Five years ago, with only a few hours of labor, my son came into this world. He was bigger than his sister, quieter than his sister, and in that brief perfect moment that he entered this world, our family was complete. On his first birthday, we had a big party, just like we had done for his sister. I jokingly would say it was to celebrate us as parents making it a year because, after all, “these kids will never
Community Submission by: Ameera Rey One minute you are laying in bed. Eyes closed. Trying to go to sleep. Then you have an out-of-body experience. You are in the hospital. A doctor has just walked in and told you the person you love so much is dead. You are sobbing. So extremely angry. Angry you couldn’t save him. Angry you couldn’t protect him. Angry his body was riddled with a disease that stole his life. You’re so angry that you
I used to think that when people had children with severe disabilities, it would be something detected in the womb, or shortly after birth—that it would be obvious that something was wrong. But this was not at all the case with our son, Asa. Asa is the third of three boys. He was born after a mere two hours of labor, a big healthy baby weighing 10lbs exactly. I remember a hospital staff member saying, “Congratulations—you have a toddler!” For
Typical, adjective, having the distinctive qualities of a particular type of person or thing. Oxford Dictionary I use this term a lot, as many other people do when referring to the general public. I probably use it too much when I think about “if only.” I know some people do not like this term, and I don’t blame them, I don’t either. I still daydream about “if only” Some days it’s just as simple as looking at my son. His
My daughter is watching me parent a special needs child, even when I don’t think she is. She sees me with her brother. She sees me cooking and cleaning. She sees me all the times I say I can’t play right now. But mostly, she sees my disappointments even when I think I’m doing my best to hide them. The other morning was one of those moments. First, I got the call canceling the appointment for my son that I
Implications on Me As it was nearing my son’s first birthday, his teacher and trusted caregiver at his day school handed us the first of many to come, “Ages and Stages,” a form with questions about at what level the child is performing specific tasks. I had never seen this with my typical daughter. She kindly suggested I fill it out and take it with me to my son’s 1-year checkup that would be the next week. A few weeks
I made it ten years as a mother before I had to clean poop off of a wall. This isn’t a bad record considering we’ve had no break from changing diapers for the past decade. After all, many children go through a poop-smearing baby/toddler phase, and this is one gross habit my kids never got into—though there are plenty of others! A single, isolated poop-cleaning episode during year eleven of my marriage would not in itself be a noteworthy event—especially
My son has a rare genetic disorder called Phelan-McDermid Syndrome and he doesn’t even know it. He is as happy as … well, honestly, he is the happiest kid I know. He falls at least 30 times a day, and he just picks himself back up none the wiser. He is 4 years old and can’t use words. He LOVES food, and he can’t chew, at least not well. This is not typical. My son will never grow to be
Our son, Asa, turned five this week. The best picture I could manage of him (and his Covid hair) with his cake is this one. Here is what is going on in this picture: Asa does not know he is turning five. He does not know what a birthday is. He does not know what “five” is. He does not know what a number is. Asa has no idea the object on the table is a cake. However, like every
