My classmates cheered me on, their faces filled with encouragement. At 38, I felt too old and self-conscious to be a novice diver. I avoided eye contact, but then I realized that my hesitance was more conspicuous than my effort. With hands pressed together in a silent prayer, I leaped off the block and sliced through the water with surprising grace.
I found myself in that diving class because my youngest child was halfway through kindergarten. It felt like I was finally catching my breath, and I was eager for new personal challenges. While many of my friends were training for triathlons, I knew my swimming skills needed a boost. Growing up near the water, I loved the thrill of the ocean’s waves and the serenity of the rivers. I could swim, but during laps, I often felt like I was sinking.
During our third class, the instructor inquired, “Is anyone interested in learning how to dive?” I recalled my childhood desire to dive, which had faded after a few attempts with friends at the pool. I had watched my older children dive confidently at swim meets, and I longed to experience that thrill myself.
After class, as I stepped into the shower, tears unexpectedly streamed down my face. I felt a mix of surprise and happiness, having accomplished something I thought I’d left behind. I had assumed that door was closed, that I was too old, too timid, and too embarrassed to try again.
Months later, I discovered I was pregnant with my fourth child. Excitement filled me; I felt like a parenting pro now. I could nurse in any chair, excel in the PTA, whip up dinner with little in the pantry, and relied on my pediatrician’s guidance. We had three wonderful kids and eagerly anticipated the new arrival.
However, the fourth pregnancy was complicated, resulting in an emergency cesarean section at 32 weeks. My son, though small, was declared perfect—a “feeder and grower,” they said in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. But just six days later, a group B strep infection caused severe complications, and we faced the terrifying reality of nearly losing him. He eventually came home but struggled with motor delays, and we feared he couldn’t see. A neuro-ophthalmologist confirmed our worst fears, revealing that my son’s MRI showed significant damage. We left the hospital feeling utterly lost as my son began having seizures and was diagnosed with cerebral palsy.
Every time I thought I was surfacing for air, new challenges submerged me deeper, presenting fresh hurdles almost daily. Those early years became a whirlwind of appointments and therapies, filled with the exhaustion of explaining his condition to everyone around us. I couldn’t merely float along; I had to advocate and educate while being a mom to all my children.
This year, my son started taking the bus to kindergarten in his adorable little red wheelchair, and I feel like I’m beginning to emerge from the depths once more. I have many responsibilities ahead, navigating special education and planning for the future. Is there a new therapy we should consider? Would a different school be better suited for him? What financial provisions do we need for a lifetime of care?
I refuse to let age, fear, or embarrassment prevent me from being his mother. Most days, I dive right in. I doubt I’ll ever have that cathartic moment again when I cry in the shower, rinsing away fear, worry, and regret.
I ultimately completed a triathlon, where the swim proved the toughest challenge. Battling the waves on the way out, I learned to harness them on my return to shore. I didn’t shed tears at the finish line; I knew I could do it. Once I dove in, I was committed to see it through.
If you’re interested in exploring more about home insemination, check out this insightful resource from the CDC for guidance during pregnancy. For those considering self-insemination, the Cryobaby Home Intracervical Insemination Syringe Kit from Make a Mom is highly recommended. And for additional tips on navigating this journey, visit our blog at Intracervical Insemination.
In summary, embracing life’s challenges and stepping into the unknown can lead to unexpected joys and accomplishments. With each dive, whether into the water or into new experiences, we can uncover strength and resilience we never knew we had.