I’ve shooed my boys outside and I am hearing laughter as they play together which is like salve on my heart. The weather is perfect and I love having my doors open. Over the last few months I’ve seen them really begin to enjoy each other for the first time. It’s spring time and I’m enjoying their blooming relationship more than even the trees and flowers, which is cheesy to say but true. The screaming and fighting still is more typical than not but I think it’s partially more because of their personalities than anything else.
Bear, with his special needs that amplify his personalty to an almost enviable extreme and Bug who is bright and bold. It’s crazy how both of my children are such strong extroverts, loud and friendly where ever we go while Ben and I prefer the shade.
We smile tight lipped and awkward as person after person recognizes Bear while we are out. He is in every way noticed and remembered. … Ben and I are not… We constantly joke about his “fan club”.
When we left the surgical consult yesterday, all the people in the waiting room were waving good by and saying how they would miss his entertainment. Because that is how it is with a child with William’s Syndrome.
We scheduled his third surgery yesterday and my mind is processing it today. It took us by surprise a little bit, we knew he’d need the surgery eventually but the next week part of threw us a bit. and that is ok. My life isn’t normal, but for me it is if that makes sense. My life with Bear is probably going to always include minor (and maybe some major) surgeries and I need to become ok with it.
Don’t get me wrong… I’ll never be ok seeing him wheeled away from me and knowing that despite the minimal risks, there is always a chance he won’t come back alive.
I give him back weekly, daily… and lately, hourly.
Parenthood is a painful business. Your heart is suddenly not your own and the pain of your children is amplified inside of your body like dozens of balls bouncing around. It’s kind of a perfection in brokeness that is beautiful and makes words like “broken in spirit” make sense. I never understood that expression. God says “blessed are the poor in spirit” and I happily embrace it. There is a joy in the chaos and a peace in the storm. That’s all.
