I originally posted this on my Instagram feed. You can find the original poster below. After sitting and thinking about it, I felt it deserved a blog post here on the site as well.
As I was mowing, I took this photo. I hadn’t realized my wife had come outside with our son. I turned and looked up to see him sitting there on a blanket with his bubble machine. His mom was a couple of dozen yards away from him, picking up fallen tree limbs, helping make my life easier.
When I saw him, I couldn’t help but stop and take this photo. A photo showing myself mowing, as my son sits and enjoys the afternoon sun. It just struck me so hard at that moment, that this time last year I had basically made myself give up on ever seeing something so simple.
Something so small and insignificant a thing to most carries the weight of the world for me.
My son is sitting there in front of me, under his own strength and power. Uses that same strength and power to put the required pressure needed to activate his bubble machine, so he can watch the breeze blow away his bubbles.
It is one of the few things he has been able to develop and do independently, and it’s truly just amazing to me.
And all of this is new! The ability to sit for extended periods of time. The ability and learning cause and effect with his button. We’re talking about all recent developments within the past few weeks. It’s incredible!
It is all I was thinking about for the next hour as I finished mowing our yard. (His Mom soon after this photo, picked him up and took him int out of the way of the noise and blowing grass)
All that thinking lead to the below post. I realize I’ve not shared enough of the joys and accomplishments recently. I’ve selfishly been keeping them to myself. However, I’m proud of my son, and it’s moments like this that I should share with the world.
The original post:
This might seem like a strange, random photo. Especially one to post on social media.
It’s not the photo itself but the view it represents why I share.
I’m not exaggerating or being dramatic when I say this time last year I had accepted that this view was an impossibility.
The view of my son enjoying the outside and the sun while I’m out mowing or doing yard work.
The view of my son just sitting and playing out in the yard felt like a pipe dream.
My son, who at times must feel isolated because he can’t crawl or play as a typical baby boy would.
My son who puts in the work nearly daily to be able to do things that we as parents and adults take for granted.
My son, sitting there in front of me under his own strength and power. On his blanket, playing with his bubbles thanks to an adaptive button.
Sometimes just the emotional weight can hit and bring a tear to my eye.
Our path is not like others. We’ve gone through multiple castings, hip surgery, and countless hours of therapy for moments like this. Moments HG can enjoy on his own.
The things HG can do. The things my wife and I go through. (The things my wife does on the daily!) Most people will dismiss or write it off.
And that’s ok.
Because of moments like this.
These random moments that remind me where we’ve come, the distances we’ve traveled (literally and metaphorically), and all we’ve endured in just the last 13 months have been all for him.
For him to have moments like this.