Dear Charlotte

Dear Charlotte,

Mommy has been thinking about all the things I want to say to you for a few weeks now. All the things I want you to make sure you hear when you are older and can comprehend all I have to say. I know I am forgetful and I mostly live in the now and I know when you are 10 and amazing me with all of your cool skills, I won't remember all the words and feelings I have now. 

You are so loved! You are our first born and when you grew in my womb, you gave me purpose like nothing has before. A God given purpose and so I know it is of great importance. People say you look like a replica of me and I beam with pride. Because I see you as perfect! The thing is you are a much greater version of me, you radiate such joy and love. You have from day one. We were so amazed by you, and the amount of love we felt could not possibly be put in words. 

Lottie, I want you to know that even though at 4 months the doctors said you were developing differently then the average baby, it did not change you or our love for you. Yes, Daddy and I got caught up in what ifs and a search for a diagnosis and we had some very scary weeks, but one thing always remained, you are our girl and you are our purpose. 

So, we got a diagnosis, a label for some of the more challenging things you will face. Cerebral Palsy. It means nothing when describing you. It's a couple words that simply mean that while you were perfectly forming in my womb, your brain was injured and it affects your motor planning. As you will know by the time you read this, certain things are more difficult for you. Right now it's standing and talking and eating without your fingers in your mouth. (Which by the way is pretty cute.) In the past it was holding your head up or sitting or crawling but you mastered them all as I expect you will your current goals and what ever challenges lie ahead of you. And I know one thing more, you will do it with joy and love beaming out of every bit of you.

There is something really special about the way you interact with people. Grown ups and kids alike. You put people at ease and you let everyone know you love them. It does not surprise me one bit that you use the little muscle tone you have to give the best bear hugs!! I watch you with your peers and although you can't talk to them, they are drawn to you. Oh my pretty girl, it is so easy to be drawn to you. 

You already know how to please your toddler boyfriends by laughing at their toddler shenanigans. Actually this works with your brother too! 

I know these things are what makes you, you. I know this because I see it everyday and I know it because your MRI shows that the part of the brain that controls personality is completely intact. So Lottie Lou Mae, you are genuinely the precious, easygoing, people pleasing, sometimes stubborn toddler that you present to us. And I am so lucky to get to call you mine! 

When you speak my name (mama) I know that it takes a lot of work and I feel incredibly honored. When you reach up for me, I know it is a very complicated process and I feel very proud. When you sign "more" or "all done" I know that these are intricate fine motor movements that require your brain and your hands to work together properly when your brain isn't wires for that. In those moments I feel awe. 

You are incredible my sweet girl and I can not wait to watch you grow and flourish and make me proud and honored and awe stricken everyday. Always know that Mommy loves YOU! And that you and your brother will always be my greatest purpose.

Smudgy Windows

Some days I wake up, crawl out of bed ready to face the world. My specific world of special needs parenting to a 2 year old and average parenting of a 1 year old. And I feel powerful! I am "killin' it." All of Charlottes appointments are scheduled and her breakfast is full of all the important food groups. And if this  really is a killin it day, Max is dressed and fed and not watching TV but engaging in mommy/Lottie time. 

I feel like the world is our oyster and we are going to conquer it in tiny little Charlotte steps. And I get in the car and I take her to therapy and I beam as I watch her interact with her peers and try new things in PT. We leave school and I am ready to feed her a healthy lunch put her down for a fantastic nap and spend some quality time with Max. These are the days where the nap goes well and she wakes up ready to roll, which is good because we probably have another therapist coming over or we are out the door for another appointment. 

Neal comes home, makes a great dinner, the kids are happy and we enjoy our kids for who they are at that exact moment. We enjoy Charlotte's contagious laughter and Max's speeches to anyone who will listen (understanding is optional, and frankly impossible.) We put our sweet babies to bed, sing, pray, cuddle and lay them down to quickly fall asleep. I lie in my bed and I think "wow, what a great day! This special needs thing is easy and I am super mom and Lottie can take her sweet time, she is so perfect."

Then.......

I do it, I flip open Facebook and I am assaulted by adorable 2 year olds that are playing with toy vacuums and riding their new tricycles. I see videos of Charlotte's peers singing Christmas carols and wishing me a happy new year. And the mood drops

                           drops

                               drops........

I am in a different place now. No more unicorns and butterflies and rain drops on roses. I'm in a dark room with smudgy windows and the feeling of doubt in myself, doubt in Lottie's brain, even doubt in my God. It is like a wall closing in on me. Suddenly everything seems different. 

Did we really have a good day? I woke up 15 minutes late, 15 minutes of time I could have had to play with Charlotte and Max and assure them that I love them. The drive to school wasn't enjoyable because  Max was screaming and I forgot Lottie's backpack. 

And now I'm remembering how I was trying to talk to my friend and Max continued his tantrum inside the school. And at the end of the day, pdid her teacher mention that she needed a swallow study? 

Her nap was good but really her lunch could have been a bit healthier and I probably should have chosen water over juice. The therapist was here, working hard with Lottie, but was I present? Was I retaining this information? I'm pretty sure I wasn't and that when I do this activity with Lottie later I will totally mess it up and probably make it harder for Lottie to learn. 

Neal came home, he cooked dinner, he always cooks dinner. He always makes sure the kids have full tummies and all the really important healthy groups. Was I helpful or was I playing Yahtzee? What about those last few moments before bedtime, I should have put her in the stander or read a few more books. Why didn't I make that sensory board today and call that new specialist? 

Yes, the kids are in bed and I am wide awake feeling anything but a supermom. I feel like a failure. I pray to God to forgive me for my selfishness and then I squeeze in some desperate prayers for life to be more normal and for Lottie to improve, then I sort of do a take back and ask God to forgive me for not being content and trusting his plan. 

I lie in bed in that metaphorical tiny dark room with doubt papered all over the wall. But tonight I choose to look through that smudgy window. I dare myself to believe that there is life on the other side, that tomorrow I can wake up feeling like supermom again and maybe be content in what I can do or possibly rearrange things to make the day more beneficial. That smudgy window tries to hide a lot but it does not hide the brightness that are my children. 

It can't hide Charlotte standing on the trampoline for the first time today. 

It can't hide her infectious laugh and giggle. 

It can not hide her brushing her teeth on her own 

It can't hide the friendships she is making at school

It can't hide the love she shares with her family. 

And her best friends: 

And most importantly it can't hide that God knows the plans he has for her. Plans to prosper her and not harm her, plans to give her hope and a future!! (Jeremiah 29:11) 

When I view it through that lense, the mix between the smudgy windows and the raindrops on roses seems to be ok, maybe we can't see all the intricate details of the raindrop or the rose just yet but actually I think it's better. We have an original view. A view that will make that drop of rain even sweeter someday.