Your cart is currently empty!
The Charm of Flaws
Menu
The Charm of Flaws
“You think you’re stressed now? Just wait until the baby arrives! That’s when the real worries begin!” My sister-in-law, Sarah, and I were having a conversation on a cold winter evening. At that point, I was six months pregnant with our first child, Mia. My husband, Alex, and I had just returned from a final child-free getaway in the mountains of Vermont before Mia’s arrival. I shared all the highlights of our trip with Sarah but also admitted that if I hadn’t felt her kicking for a while, I’d drink orange juice to encourage some movement.
Feeling anxious during pregnancy is something many expectant parents experience. The anticipation and hope for a healthy baby during those nine months can be overwhelming for anyone. My situation, however, was more complex. I was the first in my family to be born with a condition known as “syndactyly,” which left me with one finger on each hand, shortened forearms, and one toe on each foot. Although the term sounds complex, it simply means “missing digits.” I assumed, perhaps naively, that my condition would not affect my children.
At our 20-week ultrasound appointment, most parents are eager to find out the baby’s gender. My focus, however, was solely on the fingers. As the technician moved the ultrasound wand over my belly, it was impossible to miss the tiny finger almost waving at us. We were aware of the potential risks due to my condition, but the news still came as a shock. Two and a half years later, our second child, Leo, was born with the same condition but with two fingers on each hand and, like Mia, two toes on one foot.
People often say our boys are fortunate to have me as a role model, but I believe I was equally lucky to have my parents as mine. When I was born, my parents had no idea about my physical differences until I arrived. One moment my mom was in labor, and the next, a doctor was notifying them, “There seems to be an abnormality…” Despite their shock and inexperience, my parents instinctively knew how to raise me. Sure, they tried various methods that didn’t always work. For instance, they took me to specialists to explore prosthetics, but I quickly rejected them. Even as a child, I sensed that those aids weren’t suitable for me. Rather than overprotecting me, my parents allowed me to explore the world and learn from failure. Whether it was learning to walk, write, or ride a bike, they believed I could achieve anything I set my mind to. When I stumbled, we would joke, “Not everyone can play the flute anyway.” Interestingly, I ended up picking up the trombone.
When other kids were curious about my appearance, my parents encouraged open dialogue. They taught me to discuss my differences and ask questions about the others. This approach often shifted the focus from my uniqueness to what games we could play instead.
My parents also enforced a strict “no pity party” policy. I had my fair share of tough days, coming home from school feeling down, but they understood the importance of moving on swiftly. They recognized my struggles but knew it was vital not to dwell on things I couldn’t control.
Fast forward over eleven years since that ultrasound. Mia is now a sixth grader, Leo is in third grade, and their younger sister, Ella, is in first. Many might look at us and think they wouldn’t want to trade places, but having walked this path, I wouldn’t change a thing.
John and I strive to emulate my parents as we raise our children. We have the instinct to protect them, but we avoid overprotection. We instill in them the belief that anything is achievable. Besides his passion for basketball and tennis, Mia picked up the guitar at sleep-away camp this summer. Leo, who loves archery and drawing, persuaded us to let him join a baseball team last spring.
Having embraced my differences, I’ve come to appreciate the beauty of imperfection, a lesson I’ve passed on to my kids. They are learning to take pride in their uniqueness without needing games like “My little champion” to feel validated.
If you’re exploring options for pregnancy, you can find more about home insemination at this excellent resource. For those looking into artificial insemination methods, Make a Mom is an authority worth checking out, and for a comprehensive understanding of the process, Wikipedia provides valuable information.
In summary, the journey of parenting and embracing differences can be challenging yet beautiful. By focusing on self-acceptance and resilience, we can raise children who are proud of who they are.