Finn endured his 2 month pediatric check up yesterday. The festivities included three shots in his chubby thighs, one shot of liquid medicine into his mouth and an inspection of every tiny body part. I think of all these, he despised the ear probe most.
He’s a healthy boy, weighing in at 12 lbs, 12 oz (64%), 23 in. in length (50%) and 99% for his head circumference. Yes, we get it. His head is large. More room for all those brain cells, right?
Joey and I have also been a little weepy this week. You know, we really don’t like Spina Bifida. We really wish it had avoided our child. The parenting books we ordered off of Amazon.com came in this week. One in particular is called Children With Spina Bifida, A Parent’s Guide. The other night we read through the chapter entitled, “Working Through Your Grief.” It recounted a story of a family and their daughter with Spina Bifida attending a large family reunion at a local park. As they approached the playground, all the cousins, nieces and nephews were running, playing, jumping, and yelling with excitement. The mom watched as her daughter zoomed in her teal wheelchair toward her cousins, then slowed and turned around, exclaiming, “Mommy, this playground wasn’t built for me.” The mom hid her tears as she looked at the strong legs of the children playing, knowing her daughter would never join in. They instead plopped her down in the nearby sandbox, and of course the other thoughtful parents directed their children over to keep her company. Big wet tears plopped down on our pillows as we read this scenario…one we’ve envisioned already. And one we’re terrified of.
We celebrate with great joy Finn’s successes. God has blessed us with many miracles already. But we still wish things were different. The grief will continue and will come in waves with each new phase of Finn’s life. This week, we all cried.