The first time I really caught a glimpse of what it meant to fight for something was sitting in the Pediatrician’s office with my newborn son. I entered with joy and feeling like I conquered the world birthing a 9 lb bowling ball.
I left feeling fearful, helpless and stripped of motherly confidence.
It was not a good feeling. And yet, for some reason I didn’t speak up.
There is something that happens inside of us when our backs are against the wall and we feel totally unequipped to stand up and say “not my kid!” When our son was just a few days old I felt the weight of what it meant to care for another human outside of my own selfish desires that, up until then, took precedence.
My mind was beginning to process all the life altering decisions that I had to make that first day in the Doctor’s office. Do we do this? Do we choose that? Can we say “no”?
AM I capable?
It was not until two years down the road after that first visit to our pediatrician (we since have fired him happily) that I learned to find my voice. All the sickness, the diagnosis, the therapy, the struggles and the victories come with a price to pay, but my son was worth every moment of ridicule I received.
A parents we often feel leaning on the expertise of others is what we are supposed to, its what we are trained to do or ingrained in us from early on. But what if we were to sit in stillness just a little bit longer and listen to our intuition. What would it say and how would it begin to write our families story just a little bit more power and grace?
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