As I held little Mia’s hands, I watched her wobble around the playground, and honestly, it was a mix of joy and heartache. She was brimming with more confidence than I’d ever seen, yet walking independently still felt like a distant dream. At almost 2 ½ years old, it’s hard not to wish she could run to her toys, join the other toddlers at the swings, or climb the rock wall without needing one of us to give her a boost.
Navigating the playground is a workout for my husband and me. We squeeze ourselves through tight spots just to help her explore the equipment. I can’t help but envy those parents lounging on the sidelines, watching their kids play while scrolling through their phones. The freedom of having a child with full mobility is tantalizing, always just out of reach for us.
For me and my husband, this feels like a heavy weight we carry daily. But for Mia, she’s just having a blast, blissfully unaware of her challenges. Her bright smile reminds us not to worry too much. Born premature, she struggled with low muscle tone and other physical hurdles that impact her independence. Diagnosed with arthrogryposis multiplex congenita, many of her joints were stiff at birth. It’s like having a 10-pound blanket holding her down, and every day, she fights against it.
We were reassured from day one in the NICU that she would be okay, that her joints would eventually unfold. Despite the odds, we committed ourselves to her recovery. With guidance from physical therapists, we diligently worked on her stretches, even when the nurses couldn’t find the time. Our dedication meant that every diaper change was an opportunity for therapy. We often found ourselves exhausted, sneaking in those last stretches before collapsing into bed.
As her therapy evolved, we had to focus on her arms while she was in full-leg casts for her clubfoot. It was heartbreaking to see her legs so weak after being immobilized, but we were determined to show her how to use them. Every morning and evening, we worked with her, trying to encourage movement and strength.
Now, as we support her nightly, it feels like we’re in the trenches. Her growth is often slow and hidden behind the hard work we put in. At nearly 25 pounds, we need to stay in shape ourselves to keep up with her therapy sessions and the physical demands of her equipment scattered around our living room.
Others see her progress and are amazed by how she takes steps, bears weight, and navigates furniture like a little pro. But for us, the constant grind of therapy can be draining. We bury our worries about her catching up to her peers and put on brave smiles for her sake. We want her to enjoy a joyful childhood without feeling the weight of our concerns.
Sometimes, we have to remind ourselves to step back and appreciate her little victories. At the playground, she surprised us by letting go of our hands, wobbling left and right but managing to find her balance. Without prompting, she asked to be set down, eager to join the other kids running to the slide. Her determination was nothing short of inspiring.
In the grand scheme of things, Mia is thriving, even if it doesn’t always feel like it. Her journey is a testament to resilience. As we navigate this path, we also recognize the importance of resources available to us. If you’re exploring this journey too, consider checking out Make a Mom’s guide on home insemination kits, or dive into CCRM IVF’s blog for invaluable insights.
In summary, every step Mia takes is filled with hope, joy, and a little struggle. We’re dedicated to helping her thrive, ensuring she experiences the beautiful childhood she deserves, even amidst our challenges.
Leave a Reply