Updated: October 28, 2019
Originally Published: November 5, 2014
“I’m sad because my legs don’t work so good,” my son said, his little voice trembling with frustration. “I can’t run fast like Leo. My legs don’t work.”
In that moment, a heavy silence engulfed the car as if time itself had stopped. My heart raced, pounding in my ears, while the weight of his words hung in the air, filling the space between us. I held my breath, wishing someone would step in and reassure him that everything would be alright—that he’s perfect just the way he is. But it was just me and him, and I felt utterly unequipped to respond. What was I supposed to say? That everything would be fine? That it was unfair? That I was sorry?
I thought we had more time.
I imagined a world where my beautiful boy, who had just grasped the concept of being a boy last week, could remain blissfully unaware of his Cerebral Palsy. He had just learned my name was “Jamie,” even if he still struggled to remember his dad’s name. I thought we had more time before he had to confront the harsh reality that some kids have to work harder than others just to get through the day.
We always told ourselves that at least he didn’t realize he was different—that he didn’t know the effort it took for him to navigate life, with the eight hours of therapy each week just to keep up. But today, he knew.
It hit me during our drive when he said Leo didn’t look so good. I glanced in the rearview mirror, expecting to see a child who appeared ill, but Leo looked fine. I assumed he was upset about not being able to wear his favorite watch to school. I encouraged Parker, his sister, to ask him about it, hoping for a moment of connection.
“Owey, what’s wrong?” she inquired sweetly.
“I’m sad,” he replied.
“Why are you sad?” she pressed.
“I’m sad because my legs don’t work so good. I can’t run fast like Leo,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
I felt a gasp escape my lips, a silent plea for strength. But then Parker, my fierce little girl, jumped in. “No, Owey! You’re going to be really fast one day! You can wear my sneakers, even though they’re pink, because they light up and that makes people fast. You should ask Daddy to help you with your running skills. I bet you’ll even beat me someday!”
Her words were a beautiful gift to him. Despite her own challenges with arthritis and sensory issues, she offered him hope and encouragement without hesitation. I thought she had more time before she had to step into this role of protector and supporter for her brother.
As I dropped him off at school, I shared with his therapist that he was feeling a bit sad today. He gave me a kiss goodbye, his blue-green eyes lacking their usual sparkle, and I felt that familiar ache in my heart. He had crossed a threshold he couldn’t un-cross, and I knew I couldn’t shield him from the realities of life anymore.
After leaving his school, I turned to Parker at a red light and told her how proud I was of her kindness and grace. Then I called my partner, Eric, to share what had unfolded, finally allowing the tears to flow. I was left wondering how to explain this newfound awareness to our son, grappling with the weight of what lay ahead.
As I reflected on that morning, the conversations that would inevitably follow loomed over me. I felt utterly unequipped to provide the comfort he needed. There are moments when a hug and a kiss simply aren’t enough, and I wished for a way to convey how deeply sorry I was for what he had to face, even as I felt an overwhelming love for him.
I thought we had more time.
If you’re looking to explore more about home insemination, check out this resource for essential tools and information or learn about intrauterine insemination for additional clarity. And if you want to connect further, feel free to reach out on our contact page.
Summary:
In this heartfelt reflection, a mother grapples with her son’s realization of his Cerebral Palsy and the challenges that come with it. As she navigates her own emotions, she witnesses a touching moment between her children that highlights resilience and love. The story underscores the importance of communication and support within a family facing adversity, reminding us that even in difficult times, hope and encouragement can shine through.