That precious little baby face belongs to my son. He was turning 1 year old the day that picture was taken. I don’t think we had yet had his well-baby visit that would turn our lives upside down. I think we were enjoying all the cute baby things he did, all the smiles and giggles. That appointment would start a whirlwind of more appointments, of evaluations, of testing, of therapies.
If I could turn back time…
I would have known the signs earlier. I would have paid more attention to developmental milestones. I know hindsight is 20/20, but why didn’t I notice anything sooner? I hated answering the doctor’s questions with constant “No”‘s. I hated knowing that with each answer, something was wrong. Something would need fixed.
If I could turn back time…
I wouldn’t have told anyone. I know that sounds strange, but almost 5 years later, I’m just tired of the questions, of the unsolicited ‘advice’ of others I barely know. I know that having a support system is key to success, but I would much rather have kept all of the appointments to ourselves. If something serious had come up, something with an actual NAME other then “global development delays” with no known cause, then I would have filled family in. It’s hard to deal with the multiple blood tests, let alone deal with the “Any results yet?” questions. I hate having people know when an appointment or evaluation is scheduled for because I’m tired of the questions. I can anticipate a phone call that day asking what happened, and it’s just annoying. If there’s something worth sharing, I will share it. If it’s an evaluation for therapy services, I’m not even going to learn anything about where he developmentally stands until I receive the report days later! The therapist doesn’t have time to draft a report right in front of me, and I don’t expect them to!
If I could turn back time…
I would have been more strict with our schedule for therapy and activities. I would have made damn sure we’d be at every single appointment, on time and ready to go. There’s no point in staying home over a slight cold when other parents let their child cough up a lung in the waiting room. I would have done more at home, scheduled activities and outings that were age and developmentally appropriate. I would have been a more hands-on mom.
If I could turn back time…
I would go back to the delivery room, and said no to the epidural. Perhaps suffering through some physical pain would have “solved” all of these delays and they wouldn’t even exist today. Without the epidural, maybe I would have been able to push and delivery him vaginally. Maybe his heart rate wouldn’t have dropped during those pushes because they weren’t strong enough, and we wouldn’t have been rushed to the operating room for an emergency c-section. Just maybe…
Hindsight is 20/20, that’s for sure. There are a million things I would change about the way we handled the news, about the way we dealt with the therapists and appointments. There are a million things I would change about what I did at home and what things I did on my own time to help him along.
There are a million things I would change…
But I wouldn’t change him. Yes, getting pregnant at 17 was rough. Yes, having my mom pass away from cancer two weeks after I told her I was pregnant at 17 was even worse. But I wouldn’t change my little boy.
I wouldn’t change the way he colors outside the lines.
I wouldn’t change the way he pretends to be “a CSI guy”.
I wouldn’t change the way he takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes.
I wouldn’t change the way that he talks. You might not understand him, but I do.
I wouldn’t change the way the he thinks “happy hour” means a bowl of cheese ball puffs.
I could never ask for a different laugh, or a different smile.
I could never ask for a little boy who puts his pants on backward.
I could never ask for a more polite young man.
I wouldn’t change a thing about my almost 6 year old little man, who everyday lifts me up and brings tears to my eyes even when the whole world is out to get me.
If I could turn back time…