Olive wants to crawl. She gets up on all fours and rocks. She pushes herself backwards and does the yoga move Downward Facing Dog. She rolls across the room. She shrieks when she wants to move forwards towards an enticing toy only to find herself inching further and further away. She reaches with both hands, her right and left working together to manipulate objects. She tracks us with her eyes across the room.
Nick and I watch her mesmerized.
"So this is what its like," we say.
Her development appears so effortless. No hours upon years of therapy to learn how to cross her mid-line, to bring her hands together and work as one. She moves so fluidly, so easily, without physical and occupational therapy. Without countless appointments with doctors and specialists, so many I can't name.
"This is what its like," we say.
And it is easier.
Despite her months of "colic", her continued sleeplessness, her intensity, the way she screams so powerfully just to make sure we're paying attention. Her habit of waking up 45 minutes after falling asleep. She just smiles and we forgive her.
I'm in awe of her development, her rubber band wrists and eight arm rolls. She grows while I write. Gaining ounces by the day, busting snaps open on her onsies, forcing me to weed through her drawers again and again. Too small, too small, too small, I say as I throw her clothes into a bag to be passed along to another baby girl smaller than Olive.
Elias fought for every ounce gained. He still does. We feed him cream and olive oil and butter and still he wears no fat.
Elias works so damn hard for everything and here his sister just grows.
Just like that.
Magic, it seems, and yet it's just her developing as healthy full-term babies do, without written goals or agendas.
I see Elias watch her, his bitter newborn-kicking-him-from-his-only-child-thrown-jealousy beginning to dissipate, and yet I know it won't be long before it flares up again. This time in the form of: Why can she do so easily what I work so hard to do?
It's coming. Just like I know Olive will be crawling soon. And god do I hope I can answer his questions in a way that preserves his smile. His spirit. His joy.
Hi Christy,
I just saw a video about this guy: http://www.attitudeisaltitude.com/ -- have you seen it before? I thought maybe it would help you think of something to say to Elias.
Just yesterday I had a conversation with my oldest where we were discussing the fact that her brother just "knows" math with apparently no effort. She has had to struggle with math, so she would certainly liked to have had his abilities. But she seems like she rolls with the fact that he does and she doesn't, maybe for a couple of reasons: she has things that she is great at and loves; she and her brother have a pretty good relationship. (She did not discover her passion for music until she was about 10yo, so don't panic if Elias doesn't know yet!)
Posted by: TA | 06/18/2010 at 02:01 AM
At 10, Toby has started to struggle with the fact that on some level CP limits him from some stuff. I see it as his own grieving period. It's really hard to see him go through it. Earlier, he saw CP as a difference not a limit... I spend a lot of time talking about how everyone needs help, and in our family everyone gets the help they need (he's extremely aplologetic about being alive practically - he thinks he's a burden - which yes totally breaks my heart. Part of it is just his personality; part the CP struggle).
I also just read this really cool article on reframing kids' weaknesses such that commonalities with everyone are highlighted - e.g., the kid who struggles academically is learning the art of practice which is a useful lifelong skill for everyone. Worth a read: http://www.pbs.org/parents/supersisters/archives/2010/06/finding-merit-in-weakness.html
Posted by: Sara | 06/18/2010 at 02:22 AM
Maybe you will be surprised (once again) by Elias. He may show pride in his sister, rather than jealousy... especially knowing how hard it all can be. Fingers crossed.
Posted by: Erin | 06/18/2010 at 04:08 AM
I'm with Erin. And I have confidence that you will handle it with grace and compassion when/if it does come.
Posted by: niksmom | 06/18/2010 at 04:29 AM
What a terrific picture of Elias!
Posted by: Ginna | 06/18/2010 at 01:05 PM
This post brought tears to my eyes.. I knew where you were going from the very beginning. I knew because I work with kids with CP every day.. I LOVE kids with CP every day, actually, I do this in large part because of your blog. I have worked with kids with autism for the last 10 years and recently I transfered to a school that specialize in physical and cognitive disabilities. I wanted a change. I still tutor kids with autism, but I've learned a lot about the physical challenges.. and wow oh wow a "typically" developing child blows my mind. It's nothing short of a miracle. When you know what "midline" means, when you know how hard it is to transfer items from hand to hand, to use both sides of the body together, you realize the miracles unfolding in front of you.. enjoy it! I have no doubt your spirit and love for Elias will help sustain him and you as you both answer the difficult questions ahead. As someone who's followed your pregnancy from the beginning, here's a toast to Olive... thriving, healthy and now mobile!!!
Posted by: Emily | 06/18/2010 at 03:00 PM
Olive is gorgeous, as is Elias' smile. I cannot imagine what those growth spurts and cognitive changes mean to you, but i do watch and rejoice with you as both of your children grow at their own speed.
Posted by: JenniferB | 06/19/2010 at 08:47 PM
Elias and Olive are both wonderful kids. They'll hit the inevitable bumpy spots in life -- we all do. But they have the loving, understanding parents and caregivers who give them a head start in handling those things with grace. Yay for both of them!
Posted by: Linda | 06/21/2010 at 04:11 PM
Late reply here from me though I loved the links, your comments, and as always your support and your understanding.
Posted by: Christy | 06/26/2010 at 08:42 AM