I feel like I’m finally coming out of a daze.
Since December 3, when we found out about Calvin’s diagnosis, everything has kind of been a blur for me.
Calvin does this thing where he will put his hand right in front of his face and then look at it with total shock, like,
“HOW DID THIS GET HERE!?”
“HOW DID THIS GET HERE!?”
That’s kind of how I was for almost 4 months.
I would look around me and think,
“what the heck IS this, what am I doing here, HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!?”
It didn’t seem real.
It still doesn’t.
I know I was there…there is photo evidence.
And I have a really cute scar and no feeling between my belly button and my hips.
But besides that, it seems like the last 4 months didn’t happen.
Oh, besides now I have a baby and all.
We came home last week to our Christmas decorations – the ones we put up right before we had our ultrasound.
The ice cream we bought right before leaving was still in our freezer.
(sadly, it was no longer edible.)
My shampoo was in my shower, and my bed was made.
It was almost as if nothing had ever happened.
It was almost as if we had just stayed pregnant until Calvin came, then we brought home a perfect little boy.
Because that’s what he is – a perfect, sweet, awesome, adorable little boy.
I often look at him in awe, and I have to remind myself of his surgery, and diagnosis.
I check his scar, because it doesn’t seem real – he is too perfect.
His scar is the only evidence that anything was ever not perfect.
He does everything all the other babies do.
He eats until he passes out…
He is weirded out by his sling…
He wears us out…
He loves bath time…
Sometimes he’s perfectly content…
And seconds later he’s soooo hungry he could eat his own hand!…
He likes going for car rides and walks…
…and riding on a fake kangaroo in his real Mama Roo….
He looks adorable in all his baby clothes…
(and he’s ALMOST graduated out of preemie clothes and into newborn clothes!)
…just like all the other babies.
So I was pretty surprised when a woman I know congratulated me on our new bundle of joy, and then asked me,
“so did he come out normal?”
I know she meant well.
I know we have asked for and been the recipients of many prayers for Calvin.
I know it shouldn’t have hurt.
But it did.
I was so surprised, stung, and taken aback, and I didn’t know what to say.
I mumbled something like,
“well, we won’t know the extent of his motor function until he’s older,”
or something like that.
Because to me, our baby is the most wonderful human being ever.
He’s not normal – he’s very, very special – he’s been through a LOT, and he’s AMAZING.
But that wasn’t what she meant.
I guess we do some things that aren’t completely “normal” to other people.
We take him to more Dr.s appointments than some babies.
We rejoice when he kicks his little legs, and wiggles his little toes.
We straight cath him every 8 hours, as a precaution until he gets his kidney and bladder tests.
And we are so happy when he pees on his own, even if it’s all over himself or us.
We do physical therapy on his foot and hips, and hope he doesn’t mind too much.
We measure his head every night, and memorize every detail about him so we will know if anything ever changes.
We stare at him for hours, amazed and sad that 80% of the babies with his same diagnosis are never born.
We care for his scar, and show it off to all who are curious, proud of all our little man has accomplished so far in his life (and his pre-life).
We don’t know anything else.
And neither does Calvin.
So it’s normal for us.
We love our new life together.