Tuesday, August 2, 2011

You Know What Assume Means!

Being proven wrong. Not something people typically enjoy, but as one of the many Moms of a child with Spina Bifida, having my son exceed expectations in the simplest of things can be joyous. Many of the Moms I've met will post a picture of their child with the caption, "Take that, Spina Bifida!" Seeing these pictures makes my heart sing, fills me with hope, and allows me to celebrate with their family.

There have been so many instances where people have been wrong in their expectations with Kemper. I relish in these because he's busted through so many assumptions and limitations that people have projected on him based on the term Spina Bifida without considering him as an individual.

The perinatologist who told us about his diagnosis said he'd probably be paralyzed and have some mental retardation. She said his lesion was affecting 5-6 vertebrae and was very large. This is not true for my son.  He has movement and sensation in his legs and feet, he's right on track developmentally, and the lesion was less than a centimeter in diameter.

Nurses in the NICU told us that he would always "ooze" poop because of the nerve damage. That he would always vomit because of neurological issues. They didn't take into consideration the antibiotics he was on that loosened his stools or that he could have reflux, which he does.  When he was admitted to the hospital locally due to a GI virus, the nurse thought she was in the wrong room because he was kicking. She assumed he wouldn't be able to move his legs. 

His most recent accomplishment that says, "TAKE THAT!" He can bear weight on his legs.

Talk about having your heart soar. We were on cloud nine for quite some time on that one! 

He teaches me about making assumptions too.  We took him to the doctor a couple of days ago and I undressed him so he could be weighed.  I was telling the doctor how terribly constipated he was and as if on que, he pooped.  On their wall.  I still don't know how the poop ended up on the wall, but I was mortified. After we got him cleaned up I picked him up, he was still naked, and I was talking to the doctor about how he doesn't pee on his own anymore.  That's when he peed down the front of my dress. Talk about a flair for the dramatic to prove me wrong and teach me about making assumptions!

Every kid with this diagnosis is a kid. An individual. We take something out of them when we assume their capabilities. The only thing I really know for certain is that Kemper has my heart on a string.