Little Steps Big Emotions

Our youngest Max took his first consecutive steps today. Five of them. It was a magical moment. Daddy was feeding Charlotte in the kitchen within eyesight and I was on the floor with Max playing with wooden blocks. He stood up with a block in each hand. I was fully expecting him to throw them. But he spotted the leapfrog activity table. You could see the wheels in his head turning. It would take more work for him to throw the blocks down, then get to his knees crawl the five steps to the table, then to have to stand up, then it would be to try to just make it upright. So off he went, one slow step after another. I was excitingly counting the steps while Neal watched from the kitchen. 1...2...3...4....5 steps!!!! Yay!!! Max took five steps!!! Excitement, pride, jubilation. And then...

My stomach dropped, my excitement didn't feel solely like excitement anymore. It was much more complicated. And I was suddenly crying, and it was not happy tears well mostly not. It took me a minute to figure out what was going on. The I heard my therapist's voice "what are you REALLY feeling." So I started thinking about what I was really feeling and ironically it was five totally different emotions. I guess one for each of Max's steps. I was feeling Joy, Awe, Fear, Guilt, and Grief. 

This was not right. This is not how it is supposed to be when your child takes their first steps. Except in our reality this is what it was. And I knew I would have to blog to totally figure this out, lucky for you guys (wink.) Alright, Let's elaborate a bit on these emotions. Let's get the yuckys out of the way first.

Grief. As you all know. Max is not our first born and his feet should not have been the first to walk our floors. The little girl that sat feet away in her high chair should have been the first. I should have felt this joy last year when she was his age. We should have been able to celebrate this milestone with her. That is how it is supposed to me. That is typical right? Last night, we were practicing bearing weight with Lottie and I was holding her against my chest, standing her up as tall as she could go, and Neal said to me "wow, she's tall." I replied excitedly "you hold her! Let me see." She is tall. We've never noticed that. We don't get to see her upright unless she is in equipment or being held. We both sat there wondering what she would look like toddling around our house. Grief. 

Guilt. I immediately felt as though I was giving Max's steps too much attention and that I didn't want Lottie to think that this was a huge deal. I also felt guilty that I hadn't worked a miracle and gotten her to this point before him. Guilt that I will always have one child meeting milestones faster than the other. Then my guilt shifted to Max. I felt terrible that I couldn't just stay in this moment with him. That all of his firsts will feel a bit bittersweet. Guilt that I do not have this special needs/typical mommy thing down at all. Guilt.

Fear. My first fears were the typical parent fears of "oh here we go, how will I keep up with him now." Then I thought about tomorrow, the wheelchair salesman coming back to have us make a final decision on if we want to pull the trigger on a power wheelchair for Lottie. Fear that she may never take those first steps, fear she may never fully be able

to cognitively control the joystick. Fear that again Max's Big moment will be quickly overlooked for Charlotte's. Fear.

Awe. This is when things feel a little better. Having a child that works so very hard to meet the typical child's milestones helps you appreciate how awe inspiring these milestones are. How when one certain mechanism of the body is off i.e. muscle tone  it can effect how the whole body does what it needs to do. The body is amazingly complex. Some would say fearfully and wonderfully made. In walking the brain, muscles, joints, bones all have to work together to make a step. And there may even be more complexity to it. It's amazing. Awe.

Joy. Overwhelming joy. Even though the ecstasy felling only lasted a few seconds and those moments were very precious. There is joy even in the other emotions. It's hidden. But it still hangs on. Here's why. I have a whole lot of hope. I have faith that God is doing immeasurably more in Charlotte's life than I can even ask for or imagine. I have crazy mama bear optimism that I will see Lottie's feet take those first steps too and that Max will be right there cheering her on. And I even have a back up hope for if it doesn't happen, I know where my peace will come from. 

Tonight, I feel all of these things. Honestly, the Grief and Fear have dominance and the Joy is trying hard to seep through. And I know it's normal and I know this will happen again. And maybe, hopefully I will be a little better prepared to hold on to the joy a bit longer next time. This life didn't come with a manual, no ones does, so we learn from experience and we move forward. 

Max, your first steps were super important and we love you very much! And we pray the same for you that we do for Lottie, the God will do immeasurably more with those little steps than we can ask or imagine. You rock little man!