I don’t go backward on this blog very often – that is I don’t read old posts about where I hoped C would be by now. I think if I told myself last spring that by this time C would not be sitting yet, would not be crawling yet, and would not yet be able to hold a bottle, last-spring me would have been very disappointed. And yet, this-year me is much more at peace with it all.
For one thing, that’s because I know the things she can do. Like she can talk! Yesterday, it was the sweet sound of “Mama, mama” in the morning. There’s also baba (bottle), go, uppa (pick me up), no, mo’ (more), huggy (hug), and a handful of others. I mean, a year ago, yes I hoped she’d be sitting but I also didn’t know if she’d be verbal. As it turns out, by the “standardized test” she is more or less on track for language. One thing I should admit, is that I choose to believe standardized tests mainly when they are favourable. When they are not, I dismiss them. She is a bit behind because she has less coordination over her mouth, but she said enough, or nodded enough, or looked at the right picture in the book enough, that they scored her as typical both receptively and expressively.
CP is a condition with a huge spectrum from “independent in every way” to “dependent in every way.” Last year we did not know where on that spectrum she would be. Last-year-me thought that was the cruel thing about a CP, because you had NO idea. But this-year-me thinks that maybe it’s a good thing because you have a little time to come to terms with it all. We still don’t exactly know where on the spectrum she is, but it seems to matter less.
One interesting thing about her language, which is different from EVERY other toddler I know, is that she is far more likely to say “yes” (she nods) than “no.” But I guess no one says “no” to C. No one says “NO! Don’t touch that oven door!” or “NO! Don’t wear the cereal bowl full of milk as a hat” or “No… you can’t have the cellphone.” B hears “No” dozens of times a day, and she reciprocates. C rarely hears it, and when she does her lip buckles because she’s so astonished you’d ever refuse her.
And since I talk about her talking, here she is. If you told me last week that she’d be stringing syllables together like this, I wouldnt have believed it.
I’m sitting here typing through my tears. I’m so happy about her language skills! I knew she’d be a talker when I chatted with her last. Nothing gets past that kid…. Pass my love to her, will you?
I love reading about C; She and Asher are so similar in how they present (including in personality). I felt, and at times still do, the same way about CP and the not knowing. Had I known Asher wasn’t going to be sitting at 2 – or at 5 for that matter – I wouldn’t have been able to take it. But when you’re “there” it’s so much easier because you’ve gained acceptance with every day that passes. You’re right that some of the cruelty associated with not knowing about your child’s prognosis, is in other ways a blessing. One thing I can promise without doubt is that every thing C continues to accomplish will continue to blow your mind, much more so than make you sad about the things that aren’t quite the way you’d expected 🙂