There used to be a toy store called Bozo’s Big Top. Yeah, like the TV clown. They had really cute doll clothes. I know this because we bought the outfit there that our son wore home from the hospital.
In 1977, stores didn’t carry clothes or diapers for preemies. Thank goodness I have an aunt who is a amazing seamstress. With a pattern in hand, she made some doll sleepers for our little man. Newborn diapers cut in half worked great!
To paint a picture of how small our son was, I wore a size 4 shoe at the time and he fit in my shoe box. He was too tiny to sleep in the cradle we had, and his head was so small it slid right through the side slats, so we took out a dresser drawer and made him a temporary bed. He was 4 pounds when we brought him home.
Another thing popular in 1977 was handing out cigars to announce a new baby. My husband had bought some of those and was anxious to hand them out. He gave one to one of the doctors who delivered our son. I say one of the doctors because two were called in. One doctor was just more caring than the other. When Gary handed the doctor the cigar, he just took it and put it in his pocket. After the 4th day, the doc came in to tell us our son had a long ways to go, but was out of the woods. He pulled out the cigar and said, “Now I can smoke this!”
When I held Gary, Jr., his head fit in the palm of my hand and his feet barely touched the inside of my elbow. He looked so tiny and fragile, but the years have shown us what a fighter he was and still is, and he was anything but fragile!
Gary was a few months old before we were told he had cerebral palsy. I had kept telling the doctor that his feet just didn’t seem right. It was my persistence that led us to a neurologist and a diagnosis. We just just took the news and dealt with it. This was our miracle baby and we would be okay.
The years that followed were full of challenges and trials, but also triumphs. We still watched for the first words, crawling, the first steps. They just came at different times and in different degrees than what we had experienced with our first child. Because of the trials that came before the triumphs, each victory was celebrated as a major accomplishment. Each accomplishment was a blessing.
Our faith was tested I’m sure more than I even realized, but we never asked, “why us”. We just asked for the strength, patience, wisdom to give our son a fighting chance. We made a promise that we would teach him to not let his disability define who he was. He was disciplined as needed like our other child. He was included in any and all family activities.
I remember once being at the skating rink for a birthday party. My son had it in his mind that he wanted to be on that skate floor. I knew he wouldn’t be able to skate, but I didn’t tell him that. We strapped on some skates, locked his so it might be easier for him. We only made it a few steps until he and I both were laying on the floor, laughing at what a spectacle we must have made. He didn’t ask to skate anymore.
Gary is the child who always tells you that you look nice when you are sure you probably don’t. He is the child who holds the door open for you, loves to gives hugs, and wants to please.
Doctors told us Gary would probably never talk, but they were wrong. They were wrong, too, when they said he would never walk. He attended two proms, special olympics, and walked across the stage unassisted to get his high school diploma. He also has a heart of gold. His dad was his best friend and losing him was hard. If you meet Gary for the first time, he will probably tell you “my dad died”. His heart of gold was broken that day and it’s obvious it’s always on his mind. But, I believe he feels he needs to pick up where his dad left off and take care of me in his way. He makes my heart smile.
I DIDN’T GIVE UP! 