Saturday, 14 July 2012

Last night after the kids were all tucked in to bed dreaming (ie passed out in the living room watching movies), I walked to the mailbox. I took a deep breath of fresh air, gazed up at that great big universe of twinkling and shooting stars, thanked God for our farm and that I survived another game night, freaked out a little when the cats jumped out at me in the dark, only their little devil eyes gleaming.

In the mailbox was the final report from the ENT. So many times, the in person visit/results tell us one thing and then the report comes and it is totally different.

But here it was in writing. Zap has perfect hearing. No more fluid. Cleared from needing follow up. No surgery required.

So grateful. Not that I was scared or worried about him being deaf, he would have rocked that out of the park and we would have learned right along with him. This however has been a test of faith, of prayer, and a demonstration of how God works in mysterious and wonderful ways. He put in our lives the right people, the right healers, and the open hearts to try non traditional medicine. Now my baby doesn't need surgery.

For the record, I think that the tinctures we have been using for various ailments have made a HUGE impact in our health, but when I take ground ivy tincture, even my ears start draining. I was skeptical, but two of my good friends and people I really trust recommended it. I am so glad. Zap asks for it and points to his ears. It doesn't taste great so I can't help but think he understands what it is for.

Which leads me to another parents of special needs children, dependent on the medical community for the health and well being of our children, but also as people who believe that natural remedies and good nutrition can be the best even better medicine, we are like rocks in a hard place. The balance is a hard one, and everyone walks that precipice with different shoes- some dance on by, some shiver with anxiety, some jump, some just curl up in  a little ball and beg to go home. We are all there though, at that same horizon, that same scary hard to explain place- feeling alone and isolated and misunderstood. All of us, the kind nurturing mothers, the fearsome bear mamas, the bitches, the fragile, and all of them are all of us. Some of us are hard for the nurses to deal with and some of the nurses are hard to deal with. It is a complicated dance, but really we are not alone.

Facebook has connected me with families all over the world who have 22q children, with published authors with the dx, with expecting mothers full of fear, with families whose children are near death, thriving, struggling, all of that. Life is messy and wonderful and short. One of the hardest things I have learned is that I can reach out, cry, ask, and help. Just when I was feeling the most alone, the world got a little bit bigger and more loving.

FB has also connected me with more families near me with special needs children or deepened casual relationships I already had.

This last 18 months has been interesting.

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A blog about farming, unschooling, feminism, 22q deletion syndrome, cooking real food, homesteading, permaculture, and motherhood.