Happy Birthday, Brooklyn! We love you more than words could ever describe.
Seek
They are as blue as the sky, but run deeper than the ocean. They look straight past your weaknesses and pull out hope and strength and faith and the I-can-do-this will you never knew you had lurking beneath the surface.
They pierce your soul and make you search, dig, and discover that what makes you “special” is hidden inside your heart and has nothing to do with the way you look, what you have, or what you can’t do.
They are strong and determined and gentle and breathtaking. They inspire my heart, keep my mind focused, and encourage my spirit.
In one glance, I am reminded of the artistry of this life, of His creation. The beauty He carefully placed in all of us.
You just have to be willing to look for it.
Climbing
So I realize that I haven’t been very good about updating all of you on how Brooklyn is doing physically. It hasn’t been on purpose. Most of the time, I’m just too tired to type it all out, and sometimes…well, I just don’t want to. Or, rather, I’m not ready to. But after seeing all the wonderful comments about the photos I posted a few weeks ago with Brooklyn sucking on her toes, I feel I at least owe you a quick explanation of how our little Rockstar is doing.
She has been a busy girl the last few months. She has physical therapy once a week for her gross motor skills and occupational therapy once a week for her gross and fine motor skills. She is delayed a tad on both, but that is to be expected since she is still building up her core strength. Her casts and her head size put her at a disadvantage from the start, and because she is missing leg mass (muscles), her center of gravity is off. Needless to say, she is working hard to catch up.
She can roll over from belly to back, but when it comes time for back to belly, she struggles. She tries so hard to do it, but her legs get stuck and she needs a little help getting them out of the way.
She is definitely kicking and can bend her legs at the knee, although both take some effort. It’s pretty clear that she doesn’t have any feeling in her feet or toes, but that doesn’t keep us from tickling, rubbing, and praying over them every chance we get. We’re not sure if she has any feeling between her ankles and her knees, but she definitely has feeling in her quads, as evidenced by her giggle every time they get tickled during a diaper change. According to our physical therapist, quads are all that she needs to walk.
She is THISclose to sitting all by herself, and I am so proud of how far she has come in just a few months. She no longer cries through her therapy sessions and is happily interacting with toys and her therapists. She still, however, hates tummy time, but she is starting to tolerate that more and more.
We have done some weight-bearing leg exercises, but because she lacks feeling in her feet, she doesn’t quite understand that she can support her body with her legs. So we are going to have to teach her legs what to do—and that will take time.
She will also need to have surgery in the next two months since her first foot surgery didn’t take, so she will be back in casts right around her first birthday. A bummer for sure, but the good news is that once she is out of the casts, she goes right into a stander, which gives us a huge incentive to get her feet where they need to be.
I have to admit, watching her work isn’t always easy. I know what my other girls were doing at this age – Kendall was practically walking – and I am trying hard not to go there. There is just so much that I took for granted. And then, of course, I see other babies her age crawling around and standing, and we aren’t anywhere near that.
I’m not going to sugar-coat it…all of that hurts. Up until now, the differences have been minimal. Brooklyn has been just like any other happy, kicking baby. But now…now the things we feared the most are starting to surface and, well, that can take its toll on a mama’s heart. Honestly, it has been taking a bit of a toll on all of our hearts.
But as I am learning, this is all part of the process of acceptance. I am learning it is okay to hurt and not be Miss Positive all the time because if I am really going to work through this in a healthy way, I’m going to have to admit that I do get sad. I do get frustrated. And I do get disappointed.
In many ways, I feel like we are climbing a mountain. Sometimes we are full speed ahead with our eyes on the prize, while other times we are exhausted, trying to find our way around a bump, or just need a break. All of that is part of the journey.
At this week’s physical therapy session, our therapist did something new. She propped Brooklyn’s arms up against a chair as she held her legs straight, and it looked like she was standing on her own. And in that moment, I got to experience a new part of the journey—the mountaintop.
I can’t tell you what an awesome feeling it was to get a glimpse into Brooklyn’s future. My heart felt like it was literally going to burst. I was so proud I could barely contain myself—and she wasn’t even really standing by herself.
Not yet, that is.
This journey is rough and I know it will be long, but I now know that it will be those mountaintop moments that will make every rough patch, every bump, every stumble more than worth it. As a man I respected very much used to say, “Onward and Upward!”