On September 18th we celebrated Andrew's 4th Birthday! It's hard to believe it's been four years already. I never imagined the road we would travel when I held Andrew in my arms. Would I trade Andrew for a typically developing child?....Definitely NOT!! He's my precious son and I wouldn't trade him for anything!(Just like any other mother) Would I trade our circumstances....probably so...however, not if it meant another child or family had to take on our situation in our place. Andrew has a personality just like all children and I wouldn't take anything for it. Just remember, his disabilities don't define his personality. At the age of 4, he has already been put under anesthesia more than most adults. He's under the care of six doctors and I've lost count of the number of tests that have been performed. Despite the tests, doctors, therapists, and medications, Andrew is a happy, fun-loving little boy. Sometimes it's amazing to see how resilient children are.
Andrew celebrated his birthday with lots of Thomas. He had a Thomas cake and received several Thomas items that he has really enjoyed. Thomas is one of his all time favorite characters. He was even trying to run the train across the track on the cake. We celebrated with friends and family. Andrew had a wonderful 4th birthday!
Monday, September 26, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Update...
We went to GI Dr. this morning. Just added another medication to treat possible reflux. Andrew has gone from hardly taking any meds a year ago, to now taking six. However, we did receive some good news in the mail when I arrived home. He has an appointment with the Shriner's Hospital on October 5th. I can't wait, even though we will need to leave out at 4am to arrive by 7am. I'm looking forward to finding out more information regarding his orthopaedic issues as well as getting help for him.
He has started horseback riding therapy and really enjoys it. I can tell by all of the noises he attempts to make when they bring him back to me, you can just hear the excitement in him! We hope this will help strengthen his core muscles as well as promote some language development as it has for other children. His brother, Matthew, went horseback riding also to help with his anxiety. He actually was able to enjoy it without thinking about school for an hour.
Andrew has been having some nights of more sleep now. He is still getting up, but there are some nights it is only once or twice. This is a big improvement to where we were a month ago. I'm still sleep deprived, just not as much. I'm thankful to be getting some sleep, even if it's not a full night! There are some nights he doesn't seem to be having as many seizures as he was. We have an appointment with the neurologist next week to see what they want to do. Continue to remember him in your prayers as well as our family! Remember....It is HOPE and FAITH that keeps us all going!
He has started horseback riding therapy and really enjoys it. I can tell by all of the noises he attempts to make when they bring him back to me, you can just hear the excitement in him! We hope this will help strengthen his core muscles as well as promote some language development as it has for other children. His brother, Matthew, went horseback riding also to help with his anxiety. He actually was able to enjoy it without thinking about school for an hour.
Andrew has been having some nights of more sleep now. He is still getting up, but there are some nights it is only once or twice. This is a big improvement to where we were a month ago. I'm still sleep deprived, just not as much. I'm thankful to be getting some sleep, even if it's not a full night! There are some nights he doesn't seem to be having as many seizures as he was. We have an appointment with the neurologist next week to see what they want to do. Continue to remember him in your prayers as well as our family! Remember....It is HOPE and FAITH that keeps us all going!
I Am Your Son
I am your son who cannot talk. You often pity me, I see it in your eyes. You wonder how much I am aware of--I see that as well. I am aware of much--Whether you are happy or sad or fearful, patient or impatient, full of love and desire, or if you are just doing your duty by me. I marvel at your frustration, knowing mine to be far greater, for I cannot express myself or my needs as you do.
You cannot conceive my isolation, so complete it is at times. I do not gift you with clever conversation, cute remarks to be laughed over and repeated. I do not give you answers to your simple everyday questions, responses over my well-being, sharing my needs, or comments about the world around me. I do not give you rewards as defined by the world's standards--great strides in development that you can marvel over; I do not give you understanding as you know it.
What I give you is much more valuable--I give you instead opportunities. Opportunities to discover the depth of your character, not mine; the depth of your love, your commitment, your patience, your abilities; the opportunity to explore your spirit more deeply than you imagined possible. I drive you further than you would ever go on your own, working harder, seeking answers to your many questions with no answers. I am your son who cannot talk.
I am your son who is developmentally challenged. I don't learn easily, if you judge me by the world's measuring stick; What I do know is infinite joy in simple things. I am not burdened as you are with the strifes and conflicts of a more complicated life. My gift to you is to grant you the freedom to enjoy things as a child, to teach you how much your arms around me mean, to give you love. I give you the gift of simplicity. I am your son who is developmentally challenged.
I am your disabled son. I am your teacher. If you allow me, I will teach you what is really important in life. I will give you and teach you unconditional love. I gift you with my innocent trust, my dependency upon you. I teach you about how precious this life is and about not taking things for granted. I teach you about forgetting your own needs and desires and dreams. I teach you giving. Most of all, I teach you hope and faith. I am your disabled son, Andrew.
You cannot conceive my isolation, so complete it is at times. I do not gift you with clever conversation, cute remarks to be laughed over and repeated. I do not give you answers to your simple everyday questions, responses over my well-being, sharing my needs, or comments about the world around me. I do not give you rewards as defined by the world's standards--great strides in development that you can marvel over; I do not give you understanding as you know it.
What I give you is much more valuable--I give you instead opportunities. Opportunities to discover the depth of your character, not mine; the depth of your love, your commitment, your patience, your abilities; the opportunity to explore your spirit more deeply than you imagined possible. I drive you further than you would ever go on your own, working harder, seeking answers to your many questions with no answers. I am your son who cannot talk.
I am your son who is developmentally challenged. I don't learn easily, if you judge me by the world's measuring stick; What I do know is infinite joy in simple things. I am not burdened as you are with the strifes and conflicts of a more complicated life. My gift to you is to grant you the freedom to enjoy things as a child, to teach you how much your arms around me mean, to give you love. I give you the gift of simplicity. I am your son who is developmentally challenged.
I am your disabled son. I am your teacher. If you allow me, I will teach you what is really important in life. I will give you and teach you unconditional love. I gift you with my innocent trust, my dependency upon you. I teach you about how precious this life is and about not taking things for granted. I teach you about forgetting your own needs and desires and dreams. I teach you giving. Most of all, I teach you hope and faith. I am your disabled son, Andrew.
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