My Baby, Forever

Developmentally delayed, but, he’s improving, little, by little each, and every day, and that, is what’s, most, important, translated…

That Was, the Very First Time We’d Met up, as Mother and Son, I Looked at His Tiny Body, with so Many Tubes in and Out of Him, it’d, Ached My Heart so, and I Started, Melting Down……….

What Happens Next, it Was, Nothing Like on T.V.

A little over three years after we were married, I just, couldn’t, get pregnant, I’d gone to the various medical treatment procedures, east and west, gone to all the temples, to trying out an assortments of ways, took a ton of golden shovels, used an assortment of measures, suggested by my friends, and my relatives too, until that pregnancy test showed two red lines, I was ecstatic, screaming loudly, “I’m going to be a mother!”

The first pregnancy was always, handled with extreme care and concern, in order to avoid the assortments of hereditary conditions, I’d gone to the assortments of tests all around, and, I was always on edge at my examinations at the hospitals, until my gynecologist told me, that the fetus was, fine and healthy, that was when I’d let out that sigh of, relief.

Every day, I’d imagined, how my child is, growing in me slowly, sometimes, stretching his arms and legs out, sometimes, practicing martial arts, the kicks, the punches too.  And because the fetus wasn’t positioned correctly, my gynecologist and I set up a time for the caesarian section, but, my naughty baby had, inherited my type A personality, on the day before the scheduled caesarian, I’d started having my contractions, and, he came early.

The process of birth was, actually, a bit, critical, because of how quickly I dilated, I was, wheeled into the operating room, after the anesthesia, I felt that the gynecologist, pulled my baby out of my body; then, everything was not like on T.V., I only remembered that I was, drowsy, and wanted to, barf, not really recalled if or what my baby’s cries sounded like, and the nurses, didn’t, hand him to me either.

After birth, because of arrythmia, I stayed bedridden for three whole days, and I finally, got off my hospital bed, with my pain still intact, to go see my child.  That was, the very first time we’d met up, as mother and son, seeing how there were, tubes in and out of his, tiny body, cute and, heartbreaking at the same time, I’d started melting down, “he’d only inhaled some fecal matter inside the uterus right?  How did it become, so serious!”

illustration from UDN.com

The baby stayed in the neonatal I.C.U. for ten days, and, I’d, counted down to when I get to, finally, take him home, to hug him, to put my arms around him.  And finally, as he was, released from the hospital, our trials started.  As we got him home, he’d, barfed out the formulas too easily, and, unlike most infants, cried like crazy, sometimes, he’d become, too, sleepy, fallen, in that daze, and, not drank his milk at all.

As first time mothers, being anxious is, unavoided, I took him to the hospital for an examination, and the doctors told me that he needed to be, hospitalized, again.  And because there are, only limited time for visit in the neonatal I.C.U., I could only stay by him for half an hour each day, and it’d made me feel awful, leaving him, all alone, inside the hospital, and I’d felt bad over this too.

Slowly, I’d found, that something wasn’t, quite right with my child, at the age of four months, the infants should be, flipping over on their tummies, and yet, he’d, stared at the ceiling a lot, his body was, limp, and, not at all, intrigued by the toys at all.  And, based off of my previous experience as a medical journalist, I’d, believed that he may be, developmentally, delayed.

After assessments at the hospital, I was, proven, right, and knowing the importance of early intervention, I’d, insisted to place him in the program since he was only six months of age, and although, it’d been, difficult all the way here, so long as I saw him progressing, little by little each and every day, I’d felt, glad.

We’re Either at Home, or, On Our Ways to the Hospital

As my son was young, we’re either at home, or on our ways to the hospital.  In order to find out what made him, developmentally, delayed, we’d needed to put him through an assortment of tests, and each and every time, the nurses had a hell of a time, trying to find the tiny blood vessels on him, to stick the needle in, and in the very end, they’d, just, stuck that needle into his arms, which made him wailed, loud, and, watching him, it’d felt like, the needles were, stabbed into my heart.

After the genetic marker tests, and the hereditary condition scans, there’s, still not assigned reason, until as my son turned one, they’d scheduled an MRI for him, and found, that his brains was, damaged, he was diagnosed with periventricular leukomalacia, or, ordinary known as, cerebral palsy; but, even so, the neurologists couldn’t be certain, that this, was the primary cause of him being, developmentally, delayed, and told us, that this, was what the results of his brain scans showed.  There’s no magical cure for this condition, the only method is by continual physical therapy, and to follow up.

From when he’d flipped onto his tummy, to crawling, to now, walking around, steadying himself on the furniture pieces, to finding his own toys, and smiling at mommy’s car, and smiling at his favorite songs, wanted to use a spoon to get the foods, to put the apple, into his own mouth……..

All of these, seemingly, easy actions, it wasn’t, for my son, it’d, taken him a lot of energies, to finally complete.  And, although he still, couldn’t stand up on his own yet, nor does he know how to call us mommy and daddy, but my love for him, will never change.  And now, my son is taking the courses in the Love-Wisdom Developmental Center, learning to accept more stimulations, with the cares and concerns, of the teachers who are, training him, I’m sure, he will, get better with time.

Maple, my dear son, in mommy’s eyes, you’re, the same as other children, you and your younger brother are, angels, sent to us, it’s just, that you’d, injured your wings, and, you’re, slow, to take flight is all.  The road of your life is going to be long, it’s okay if, you started off slow, mommy, daddy, grandpa, grandma, and your brother, we will, all accompany you on your way, giving you tons of love, all you need to do, is to keep your, innocent smile, keep going forward, grow up healthy and safe, that, is my biggest wish, for you.

And so, this, is a mother’s journey, to accepting her own son as developmentally delayed, and, these things still happen, to the most ordinary of families around us, and, we don’t know the hardships, the trials of these families, because we haven’t the experiences, and, this is a mother’s strength, in showing love and support to her own son, loving him, no matter what!