What I thought I knew

Among conversations I always somehow get myself involved in is parenting. I would be in conversations like 'What kind of company will you put your child in?', 'Will you home school, private school or public school?', 'what type of sport will you teach your child?'.

Before Mango was born I knew exactly what type of mother I was going to be. I didn't know where my children were going to end up but I certainly knew what lessons I wanted to teach them and how I would teach them. I had heard (to my limited knowledge) everything I thought I needed to know about parenting and how the game works. So, by the time I was pregnant with mango I already knew how things were going to play out and how I would deal with EVERYTHING and anything. I had all the lists numbered down in my USB that I call Brain.  

Typical child

Teaching the word 'no' - check

Think before you speak - check

How to open mouth - check

How to chew - check

Dealing with tantrums - check

Dealing with bad habits - check

Being kind - check

To be loving - check

To be useful - check

How to help/increase vocab - check

How to speak - check

How to crawl - check

How to share - check

To look at someone when they are talking to you - check

To sit quietly - check

and well.... the list goes on. 

Except as you know now that this is not the way things played out. When mango was born all I had to throw the entire USB out the window and start fresh with what pretty much looked like this.

To teach Mango:

1. Teach Mango how to look at Mama and/or follow Mama from side to side - 6 months later.... check! YAY!!

DOING THE HAPPY DANCE

2. Teach him how to open his thumbs - 9 months on.... still getting there BUT when he does, I'll be doing the chicken dance. (no idea why) 

It suddenly isn't about what school I would put him in. It wasn't about what type of atmosphere I wanted him to be involved in (ofcourse I would put him in a good environment but that wasn't/isn't important right now, that time would come just not right now), it wasn't about the type of sport I pictured him playing. It was about would be ever be ABLE to go to school? Would he be able to see? Can he hear? Can he use his limbs? Wait. Hold on. Does he even know he has limbs? Will he one day be like what I had pictured? The worst of all questions I think about that every parents with special needs thinks even if they don't want to is 'How long will my baby live for..' 

I have a son with special needs. I do. He needs me. 24 hours a day 7 days a week right now and maybe for the rest of his life. It doesn't matter. As long as my heart beats I will look after him with what ever I have left. 

I have come to that stage where I can speak out and not feel that lump in my throat that my beautiful son, who is a miracle that he is even with us today is special needs. He is wonderful. He makes my world spin. He makes my day. To you he might just be another boy but to me - he is MY boy. My Mango.