Lisa Bonnema

Mom. Writer. Speaker.

Rock Star

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They said there was no way to know her abilities. What she will or won’t be able to do.

Every case is different. Every child is different.

Wait and see. Wait and see.

Well, we have waited, and now we are seeing. Seeing miracles. Perhaps through a different lens than the rest of the world, but we are seeing miracles.

From the first day she kicked those legs, to the first day she sat up, to first day she scooted across that floor, to the first day she stood tall and proud.

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And now we are here. Walking. A place that looks different than I ever would have imagined, but a place that is more beautiful than I ever could have dreamed.

Of course, there will be more milestones. More independence. More work. But I have no doubt she will amaze me every single time.

Just weeks ago, they said that she was “too young” to start using a walker.

“Mrs. Bonnema, these kids with Spina Bifida aren’t typically ready until 24 months, sometimes 3 years old.”

Well, my dear surgeon, perhaps you have forgotten what you told me 2 years ago. Words I have hung onto every day of her existence.

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Every case is different. Every child is different. 

She is different

and motivated

and stronger than you or I will ever be.

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And perhaps, my dear surgeon, you haven’t met my God. Because He? Well, He can do anything. Through you, through me, and most certainly through these kids with Spina Bifida.

They are rock stars. Every one of them. Not because of their challenges, but because of how they overcome those challenges.

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Our rock star has decided to skip the part where you fit her for a more mobile form of bracing. We will get fitted for that next week, but until then, she has decided that she’s not waiting for anyone to tell her what she is able to do. All she needed was some wheels, and thankfully God provided us with a therapist who ignored her age and her diagnosis — and only saw her abilities.

Apparently “wait and see” isn’t on Brooklyn’s agenda.

Yeah, total rock star.

Linking up with Small Style…
T-shirt: Okie Dokie (gifted)
Leg warmers: hand-made (gifted)
skirt: Baby Gap, niece hand-me-down
hair bow: Adornmegirl
shoes: Pedoodles, Kendall hand-me-downs

Special

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Most days when I look at her, I forget. I don’t think about Spina Bifida, her shunt, her cathing, or her legs. I just see her — Brooklyn — and the beautiful spirit that she is. The way she now gives tight-around-the-neck hugs, her silly games of peek-a-boo, her fake “cries” to get attention, how she raises her little finger for “one more” book, and the way she adores every single thing her big sisters do.

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But then there are other days when the tears fall fast and quick — and I’m not really sure why. Days like today when I remember what she’s been through and how it just isn’t fair. How another rock star friend of hers has to go in for another surgery, and it just isn’t fair. They are only children.

They are only children. 

But what’s amazing about all of this is that it only takes one more look at her — at that little impish grin — and I forget all over again. I have written before about how I don’t know if I could love her without hurting a little, and I think perhaps I was wrong. Yes, I hurt for her, but most of the time I just see all of the joy, the love, and the beauty she has brought into our lives. Part of that is because of her Spina Bifida and all that has taught us, but most of that is because of who she is…something that has nothing to do with her Spina Bifida at all.

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Her determination is what is allowing her to succeed far beyond any of our expectations. Her gentle spirit is what has her therapists wrapped around her little finger. Her playful attitude is what captivates her sisters’ attention when they could very easily ignore her.

When people talk about their diagnosis not defining them…I get it. Now I get it. This girl is so much more than the scars on her back, her head, and her feet. She is Brooklyn.

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And that is what makes her special.

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Making it Work…
dress and legwarmers — Target, Kendall hand-me-downs
shirt — Cherokee, niece hand-me-down
shoes — Pedoodles, Kendall hand-me-downs
headband — Adornemegirl

The Photo That Should Have Been Our Christmas Card

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Well, I didn’t send out Christmas cards this year — those stamps add up — but I did manage to get a photo of all three of them in their Christmas outfits. And I literally mean a photo, as in 1 take, on the way out the door to church. Not bad, ‘eh?

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Hope you all had a great Christmas!

Making It Work…
Emma: shirt – Children’s Place, skirt and leggings: via Kohl’s (gifted); scarf – Justice
Brooklyn: shirt, skirt, and sweater – Children’s Place, Emma hand-me-down (see Emma in it here and Kendall in it here... too fun!); red shoes — I wish you could see them! — Pediped, Kendall hand-me-downs
Kendall: dress – Gymboree, Emma hand-me-down

Freeze

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I can feel the chill finding it’s way through the cracks of the storm door, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. As she leans in, trying to press her head against the cool glass, I hold on tight to her stander so she doesn’t tip over.

She has the most beautiful profile. I have always hated mine. It’s the nose that goofs it up for me. But her nose…it is absolutely perfect.

Open fisted she bangs, bangs, bangs on the glass, desperately trying to get her sisters’ attention. Kendall sees her and quickly comes up to the door, eyes peeking out between hat and scarf.

Brooklyn is giggling as Kendall approaches, and she starts jerking back and forth in her stander in excitement. Kendall opens the door with a snow-covered mitten and gives her baby sister a snotty kiss on the head.

“Careful,” I say as she closes the door. Tiny fingers in door jams is one of my biggest Mommy fears.

Emma is now looking for Kendall, and the two decide to play in the driveway as Jeff sweeps away evidence of the first snow. The girls are dancing and don’t seem to mind that there is merely a light dust covering the ground.

I look back at Brooklyn. She is watching them closely, smiling and cooing and I swear wishing she could be out there with them. There is a pang in my heart, and I wonder if she knows. She can’t possibly, right? Not yet.

Please, not yet.

I am not ready for that day. The day that threatens to take her innocence, her joy. I will do my best to not let that happen, but there will be sadness. This I know.  Jeff and I have often said we’d just like to freeze time, to let her be this age forever.

I decide that there is no reason she can’t feel the snow beckoning her from behind the glass. I lay her down, get her out of the stander, and let her sit and watch the girls while I try to find a snowsuit. I quickly search through bins, only to discover that it must be in one of the bins I lent to my sisters.

Defeated, I look around at the mess I’ve made and see the shoe bin. I’ve been meaning to pull it out since Brooklyn got her casts off and decide now is a good time to go through it.

I lug the blue bin over to Brooklyn and, together, we sift through the shoes and find ones that will fit over her AFO braces. Some work, some don’t. When we are finished, she is left with a pretty good shoe supply, including a pair of red shoes Kendall only wore twice. I leave them on, even though they clash with her pink outfit.

I hear the garage door open and the scuffling of boots and unzipping of snow pants. The girls are asking for a snack and the hot chocolate I promised them. I ask Brooklyn if she wants a snack, and she eagerly signs “eat” with an anxious “tst, tst, tst.”

We all head to the kitchen, and I cut up some apples and scatter Cheerios on Brooklyn’s highchair. She gathers them and stuffs them in her mouth all at once. I give her “the look,” and she just grins, knowing exactly what Mommy’s gonna say.

“One at a time, Brooklyn…”

I pour freshly made hot chocolate into mugs and top them with stale marshmallows. I warned the girls that they were stale, but they decided that stale marshmallows were better than no marshmallows at all.

I couldn’t agree more. I just hope that someday, she does too.