An epiphany!

I had a really hard realization hit me Saturday night. We were at Trent's parents house for his Grandma's 91st birthday party. One of Trent's cousins was saying how cute Whitley was and I said, " Yeah, she's fun. I have really enjoyed her." Trent's sister said, "Well, yeah, after Tag you'd enjoy anything." I said, "It was really stressful." But it really got me thinking. My poor son has only known his mother to be stressed. He had respiratory problems from the start and because of that he was too weak to nurse. He kept having these episodes where his heart would race. I would try and tell the doctor, but either he didn't believe me or didn't think it was a big deal. He'd give me some medicine and send us on our way. We finally ended up in the ER and after numerous tests, Tag and I were on a plane to Phoenix because there was something wrong with his heart. He was so upset and easily aggitated when we got down there. I would try and talk to him and rub his little head, but nothing I did seemed to help so they had to sedate him. It killed me as a mother to know that I could not comfort my son. I thought to myself " he doesn't even really know who I am"

Tag had several tests and we had to wait several days before the doctors could tell us what was going on. Once they finally figured it out , it was almost too much to take. Not only were there several things going on with his heart, they did a genetic test and found out he had partial trisomy 18 (the same thing Trent's sisters have). We had not expected that. The doctors then had the gall to ask us if we wanted them to do anything for him. That's when I stood up and said, "He's not going to be completley incapacitated! He's going to be able to run and play! Yes, we want you to do all you can for him!" They never questioned us again. They fixed his aorta which was pinched off and left the hole in his heart, hoping it would close on it's own. He still has a hole in his heart but it has healed up enough now that his doctor doesn't think it will ever be a problem. So his first year of life was filled with doctors and tests and lots of hospitals. It seemed he would just get over something and get something else. It was a neverending battle. It didn't matter if I kept him home away from everyone, or took him out once in awhile. So, his second year he had his G-tube put in. That cut the hospital visits down, but tube feeding is an experience all its own. He hated and we hated it. His third year he got his adenoids out and tubes in his ears. He also got glasses. He has been healthy and hospital free for a long time now and we took his tube out the beginning of this year. That has been such a blessing!

So, to make a long story short, Taggert probably sees me with Whitley and says, "What the crap, I got jipped! She never fed me like that. She never looked at me like that." So he voices his disapproval by pushing her down when she is sitting up playing or he whacks her in the head with a car or book or something. When I really stop and think about it, I can't really blame him. He did get jipped. I was always so worried about him that I couldn't enjoy him. It was just one thing after another, one specialist after another. One little man should not have to endure so much and the sad thing is, is that it is probably his parents who needed to learn a lesson, certainly not him. And I am still learning! He can be so loving and funny and cute. He is a special kid with a lot of love to give. Maybe when he is pushing his cousins down he is trying to tell me that I need to be more gentle, or when he screams for no reason at all, he is telling me that I need to speak a bit softer. I don't know, but I love him and we'll get this all figured out, and hopefully he'll figure out what the toilet is used for before he goes to Kindergarten next year. I don't think his teacher will approve of him squatting in the corner pooping(: