Who saw all this coming

So, in the interest of honesty and wearing my heart on my blogging sleeve here goes. (And I know I will probably be deemed a whiner for the hundredth time for this one but what can you do??? I am only human. :D) It took me almost four years to get pregnant. It required years of shots, tests, doctors, appointments, drugs, ultrasounds, miscarriage and more heartache that I could ever express. It took me two lost babies to bring my girls into the world. It took me one relatively tough pregnancy full of a lost baby, diabetes, 25 weeks of feeling like crap, choleostasis (my liver decided to crap out), blood pressure problems, finding out about Abby's issues and being told she would likely not make it and a whole host of other issues to become a Mom. Yet through it all I had my ace in the hole: MY KIDS WERE GONNA BE A BREEZE. The would be quiet and demure. Polite and smart. Never telling me no or talking back. Delusional? Definitely but after all that hard work to become a Mom I was gonna have it easy. Right???

Wrong! Ok, so I was full of sh#@ thinking ANY kids would be easy. That is a joke unto itself. There is no such thing as easy parenting... unless parenting goldfish counts. I still wonder what happened with the agreement I made with God that if I endured it all, and made it out the other side, He was going to go easy on me. But here I find myself with not one but TWO kids who have special needs. In a million years did I see it coming. I know that no parent does. You ask any parent of special needs kids and they will laugh at the idea that 2 or 4 or 6 years ago they would think their life would be filled with therapy, specialists, adaptive equipment, braces, dietary needs, procedures, tests, etc. and they will think back to their earlier ignorance and laugh. No one sees it coming.

And so I find myself the mother of two truly amazing little girls. I live in awe of them. Their fire. Their pure determination of will. Their unbelievable ability to persist despite the fact that both of their lives are so much harder than the average kid. They inspire me. They make me want to be a better person. But they also leave me, in the dark sleepless hours of night, asking the age old question. WHY? Not why me, but WHY THEM? Why do their lives have to be tougher. Why do I have to sit idly by and watch as simple acts of walking across the room or communicating what you want for lunch are so damn hard? Why do they have to struggle more than they should?

I don't allow myself to live with anger or regret. I only allow my brain to ask these questions after 2 am when sleep eludes me for hours. I won't let it become who they are or who I am. But some days it feels just a little bit unfair. I guess it really doesn't matter. We are all dealt a tough hand when it gets right down to it. No ones live it easy... even when it looks it from the outside. I just wish I could make it all easier for my kids. That I could take the tough stuff away and fill it in with trips to the park or playgroups instead of OT and PT.