A Change of Plans

Well, we're still not boring!

H.M. was just diagnosed with cerebral palsy.

Upon hearing the news, I was completely shocked. As the neurologist spoke of leg braces, crutches, wheelchairs, lack of coordination, speech impediments and a lifetime of physical therapy, my hopes and dreams for my son having a normal life slipped away from me. My head was spinning. Later than night, alone in the car with S.G., I completely lost it for the first time since we've had H.M. home. I sobbed as I pictured my friendly, sweet little man offering friendship to peers and being mocked and heartbroken in return, for things completely out of his control.

Then we got pizza and movies and crashed on the floor of our apartment, because what else could we do that night?

The next day I made an appointment to talk with H.M.'s pediatrician about the diagnosis.

The head doctor at the NICU H.M. spent his first few months at was one of it the most amazing people I've ever met. S.G. and I nicknamed him Dumbledore, because whenever things seemed really scary and bad, he would show up and fix everything. He would never lie or sugar coat the facts, but, somehow after talking with Dumbledore, the world seemed a lot less frightening.

Happy Monkey's pediatrician is like that as well.

My awesome mother in law brought up a story she read awhile back about a mother of a special needs child describing the moment she found out her child wasn't going to be "normal". She described it as planning a trip to Paris. You pack with France in mind. You're excited to see the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre. You get on the plane and watch the ocean pass underneath you, daydreaming about eating fancy French pastries in a small cafe. Then the plane lands and you are shocked to discover that you are not in Paris, or even France.

You have arrived in Holland. At first you feel upset. You won't get to eat crêpes. You won't be perusing the latest French fashion. The phrases you carefully learned for conversing with the natives are not likely to be very useful.

Discovering that there is no way for you to get to Paris, you leave the airport, head hanging low. You wander around for a bit, trying to come to terms with your situation. Then you look up and you see this:

You are startled by how wonderful it is. You begin to keep your head up as you continue to walk. Soon you come to this scene:

You are amazed by your surroundings. You have never seen anything so beautiful before! Smiling now, you continue on, only to encounter this:

You laugh from the surprise of this discovery. A castle? In Holland? You had no idea!

You decide that you like it here in Holland. It is different from France, but you never regret ending up in Holland. 

Now, I just have to realign my expectations, and enjoy the view from where Heavenly Father has placed me. 

"Normal"

I always wanted to be special.

I wanted to stand out as someone who lead a life that was considered unique or different.

In short, I was an idiot.

Knowing how to put a feeding tube into your infant is a pretty unique skill.

I think administering five different medications to a wiggly baby on a daily basis qualifies as a different lifestyle.

I used to get high off the feeling of standing out.

Now you'll find my most contented smile when something absolutely normal is happening, such as when I can bring my baby shopping with me.

When I walk down the stairs in our home carrying just a 17 lb baby, without an oxygen tank, a breathing monitor and the mars rover strapped on me, I can't help but grin and think, "This is the life."

So, here's a toast to normal! I raise my glass to mediocre, average and downright boring people everywhere! The closer I get to joining you, the more comfortable I feel.

I now strive for a medium sized house in the suburbs, a minivan, a dog, 2.5 children, and a rocking chair, where I can attempt to learn knitting for exactly 12 minutes, before deciding that small motor skills are over rated and I like reading better anyway.

Someday.

Until then, I've got to go thicken up some milk for my baby.

Love,
M.C.

The Choice

Hello and welcome to my shiny new blog! 

I am Mama Crazy, but you may call me M.C. I am married to an incredible man named Señor Guapo, or S.G.

Together we have a little man we call Happy Monkey, or H.M.

He wasn't always so happy and healthy, though. He was born almost 4 months early at only 1 lb 15 oz. He spent the first 105 days of his life in a neonatal intensive care, before we were able to bring him home. 

That experience dramatically changed my life. 

It was an incredibly difficult thing to go through. Thanks to my steadfast husband, a solid support system of family, and, above all else, a kind and loving Heavenly Father, I made it.

But, there was a very dark point where were not at all certain that we would be able to take H.M. home with us in this life. In that moment, I had a choice. I could choose unflinching faith and optimism, or I could choose to just stop living. It was a harder choice than it should have been.

That's where the title of this blog comes in. 

I chose joy.

I chose peace.

I chose hope.

I chose faith.

I chose laughter.

These are things I get to choose again daily,as we adjust to this new "normal". 

You have the same choice to make for yourself. 

I invite you to walk this road with me.

Love,
M.C.