Tag: hope

eyesight, good grief, loss of parent, mommyhood, self-discovery

Progress

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Full Speed’s eye testing today was phenomenal. It is the best I have ever seen him do. He was rattling off tiny letters like he had been doing it his whole life (which he has not). I finally broke down a little in the exam room. It still hasn’t totally connected in my heart that his vision has improved significantly. I keep waiting for someone to jump out and say that it’s a joke and that he still is considered legally blind.

There are no words. There are no words that a mother can say to properly describe the overwhelming desire for her children to have clear vision. My psyche cannot process that this day of clear sight is finally here. Both my boys are on track for excellent vision. Unbelievable.

Today even T.Puzzle wowed at his regular check-up. We had scheduled it months before Full Speed had his surgery so we piggy-backed Full Speed’s post-op with this  appointment. T.Puzzle was identifying letters like a firecracker. The nurse of course was impressed that a two year old knew his letters so well (thank you pre-school and Sesame Street!) and fawned over him when he said the letter ‘F’ as ‘efp’ (it was pretty adorable).

It felt like I was in another exam room with different children (and thank you to my Mother-in-law who accompanied me and supported us today). This was the first time the eye tests were a breeze for both of them (as we have finally pinpointed T.Puzzle’s prescription and what a long road that was!). I felt like I imagine a majority of the population feels when they take their kids in for check-ups and the doctor has them read the simple eye-chart. I felt like of course they can identify a tiny letter ‘B’ from across the room. That’s just what kids do. And now, it’s what MY kids do. I’m still shaking my head in disbelief.

The progress for my boys is remarkable. I feel like I also made some progress on my own path towards healing. Today I purposefully chose to wear a necklace that my Mom had given me a couple years ago. It is flowery and blue which happen to be two of my favorite artistic components of expression. I did not feel sad as I placed it around my throat and hooked the clasp shut. I felt empowered and loved. She had wanted good vision for my boys as badly as I do. I embraced what I felt to be her presence and I smiled. I am doubly thankful that now my boys will be able to see their Mommy’s smile clearly.

My prayer is one of thanks today. Some tears have fallen, but they have been tears of gratitude and deeply felt love. Whether it was seen, felt or heard, love was all around us.

eyesight, health, mommyhood, parenting, self-discovery

Eye Am Thankful

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So far the result of Full Speed’s surgery has been spectacular. It doesn’t seem real. I am having trouble imagining the possibility of much improved vision.

baby in glasses
Full Speed was first diagnosed with extreme myopia (which means he was off-the-charts nearsighted) when he was 20 months old. The subsequent journey and various doctor’s appointments from geneticists to surgeons has been a test of courage and faith. I have always held out hope in the back of my mind that his vision would be good (excellent even). I have prayed endlessly that he would have 20/20 vision. I have cried and then I have prayed some more. Eventually, I started to take my cues from Full Speed. He began eye-testing with letters when he was two years old. He handled every appointment (well, there were some deep in the heart of the terrible twos that I think I’ve blocked from memory) the best he could. As he matured, he came to respect doctors and followed their directions with ease. He is so comfortable in hospital/doctor office settings now it’s almost like doing anything else we might do during our day.

I also have learned to evaluate Full Speed’s condition based on his functioning. His functioning is awesome. He has mastered all his physical milestones and then some and is right on track intellectually. I began to realize that extreme myopia later diagnosed as ectopia lentis et pupillae with lens subluxation (dislocated lenses) looks pretty amazing if you ask me.

yellow belt kick

I had this strange moment when Full Speed was three years old and he was testing for his first Tae Kwon Do belt. As I sat in the testing room with family and friends I had this sort of out of body experience. I saw clearly for the first time that if all Full Speed was ever allowed was minimal vision, he was going to kick life in the ass and be a huge success. I learned a new prayer that day. The prayer was a thank you for the vision provided to my son for it is exactly what he needs to be who he is. That was the day I started to learn acceptance. I accepted his coke-bottle lenses whole heartedly (I mean come on, they are freakin’ adorable!). I accepted that regular eye check-ups (sometimes done under anesthesia) and doctor’s visits were a part of our lives. I accepted that while some of his eye care may be a challenge (patching his left eye on a daily basis), it’s just what we do.

Flash forward and here we are with another major eye surgery under our belts and on the cusp of much improved vision. I know whatever happens Full Speed will have exactly the amount of vision he needs to be whoever he will be (which is incredible in my slightly biased opinion). I will certainly be thankful if that is anywhere near 20/20 vision.

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health, life in pictures, parenting

The Waiting Game

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Full Speed has been as brave as he possibly can be. The doctor told him that she was going to put music on in the OR so they could dance. He gave her a signature Full Speed smile (he thinks she’s cute).

Mad Dog and I are coping and getting along (sort of!). I held it together beautifully until they took Full Speed back to the OR. I almost completely lost it. I felt weepy, nauseous and just short of a panic attack.

Doing better now. We wait. That’s the only thing left to do.

mommyhood

Choices

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Life is all about choices. We are unable to control our lives; we can only make choices that respond to its challenges. I have been feeling a little fearful lately as the first of Full Speed’s surgeries approaches. Today, I am letting go of the fear and choosing to be excited and hopeful. I look forward to spending so much one on one time with him and being there every step of the way. Having already gone through some medical procedures with him concerning his vision, I have seen up close that he is a tower of strength trapped in a small four year old body. Even though these procedures have been difficult at times, I am always left with a feeling of awe having witnessed his remarkable self-possession and pride at how willingly he complies with the doctors and nurses (maybe I am doing something right). Today I’m choosing hope.

Yesterday, I chose to pick up my nephew, Lil’ Superman, along with Full Speed from school yesterday. As we left the daycare center, the woman behind the front desk commented, “Good luck to you tonight, looks like you may need it.” Granted, I had T.Puzzle, Full Speed and Lil’ Superman (he’s almost three) in tow and they were so excited to spend time together that their decibel level was capable of causing hearing loss. I got that and could see three high-energy boys might be a bit much to handle. I made a different choice. I knew I would have all three for only a couple hours and even if there were going to be smack-downs, time-outs and some tears, they were going to love to play together. To grow up with cousins around is a huge gift. I chose to be excited to share in their enthusiasm of simply being with one another.
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When they were seated (not so quietly) at the kitchen table eating (only sort of) their dinner, T.Puzzle took a turn for the worse. He had improved throughout the day but all of a sudden his temperature spiked; he lost his appetite and became lethargic. I chose not to freak out about it at that moment. I looked at the facts; he had eaten plenty and drank lots of liquids leading up to this point, he was going to be fine (I had no crazy, swine-flu delusions). I gave him some Tylenol, placed him on the couch wrapped in a blanket and began to referee Lil’ Superman and Full Speed.
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It was hectic and loud and there was a whole lot of laughter. Lil’ Superman kept making pretend phone calls on a toy phone with his feet; when I answered the calls, they were stinky of course. This cracked the boys up endlessly. Despite all the fun and merry racket, three young boys can be a little overwhelming. I stand firm in my decision to only have two. And that’s my choice!!

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mommyhood

Writes for all Mommies

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I am writing for all the mommies out there who are feeling a little lost today, okay a lot lost today. I believe raising children is the most important undertaking of our lives. It is also the most underrated, the most exhausting and a huge killer of personal dreams. Let’s not stop the dreaming…

If we can connect to the part of ourselves that is the most vibrant and has the most light to shine, not only will we reap the rewards, our children will catch some of that light and shine on.

Don’t give up who you were before children. Make the most of who you are with children. Find some balance, find some sanity and ask for help.

No one really knows what the hell they are doing. That Mom you saw this morning at school drop off, the one with the perfect, hair/teeth/body? She doesn’t know a damn thing either. Her daughter refused to get out of bed this morning and had to be bribed with M&Ms. I bet at least your kids had cereal for breakfast and those are fortified with loads of vitamins. Keep up the great work!