Thanks to everyone for your kind, warm, encouraging words after my last post. Getting anything other than "normal," "squeaky clean" results has knocked me down. After three-and-a-half years of testing with "normal," "normal," "normal," results, I cannot lie -- getting these MRI results back hurt. As a mother, I think it may just be impossible not to worry. For the anxiety and worry to not, at times, threaten to consume us. Certainly, I -- someone who simply does not deal with uncertainty well -- suffer more in these times, than others might. B would say that I fall down harder, and that may be so.
This all comes at a time when I'm slammed at work, working for a new (and intimidating) partner and wanting to impress him (particularly with our upcoming reviews). So, it has been, to say the least, a trying week. I find that I'm at my best when I'm up and doing, but getting up and doing has been hard. I find myself catapulted back into the worry of the sort I did three years ago, when we first started this journey, tempted to google myself into a frenzy (but managing not to) and wanting nothing other than to just lay and hold my girl(s!). Yet, I can't. Not all the time anyway.
But through it all . . . our magical Sammie B just exudes joy and love. She's the same little girl she was the day before those results, with the same bright future. She is NOT her MRI. She is joy and love, and somehow, she always knows just what her mama needs. We've had so many wonderful moments over the last few days, and while I told myself I'd remember every single one of them, I'm sure some have slipped my mind, but I'll share the ones that come to mind:
Last week, we put Sammie B in her gait trainer in the den and asked if she wanted the brakes on (usually she does) so she wouldn't move, but she said "no," and proceeded to move herself around quite a bit, even turning it all the way around, which is no easy feat. Her faithful little sister even gave her a little push when she needed it! As Mia gets older, I can see these two will be allies for sure! It's fun to watch Sammie B get into things in places she's never gotten to explore independently. This gait trainer, though at times she may act as if it is her nemesis, is no doubt an amazing gift toward independence. After going through all the DVD cases on our entertainment center (and throwing a few in the floor), as she marched herself right out of our den and into the dining room, she said, "bye bye mama," with her little sister trailing behind. Exuding joy.
(I wish the pictures were better quality and my house neater, but that's not the important stuff, right?!)
Friday night, we went to a friend's house for dinner, and they had a small stair case between their living and dining rooms, with shorter than typical stairs and Mia kept crawling up . . . Sammie B said "I want to crawl up," and with just the tiniest bit of assistance, she did. And, when she got to the top, she threw her hands in the air, yelled, "I did it! I made it to the top!" and we all broke into wild applause to which she responded, "thank you thank you thank you!" And, when her sister crawled up to the top the next time, Sammie B was quick to compliment her as well . . . with "Mia! Good job! You made it to the top!" Exuding love. Exuding Joy.
Saturday afternoon, I decided to take a nap with Sammie B so that I could stay up late and work (boo!) and just as I was dozing off, I was woken up by a quick little peck right on my lips from the one and only Sammie B. Exuding love.
We are always looking for ways to get more protein and calories in Sammie B, who is a picky little bird when it comes to eating. Sunday, B came home with a brownie fulllllll of protein, and she and B took turns throwing pieces into each other's mouths. The giggles were priceless. Exuding joy.
These moments are the moments that will define this little family. The joyful moments so, so full of love.
Many, many months ago . . . I saw this on another blog, and I sent it to another mom friend whose son had an abnormal MRI. It gave me chills then, and does now so more than ever:
"The MRI of [your daughter's] brain is not a map of her future. It doesn't say anything about her learning to wave goodbye or blow kisses with her right hand, or her extraordinary flirting skills. On these points, that damn test is curiously silent."
Sammie B exudes love, joy and magic. And on that, that damn MRI was silent.
I am eternally grateful to have this blog to come to, to share my feelings, and to know that so, so many are cheering my sweet girl on. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.