Pizza and Envy

Two evenings ago, we went out to eat as a family.  We crowded into a booth and shared a couple of yummy pizzas.  Caleb remained buckled in his carseat and happily drank his bottle.  It was a fun evening, we rated the pizza against our childhood favorite pizzas and laughed and played silly games.  Crave and I even made googly eyes at each other across the table.  When we were all paid up, we bundled up and headed out to the car to head home.  As we were leaving the restuarant I just happened to glance in the window and saw a young family with a baby, around ten months if I had to guess.  He was buckled in a  wooden high chair.  I watched as they studied their menus and he brought his hands together to clap and clap and clap.  He was so animated and lively.  His parents looked on, probably trying to decide which pizza to order.  But something in my heart ached, almost ripped.  I wanted to tap on the glass and point to there baby and have them notice and admire him.  No doubt they were devoted and attentive parents, they safely buckled him in, provided toys for him, dressed him warmly for the cool weather.  But my heart ached because there baby was doing something my little boy can't or won't do. Something I have been working and encouraging for months with him to do, clap his hands and have expressive, interactive play.  This family took for granted this develpmental play moment, and I have been anxiously waiting and working for it with Caleb.  I also admitted to myself that I took those moments for granted with my girls.  So many normal and interactive activites and moments I never relished or appreciated as much as I could or should have.  From first laughters and first words to reaching out for me and playing with me, moments I long for with Caleb, moments I savor so much when they do happen or when they will eventually.

 Our therapy assignment for the last two weeks was to have more interactive play, to encourage him to knock things over and bang them together.  His illness and the rest of the familys' illness as well has halted our play therapy.  And so when I saw that little baby doing the things I so want Caleb to do it was like time stopped for a minute.  I spent the rest of the drive home and the remaining evening quiet, introspective, and stewing in my own jealousy, envy and regret.  Not a great place to be, noting every thing your child is NOT doing that others' babies are easily doing.  Angry that everything is so much more stressfull and planned out,it is play therapy and not just play.  Sad that I am not just enjoying the wonderful things he is doing now like crawling and rolling and smiling.  Guilt that I am not focusing on how far we have come but instead on how far we have not come.  Envious that I did not get the beautiful birth and bonding time of his newborn months and the months of his infancy have been work and worry.

  I am aware more so each day that he is my last baby, that my 'baby days' are soon over.  Before his birth I had worked up that expectation in my mind and heart.   How fitting I thought to have a little boy as my last baby, I could enjoy all the other things of infancy that I love and also learn new things in mothering a boy.  I did not know that the stages of infancy would be so different for Caleb and I.  I had no idea our journey would be so different and difficult.  I did not know I would learn so much more than just how to mother a boy.
With the girls I easily glided from one stage to the next, looking forward to the first smile, coo, crawl, step.  With Caleb it has been so different, each milestone has not just "happened."  It has required work, exercise, discipline, forethought and prayer.  He has come along way from when we first brought him home.  I remember vividly his first months home.  His neck was so stiff, he could not turn his head.  Baths were a struggle and not a joy; his neck muscles were so tight he was hard to wash.  With many months of therapy and exercise, he has almost full range of motion in his neck.  So therapy is working, he is progressing.  I know I should just be thankful for that and remain in that mind frame.  If only I weren't human, right? 
I can say I do not spend every day asking "Why me?" or "Why us?"  Most days I am caught up in how blessed we are to have him home, how sweet he is, how far he has come.  Even though he does not cry out for "Mama", his eyes and his whole body cry out for me and light up for me.  Even though he does not clap or bang or "play" like others, he still finds joy and brings joy.  Will these milestones come, oh Lord I hope and pray.  I cannot begrudge others for happy, healthy, normal children.  I can only encourage them to look up and see how amazing their babies are, how blessed they are to enjoy the moments and milestones without all the extra work and worry.  I hope I do not sound jaded, I try to keep that in check.  God is good and He has blessed us so much.  My sweet little boy is a living miracle baby and I do believe God continues to work in him and heal him.  I did not realize I had so much more to learn as a mother!