Days Like This

There are many days that go by lately that are very ordinary.  I don't think about much except for how to get the laundry done, and the house picked up, and food down Hudson.  And on these very ordinary days I forget about the fact that my son has Spina Bifida.  I forget the months he spent in the NICU not so long ago.  And I forget about how far he has come since he came home screaming every time we moved him.

Then there are days when I can think of nothing except the fact that Hudson has Spina Bifida.  These are the days that I see drops of water on his head and think that it is spinal fluid leaking out of his incision site.  Not really an ordinary response for most moms, but for me, it is something I experienced many times with him in the NICU, and apparently still worry about.  On these days I get frustrated that Hudson is not even close to walking.  I watch his little legs fight and struggle and wonder if he will ever learn to stand.  I dream about the day he is able to run and play in our backyard and I doubt that it will ever come true.  And on these days, I drop to my knees and pray that God will heal my son.  I pray that Hudson will be able to stand, and walk, and run.  That our efforts every day to strengthen his body will come to fruition.

And then there are days like today.  Days when I remember how far he has come in his first year of life.  Days where he has the strength to sit up on his knees for the first time without having to hold on to anything to help him get there.  Days where he crawls up to me, lifts his hands high in the air, sits up on his own, and shouts for joy.

And on days like this I am humbled and brought to tears.  Because this is who my son is.  He is a fighter.  And he continues to press on and celebrate his victories, no matter how small they may seem to anyone else.  He doesn't give up.  He doesn't doubt.  He just keeps moving forward one baby step at a time.  On days like this I realize that nothing else matters.  It doesn't matter whether he will stand, or walk, or run.  It just doesn't matter.  Because that's not what makes him who he is.  On days like this I enjoy my son for exactly who God created him to be.  Nothing more and nothing less.  And I celebrate that.  With him.

It's on days like today, that I drop to my knees and pray for nothing else but more days like this.