in school. She is handicapped. She had bacterial meningitis when she was three weeks old and has a severe brain injury. She has many small issues. She's legally blind, profoundly deaf in one ear, she has cerebral palesy, hydrocephalus, in the last year or so she's developed a seizure problem that we thought we were past and, is just generally developmentally delayed. She has some relatively minor behavior issues that can be contributed partially to her seizure medicine that causes personality changes and partially to being babied a bit...just a bit;). I believe she will always live with me, or at least require some degree of care, she'll never drive, she'll likely never marry or have children, she won't go to the prom or to college, she won't have grandchildren or someone to grow old with. Now, on paper, she might seem like quite a large responsibility, and she is. But there's no way you can possibly make an accurate assessment of her on paper. She is so much more than all those issues. She has a good sense of humor, she's funny and sassy. She's incredibly friendly and accepting of anyone who is friendly back. She's so loving, and appreciative of the simplest things. She's very smart in her own way, and works very hard at trying to figure out her school work and the world around her. She enjoys life and rarely seems to realize that she has limitations. She sometimes says things she shouldn't because she doesn't filter very well. These are all things you can't tell by reading about her issues on paper, or seeing her go by in her wheelchair (that she has just for when we are going to out for along time...she can walk). She is ridiculously precious and I treasure her like nothing else. Because she wasn't supposed to survive the meningitis, and when she did they said her brain damage was so bad that she would never be anything more than a vegetable. That's excruciating news, nothing any parent would want or should have to deal with. There were times when I honestly thought I might die from having a broken heart. I definitely felt like I didn't want to live with that broken heart. But here we are, 7 years down the road from those most terrible days. Things are not perfect, she still has many issues and obstacles in her life. But my heart has healed. There are moments it's still broken...for the child I thought I'd have, for the experiences she won't get to have...for what could have been I guess. But we have healed a great deal in 7 years. She brings us so much joy and laughter and happiness, there's no way we couldn't have healed a little. There are moments that hurt our hearts for our precious daughter. Like when we quietly leave her with her grandma while we go do something that is not appropriate for her, or when she wants to do something she is physically unable to do, when we see her twin sister doing things that we can only hope she will do someday in the future. Then there are moments that heal our hearts. Like when she started to smile, started to talk, started to walk at three and a half. This weekend we had a moment that healed our hearts, I'm still on cloud nine over it. There is a soccer league for handicapped kids. When I looked into it before we all agreed that she was too small and fragile. Well, as I was walking out to my sons game this week we ran across the handicapped group. I stopped and talked to the leader just to get some info for next year. Much to my surprise and unbelievable delight they welcomed her to start playing right that instant. They gave her a uniform and off she went. She is so happy. SO HAPPY. She feels like she is just like her brother and sisters now. It's super precious...and my heart heals a little more.

How I Became A Mother

I love being a mother. I love staying home with my children, I love seeing all the funny things they do and say. I do run out of patience....often, but I still wouldn't change it for the world.
Sometimes I start to feel a little bit like I'm not contributing anything to society, like I would like to do more than I am, be important to someone other than the occupants of my house.
I hear so many women talk about their professions, what they do all day, the people they meet; and pathetically think to myself that the only thing I could add to the conversation is how quickly I can change a diaper and how it doesn't even gross me out when snot flies everywhere when my baby sneezes.
It can be quite isolating to have young children...especially when you have a multitude of them. Still, I would never want to miss these years of their lives. There will, hopefully, be so many more years that I can work, but I only have these few fleeting years when I can be home, and have them all to myself and let them have me all to themselves.
For this reason I love being a mother. I never thought that I would be here where I am at this point in my life.
I had my first child as a teenager. I found out I was pregnant a few months after I graduated from high school. It was shocking, I never thought that I would be that girl. I was raised in a very conservative Christian home, I knew better...but I did IT anyway. I was scared, I didn't know what to do. My family was nothing less than completely supportive even though they were disappointed. I went back and forth for months between keeping the baby and adoption. In the end I decided to keep the baby, his father was not supportive of adoption, and neither were my parents.
I had a baby boy. Two months later his father and I decided to get married.
I wasn't the best mother you will ever find. My new hubby and I both worked at night and stayed up late. Therefore, we let him stay up; therefore, we all slept late as well. I didn't feed him well....I propped his bottles up with a teddy bear and have pictures of him sitting in his crib eating french fries when he was less than a year old. He survived...he's actually my healthiest eater now.
I went on to be a baby making machine....or at least I felt that way. I had three more children in the next four year. In the interest of full disclosure, this does include a set of twins.
Eight years later I still am struggling with patience. I'm in my last year of having any children at home full time. My babies will be going to kindergarten, I'll be alone. Alone? I'm not sure I know what that is anymore. How will it feel? What will I do? I'm sure I'll figure it out!
There have been plenty of other challenges along the way....when to make the jump from working mother to stay at home mother, when to give up and buy the minivan, what to do with three daughters separated by only two years.
There have been more serious issues as well....the financial challenges of a growing family and shrinking income, a child's serious illness which turned into my biggest challenge as a motherin the form of a child with special needs.
Motherhood has definitely been a journey, a fun journey, a sleepless journey, a cute journey, a heartbreaking journey. I think I have felt every emotion. I have gone from the painful depths of the near death of one of my babies to the "joys" of taking four kids to Disneyland.
There's lots of challenges. I haven't enjoyed all of them, but I don't regret any of them. HOWEVER, if I am being completely honest, I do cringe to think about what is ahead.