Truth, Hindsight, and Being a Special Needs Mama

Ok first, friends, I have less than 20 minutes to write this post as I’ve been working on something else today, which I am excited to announce here and promise to do so soon. I say this because holycrapwow, I didn’t have time to do Finish the Sentence this week the way that I wanted to. I thought about it and had high hopes for it. Sometimes though, life gets in the way. Thank you for coming anyway. 

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“Please grow…” I whispered in the dark. My baby was so tiny. His thighs were smaller than my wrists. He was born with a healthy height and weight, but his percentages were off. While his height was in the 90th percentile, his weight was at 18%. His tiny tummy was more muscular than pudgy. He had baby abs. He was perfect. 

Truth, Hindsight, and Being a Special Needs Mama

“I want abs!” he says, sucking in his little boy gut while flexing in front of the mirror. “I want to be mega-strong.” His abs are not really abs; he’s six. Since infancy, his weight has caught up to his height, and I no longer whisper “grow.” I still whisper “please?” in the dark though. Maybe all mamas do. 

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People say that hindsight is 20/20. “If I’d only have known…” I think back to moments in my life that I regret and the choices I’ve made. I wonder whether those choices would be different had I’d known the truth. As a not old-old, but not-so-young people, my friends and I joke about revisiting youth, knowing what we know today. 

I’ve wished for do-overs. Imagine junior high and high school, knowing what we know today. Those awkward years would’ve been a whole lot easier. I’d stick with my fashion decisions though because the 80’s were awesome. 

Mostly though, I don’t wish for do-overs any longer. 

Had I not walked away from the bad boy, I would not have found the good ones. 

Had I known that Chiefs death would leave a 90-pound shepherd-shaped hole in my life, I still would have chosen the years that I had with him.

If I hadn’t married my first husband, I’d never have known his family. I’m better for loving his family. For loving him. For knowing what I know now because of that experience.

Had I known the truth about my son’s developmental and speech delays earlier, would I have done anything different? How much does each moment and potential regret define now-me? In some ways, I think I always knew. After all, there’s a reason I devoured every book available on developmental delays, speech delays, and autism when my son was an infant. Maybe though, we came into knowing as we were ready to. After all, he started speaking. He went to the right preschool for him. We found grace in kindergarten. And today, he wants abs.

Life has turning points, and I know that we look back on them with wonder and occasional regret. I also know that each choices make us who we are. I cherish that. Without them, I may not have this boy. This life.

Had I known the truth about Apple stock back then though…

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This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post with the sentence”Once I knew the truth…”
Your hosts are
Me, as always (Kristi from FindingNinee.com) and this week’s sentence thinker-upper, Leah from Little Miss Wordy