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

Popular posts from this blog

Hate the struggles, don't hate Autism.

Its 7 pm. Your child is yelling his head off because he does not want to hop in his bath. Tears are running down his face leaving clear trails in all the grime. Bribes have been offered. Voices raised in despair.  Visual schedules and timers have failed to move him. He does not want to have a bath and that is it. You're exhausted and stunned by the intensity of his tantrum. Unfortunately you cannot budge and you cannot give in because you're scared that it will set a precedent : Mom's a pushover.  But you also know that this tired little boy is soon approaching meltdown junction, where all bets are off and nobody wins. You take deep breaths and tell yourself its not about you right now! How do you help him navigate this ? He loves bath time. He loves water. He'd practically stay at the pool if you'd let him. So why is it suddenly so hard for him?  Why does this bright boy who can do math in his head and talk at length about how to build an airplane st...

20 perfect kernels of popcorn.

Button has always been a picky eater. No.... scratch that. How about super-sensitive-and-guaranteed-to-refuse-any-new-foods. That's a much better description. It's not just an autism thing. Part of it is probably the sensory defensiveness that comes under the autism umbrella and part of is it anxiety about new tastes and textures. I mean - this kid hasn't eaten candy in his entire life!! Could care less about ice cream or pizza! I know, I know - he sounds like an ideal 6 year old who only eats healthy stuff, but man, this is way worse than that. He accepts 6 foods and that's the 6 food choices he's been sticking to for the past 4 years. Its a constant cycle of dosa-pasta-rice-pretzels-chips-fries. So no....not healthy by any means. And his dislike of non preferred foods is so strong, that he will actually gag at us eating a meal. Its that bad! Eating at restaurants means taking his meal along with us and he's that one kid at the party that's eating his ...

Groucho Marx

Today I'm feeling like lists, so here goes. Things that really annoy me : People who brag about how little sleep they got - we get it! Coworkers, cashiers, random people you run into. Somehow this is meant to convey a sense of superpower : "I slept for just 2 hours and look how functional I am". Well, I got news for you! I see all the surreptitious yawns you think you're hiding and I've seen corpses look fresher, so here's your damn medal. Now shut up about sleep! Not-so-obvious racists : See these jerks are worse than overt racists because you can never spot them coming. You're standing in line at the grocery checkout, and you get this weird vibe coming off Cashier Susan who's quick to smile and greet every white customer. But when it's my turn, Cashier Susan will grunt a non committal sound, lose the chirpy eye contact and rush through the process, before smiling widely at the blonde lady next in line. I've seen Cashier Susan fo...