***this was written about a week ago. Easter and a trip back to Nebraska delayed publishing.
We are fast approaching the one year mark since Zach was hospitalized with meningitis.I had no idea what this past year would have in store, but I knew my boy had a hard road ahead of him getting caught up in his development. He has worked with physical therapists, occupational therapists, hearing teachers, vision teachers, and a handful of other service providers. His progress has been slow and steady, and would go through spurts of development, and it has been so delightful watching him grow. Of course, I’m mommy, so I worry. Constantly. His prognosis is so uncertain I have found it hard to be hopeful that I will see him crawl, take his first steps, say his first words… I’ve gotten used to being cautious of being too optimistic–call it being burned too many times, but I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Though I’m guarded, I always hold hope for my little guy. We do his exercises every day, several times a day, as much as he will let me. There are days when he looks at me, and I know he’s thinking “Lady, not right now.” So we take a break. For as much time as we’ve spent working with him, there have been such times of frustration when it seemed like he wasn’t progressing. He would take one step forward, and stop and never take that step again. Back in December, he crawled forward a few steps and I was so excited. And then he didn’t do it again.
But, this weekend, this little booger has amazed us. On Saturday he was playing on the floor, rolling around, and suddenly he had pushed up on his hands and knees. I had seen him do it a few times before, but never consistently. So I watched him, smiled, and went back to what I was doing. And then I looked up, and he was doing it again. And again. And again. And then he pushed up, held himself up, and slowly swung his left leg out, cautiously, and tried to sit up by himself. After he set his leg in place, he sat there for a minute, and fell over. And then he pushed up again.
I was giddy. I was in tears. I wanted to scream and shout “woohoo!!!” but I knew if I did, I would distract him and he would stop. As he wore himself out, I picked him up and snuggled and kissed and hugged him until I’m sure we looked like Pepe Le Pew and the cat he loved. I was so proud of my little boy and how hard he was working. Almost a year of hard work was showing itself.