On one of my mommy boards, someone posted asking if any of the moms felt like their husbands had a harder time accepting their child's delays than the moms did, and how the couples dealt with it together. One mom answered that it felt like she and her husband each reached the same place of peace and acceptance on their own, and silently, which I think sums up how happened for me and B. We haven't had an easy time as parents. A fabulous time, yes, but easy, not so much. We've carried the heavy burden of worrying about choosing the right doctors and therapists, we've been through eye surgery and an MRI, and we've worried that we were missing something or that the doctors were. We've shared a TON of giggles, love, hugs, and fun, but we haven't done as good of a job of sharing our worries.
Through it all, I guess B's been a little more "quiet" about his struggles than I have (admittedly, I've hit rough patches that were less "quiet"). I think in many ways, we were both afraid to talk about how we felt and our fears, because if the other one was in a better place, we didn't want to drag them into our place of worry. It's been a "quiet" journey. I've had this blog as an outlet, of course (and my mom boards and my supportive friends who've listened and supported and listened some more!) but I worried that B didn't have any real outlets for HIS worries. We've relished in the giggles and fun, but when its come to the hard parts, we've just kind of flubbed our way along, on quiet, parallel journeys. But lately, there's something different. In a good way.
Suddenly, we've found ourselves having "strategy" lunches to talk about things like what to do with that darn PT or to Hopkins or not to Hopkins (we are, we've started the intake process) or whether we think adding another OT session per week is worthwhile or where to find an indoor pool for swimming lessons when we can no longer do them outside. Me and B. Just a couple of grad school kids, all grown-up, married, with an almost two-year old (!), and making some pretty big decisions for our amazing little girl.
Suddenly, silently, we've reached this place where we can throw around terms like "delayed" and "therapeutic pre-schools" and things like that without worrying about the other one falling over. It's refreshing. This is our normal. We are at peace. (We know "peace" is fragile . . . I fear as I type this that this is all fleeting but I feel like I must put this in words to understand it). We love our lives. And, really, there's no one I'd rather be living this life with than B, who is my BEST friend. Finally, finally, it feels like we are not just sharing the good stuff, but sharing each and every part of our journey. And with that, I feel less heavy. More hopeful. Proud of us.
We may get scared along the way. We surely will worry along the way. But here we are. The three of us. And all is good. Really. Really. Really good.