My life in one way or another has revolved around children, for about as long as I remember. I have served as a full time volunteer in an elementary school, I have spent several years being a full time nanny to three young girls, and I was the go -to babysitter and youth group leader of my small church community. Kids were my thing, they just weren’t my kids.
I was never against having kids, but I also didn’t have an obvious desire to have them. I didn’t need them to feel complete. I didn’t envision myself as a biological mother. I always figured I would play an important role in the lives of other peoples’ children, and that was fine by me.
So…
When I found out I was pregnant with my first son, at thirty-three years old, in 2015, I’ll be honest, it was quite a surprise. ( And yes, I know how babies are made,) but I had never known if I would be able to conceive, due to my CP. Well, I knew after that!
Navigating Pregnancy and Cerebral Palsy
I vividly remember the night I took the test and it came back positive. There were only two things I knew for certain. One, I was having a little boy, (mama intuition,) and two, I was going to do everything I had to to make sure my baby and I would be as healthy as possible for as long as possible. I honestly had no idea about anything else.
And…
My pregnancy was nothing short of brutal. I had so many issues. Fortunately they were issues with my body and health but had very little to do with my baby. He was perfect. I on the other hand, had Polyhydramnios, otherwise known as extra amniotic fluid, hyperemesis gravidarum (HG), or extreme morning sickness for nearly all forty weeks, infections, an ambilocal hernia that ultimately led to me needing surgery at six months along, and a laundry list of other complications.
Given the circumstances, although I was beyond ready to be done with the pregnancy at thirty-nine weeks, it was truly a miracle that my body was able to create a life, maintain that life and give me the gift of a perfectly healthy, beautiful baby boy.
From Pregnant to Parent
Baby boy was here. My body was under less direct stress and began to heal. Also, my body was introduced to a whole new kind of stress and it was, here we go again. I had all the normal hurdles of taking care of a newborn: feedings, diaper changes, endless laundry, learning his cries, sleepless everything, you get the idea… I also had challenges I had never given much thought to. For despite all the time I had spent with children of varying ages, I had never had absolute responsibility. I had always had the choice to decline activities that were too challenging or outside of my physical comfort zone.
To be clear, I am not referring to things such as rock climbing or football practice, but things like carrying a tiny bundle of baby up and down stairs, or balancing a fussy little wobbly headed guy on my own wobbly hip while trying to make a bottle or grab a snack from the fridge.
He was mine, and while I wasn’t alone in taking parenting responsibility in the sense of being a single parent, I was alone much of the day and absolutely had to figure out how to make it work, safely and successfully.
And guess what? I did. We did. He and I. My son learned from a very young age, like infancy age, that we were a team. He learned how to do things like lean into my body as I moved. He learned that mommy had to grip him a little tighter than he preferred when moving from a seated to a standing position, or when carrying him up and down the stairs.
It’s been nearly 8 years since, the day the nurse first laid him on my chest. Eight years since I sat on my hospital bed realizing that I was about to take my baby home and struggle with so many actions that everyone, including myself at times, takes for granted.
But you know what? It has also taken nearly all of those 8 years for my son to even notice, or at least begin to verbalize that he notices that his mommy is different in any way. Only recently he has mentioned that he notices how I walk different. or how I don’t have the same balance he does.
Physically Impossible Perfection
And while I don’t know exactly how it makes him feel, and he probably doesn’t know yet either, I do know that he knows without a doubt that as his mommy I will always do my best to be the mommy he needs.
