(delayed in posting...this was written in February)
"We walk by faith, not by sight." 2 Corinthians 5:7
From the beginning, we've reluctantly held our breath regarding Jude walking and talking. These have been the two most significant obstacles that we've hoped for our little guy to accomplish.
In October we began a twelve week break from therapy so I could heal from Guinevere's birth enough to resume lugging this hefty boy to and from his appointments. It's often physically consuming to tote a boy who doesn't offer much help, and the third row back in our family van isn't the most convenient place for a car seat. The "time out" also proved a welcome relief emotionally from this "issue" and helped me to gain a new perspective for the days ahead.
His therapist, Ms. Nicole, hasn't missed a beat as she has faithfully and tirelessly worked with him this past year. Her selfless knowledge and skill in teaching us what to work on and how to acquire the optimal results have been such a necessary tool in this process.
Walking may soon become a physical relief for Jude. His knuckles have sores from crawling on his fist and he has a nasty blister under the pointer finger of "righty." But he's delighted about his new undertaking. This morning upon wakening, one of our littles cheerfully announced he was strolling from one side of his crib to the other, clapping for himself all the way!
Besides his brilliant aptitude, he's a clever little fellow. He's becoming quite the signer, using sign language as his most reliable form of communication since we've yet to cross over the "language hurdle."
The best day of Jude's life happened several weeks ago when frigid January unexpectedly delivered a 75 degree day. We packed up his new Radio Flyer tricycle and headed straight to the park. We strapped him in, adjusted the tray, and made use of the grown-up handle by pushing him around the track for a good part of the morning. Then we sat him in the toddler swing and a little bit of heaven shined through those blue-gray eyes. He jabbered about it all the way home.
Because of the history of tubes down his throat, he still chokes quite often. We've performed the Heimlich on Jude more than all the seven others combined. Still, the smallest of bites become easily lodged. This keeps me a bit on edge with each meal.
Guinevere is beginning to recognize her big brother. She smiles with delight when he is near. He's exceptionally gentle, often patting her dark hair with "lefty." It's sweet beyond words to witness the budding of faithful friends between siblings. This, by far, has been the most joyous thing to witness in all our children.
Over the last several months during the late night hours spent with a newborn, I've often pondered what the continual "letting go" of our lives and our rights has rendered. It's become a far greater blessing, a greater purpose than I could have ever anticipated. Around every corner, amidst the hard stuff, we continue to find a new level of joy, of purpose, as our faith is increased by His goodness. It most certainly isn't about losing anything. Instead, through the voyage, I feel as though I'm gaining everything. ~Jen