Friday, March 18, 2016

On this day...

On this day 1 year ago: We found out Jack had dwarfism. I was 36 weeks pregnant.
On this day 2 years ago: We found out Petey had so many birth defects he likely would not make it. I was 19 weeks pregnant.

Two years in a row we were at MFM on this day, learning the fate of the child I was carrying. Crying, wondering how this could be our reality.

March 17 & 18 are loaded days for me. Last year was so surreal to be in the same place with the same doctors as the previous year. It was a huge relief to hear that there was a low chance of Jack's dwarfism being lethal but I'm not sure it eased much of the anxiety and the overall sense of doom and deja vu.  I've been dreading the days leading up to today and yesterday. I wonder how many years it will take for me to NOT have my past be my prevailing thought leading up to these days. I wonder if that will ever fully go away.

I feel ashamed when I think back to one year ago. When the OB told me the ultrasound revealed that he had dwarfism I was in shock. I was scared, I was confused, I felt cursed, I felt...disappointed. I didn't want it to be true. I didn't want to be carrying a little person. I barely even knew what dwarfism was. I just knew it wasn't "NORMAL".  And ALL I wanted was to be normal. After being "special" due to years of infertility, after being "special" due to IVF, after being "special" due to loss, and due to choosing TFMR...I was in too many categories outside the norm. I just wanted to be normal. I wanted one thing to go right. I wanted to put all of these hardships in my past and be able to say to the world, "yes I overcame challenges and it was hard but it didn't break me, and look at me now, I'm just like you - just a mom with a son".  But receiving his dwarfism diagnosis confirmed that I, and my family, would never be "normal". I could have hid my past from the world if I chose to but I can't hide this.  My son is a dwarf. A year later I still haven't sorted out all of my feelings related to that. I know that I'm afraid for what the future holds for him. I didn't want him to be different but he is. And will always be. We will need to figure out how that looks and what that means for him. But what I do know is that I love him. More than I ever even thought possible.  And I just want for him to be happy. There are so many unknowns when it comes to his (and our) future but I just want him to be happy in life.

Our lives changed forever on this day last year. And it changed forever on this day two years ago. But I'm glad to report that so far, today has been a rather ordinary day :-)


  1. Huge squishy ((hugs)). I can't imagine how long it will take for those memories to become more distant.
    It's so impossible to protect children from the world. But I think you're doing a great job of teaching Jack to be proud of who he is, which is a pretty special little guy!

  2. Hugs Chickie. I am glad today was an ordinary day for you. I hope this day holds more ordinary days for you in the future and hopefully some of the pain that is tied to this day begins to fade.

  3. Oh Chickin, I love you, J & P (and, ok, fine, your DH can get in on the group hug too!). I'm sorry that this day is so emotionally charged. I can only imagine what the PTSD must entail, and I send you all my love and prayers for healing and peace. I am glad to hear this year's "day" was uneventful. I hear you on your desire for things to be "normal," and I will continue to pray for you and your family.

  4. I wish you many "ordinary" days to come. Certainly being special in these ways is very very hard. Hugs and strength to you!