So before bed we went into his room and I went through the whole routine and Seth laughed and then shook his head at the puppy and said, clear as a bell "Oh, Puppy..."
These are little things, but huge to me, because it means Seth is getting a little more flexible, a little more bendy, about going with the flow instead of controlling every moment. Before, even if he thought my little routine was funny, he would never have mimicked it. He would never have said "Hi, baby" because I was saying it. He just wouldn't, because it wasn't his idea. I know it's all a control issue because when he does talk it's well formed and clear, especially considering how little experimenting and practicing he does. He's not trying the words out to see if they're right, he's just finally deigning to say them to me when I want him to.
And for the poster who heard him say "Airplane" in the video...yes, he did! Hah. It was definitely the word airplane uttered in a very high pitched shriek. The jury's still out as to whether he was saying "outside" or "Go see it!" as he ran for the door. He has a love affair with airplanes...it's the one toy he will consistently voice, and our whole lives go on pause when he sees one. Who knows why, but he's been a big airplane fan since he was a really tiny baby.
Anyway, I know I've been posting non-stop about Seth lately. Don't worry, the other kids are all present and accounted for. Happy, on the way to be healthy, just fine. They're far from being ignored. It's just when Seth has these bursts of development I am anxious to record them. There is still a part of me that is afraid he will never do the things his brother and sisters do, and I'm filled with so much excitement and joy when he takes a step forward that I gush a little.
I'll never forget the day I held him, six weeks old, in my arms, and I was told he couldn't hear. So many of my hopes and dreams went out the window in that instant, and while we have been given so much hope with his cochlear implants, I still feel, some days, like I am yanking those dreams for his life back through that window, one hand over the other. I know what kids with CI's are capable of, I am lucky enough to have friends who are completely normal, functional adults who happen to be bilateral implant users, so I know that it's possible for Seth, too. But the road to get there is long, and on bad days, I tend to lose my grip on those dreams.
And that's a really long explanation for why I've been so fixated on Seth, lately. Because I am head over heels in love with my son when he is difficult and whiny and clingy and refuses to say a word or leave my side. My love for him doesn't waver. But I worry. And when he is this way, happy and willing to interact and talk and be a kid, I worry less. And it's easier to picture him going to school and having friends and getting a job to pay me back for all of things he colored on with permanent marker as a toddler.
And I want to share him with all of you, who have helped him get here, which is part of the way to there. Don't think I will ever forget that if it wasn't for so many people and so many things falling into just the right place, he wouldn't have received his surgery when he did. This blog is precious to me for many reasons, but the way everyone came alongside Seth as we made sense of his hearing loss and headed into surgery changed my viewpoint on people. The people of this blog and our community as well as many other people in communities around the world did a lot of little things for Seth that resulted in something huge...his hearing. It's Acts all over again, it's what the first church was and what I wish more churches were today. So thanks.
And I'm obviously hormonal and emotional tonight. Wow! Hah.
