When I began the journey to adopt my children there were many things I never imagined: Telling nine year old Miracle Man to come down from 25 feet up a fir tree the day before major surgery; Explaining to 14 year old Mr. Sweetness and Light why he shouldn't climb on top of our roof at 10 p.m. to look at the stars (never mind how he got himself up there in the first place!); Learning about hair--how MM didn't like it--never mind that he was using the clippers to shave the dreaded stuff off the tops of his arms; Spending 1 1/2 hours curling Miss Sunshine's hair for photo day.
The past year has been full of all sorts of firsts: Mr. Sweetness and Light played sports for the first time: baseball, soccer, swimming. His first P.E. class. First trip to the beach. First time going to church. Miracle Man graduated from middle school and started high school. (And boy have I gotten short! Every time I turn around I'm getting shorter!) He drummed up his first job--on his own, might I add. I can't believe what a man he has started to become! He's showing initiative, working hard, growing into himself. Miss Sunshine sang in choir and joined track team. She's set her sails and looks toward the stars.
Last month, we attended a clinic for challenged athletes. SL learned how he could swim. Learning how he can as opposed to how he can not. That mindset became so important during his adoption. It is a good life lesson. Figure out how you can do something rather than looking for all the ways and reasons you can't. Over my life I have watched so many people do the latter rather than the former.
Tomorrow SL will get fitted with a rough prosthetic leg and begin the journey toward walking on two legs--something he could only dream of 18 months ago. The road ahead won't necessarily be easy. He will have to use muscles in ways he has never done before. Just the motion of walking will be so alien for him. There will be socks and liners and medications none of us has experience with yet. Eventually, there will be an operation--but the folks at our hospital want to get him on the road to walking before that occurs because it will give him a positive mindset when things are hard and not working just right. He will get to know what it is to walk before any other changes get made. What freedom he will experience by not having to have a crutch to lug around all the time! He dreams of new firsts now: riding a bicycle, driving, running in track. I've cautioned him that this first leg is a walking leg, not a running leg. "Why can't I have a running let?! I don't want a walking leg! I want to run! I hate walking legs!" How does one answer that? I did give an answer. It feels so much like holding him back--something I never want to do. We have to apply for a running leg. Prosthetics aren't cheap. A first prosthetic runs about $9,000 and subsequent ones could go up to $50,000. I will figure out how we can get him his running leg.
