Skip to main content

Baby steps

Button walked when he was 14 months old. He was this chunky baby, just oozing chub and so we weren't worried when he didn't meet some of his gross motor milestones. He'll walk when he's ready we told ourselves and continued kissing those fat toes.
Well, he needed help to learn to crawl and walk. Physical Therapy was a Godsend and soon he was pulling himself up and cruisin' like a pro. He took his first steps a few days shy of his 15th month, his mouth half open with concentration and trepidation. One, two steps...  little legs pumping up and down until he did that small wobbly almost-run and reached my outstretched arms. We hugged him and cheered, proud faces and relieved glances. 

I remembered every mental inch of that memory this past week when we were encouraging Button to try to walk again. His surgery went well, he came home the same day and basically chilled hard, alternating between couch and bed. We gave him his pain meds, lots of fluids and even more love. When  he looked ready to bear weight, we both held him by each arm, encouraging, goading him to take that first step. He was scared, tired and possibly filled with that undercurrent of masked pain. Walking was the last thing on his mind. His usual rewards didn't interest him and the meds made him all dull and dopey.  As is my wont, I stressed hard about when he would want to walk again. Because he has a high pain tolerance, when he did experience pain, it was downright scary for him. I wanted his first time walking to be relatively plain sailing. But I couldn't figure out how to make that happen - that fine line between keeping him pain free and having him in a semi zombie, unmotivated state. 

Two days post procedure, he woke up looking like himself. Eyes bright and smiley and finally out of that surgery fuzz. Please walk today, I breathed silently. 

And that's what he did. One step, two steps. Mouth half open with exertion - a small grimace of pain not stopping him. Face leaner, legs longer. Unsure of his balance, but certain of his ability he walked towards us.  The same half stumble before he reached my arms. We cried and cheered for him. Prouder than ever before. 

And this is just the beginning.Beautiful, imperfect, gawky steps. Baby steps.



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pocket of happiness.

This past week, our house underwent some fumigation and so we spent 8ish days at our in-laws’  cottage in Monterey, California. For those unfamiliar with that part of the world, Monterey and its surrounding towns are right next to the Pacific Ocean. Miles of beautiful, unspoiled beaches, not too touristy and of course the world-famous Monterey Bay Aquarium. The weather is never too hot; the beaches are set against a backdrop of lush hills and the sand is always perfect. My idea of heaven on earth. The kids had lots of fun, but because of a sudden increase in downtime (no school) they started having bouts of “I’m so bored/I love the Ocean/I hate the Ocean/I’m angry for no reason”. Typical younger child behavior and something I’d expected would happen. They both thrive on structure, so we tried to keep things as streamlined and predictable as possible.   Of course, my Zen, earth-mother mood didn’t last too long. Between the cooking and cleaning...
Post a Comment
Read more

Soul sister.

It’s past midnight. You’re in bed with your thoughts.   Limbs achy and heart heavy with worries.   Of course, you feel that way, you’re a mother.   You wish you had someone to talk to. Someone to breathe in sync with. Someone who’ll nod at the right places and tell you, you’re doing your best. Your husband is snoring away, the kids are sleeping and no one awake for miles around. You contemplate calling your mother/sister/bestie. But you don’t. You just lie there in bed, feeling small and lonely and not sure why everything hurts so damn much. But you’re actually forgetting someone who has been there all along. She’s watching, listening, making sure you’re still breathing. She loves you more than anyone else, even though she never tells you that. She’s your staunchest ally but can also feel like your worst enemy.   Talk to her. Tell her you’re scared. Show her you’re hurt. She’ll hug you. Maybe yell at you a bit. Even completely distract you and talk about Ra...
Post a Comment
Read more

Valentine's day

We've been married almost 13 years. We're not the limber, young newlyweds - ready to drop everything to run away on a weekend together. We've aged, we've changed and we've learned so much about ourselves and each other. We've had 2 kids together, changed endless diapers, laughed together at baby toes and toots, bought a house, gotten our siblings successfully married (to each other!) and held down good jobs. We've seen euphoric highs, and we've shared some crushing lows which only made us grow more fiercely protective of each other.  I used to be impulsive, willful and headstrong. Thought I knew better. Thought I was this larger than life person with intense emotions and eyes full of stars. You know what my husband changed about that? Nothing! He still believes all those wonderful things about me and still looks at me like I'm the most exquisite woman he's ever laid eyes on. He celebrates my passions and holds me safe when life deals me a few b...
3 comments
Read more