I didn't share at the time but about 6 weeks ago I woke up shortly after falling asleep overwhelmed by the intense energy in my legs. I don't know any other way to describe it. But it was almost unbearable. As I teetered on the edge of a full blown panic attack, I begged my Husband to move my legs. Just make them move! It was the only way I knew to try and dissipate the energy. I wept uncontrollably. I slowly began to realize I could feel my legs again, their presence...the weight of them. And it wasn't until then, when I could feel them again, that I truly mourned the loss of them. It got hard. Because when you can't feel your legs, when you don't know that they're there, you don't subconsciously try to move them. But once you feel them again, once your brain knows they're there, you find yourself trying to move them and it's a new shock each time the reality sets in. Dead weight. Stuck in concrete. Nothing. It was psychologically mind warping the first few days. It was honestly the first time I felt paralyzed or dealt with the reality of "I cannot move!" Which probably seems crazy since I'd already been injured a couple months by this time. But the difference was staggering.
Obviously being able to feel my legs again is a sign of healing and much better health wise, as I'm less likely to get pressure sores or wounds if I can feel when something is wrong. But, like with this new leg movement, I was scared to say it out loud. I was scared to read too much into it. I was scared to believe in where it may lead, even more scared that it would lead no where.
I've never prayed to walk again...because what if I don't? I don't want to make the measure of my healing, of being whole, based on walking again. Yet, I weep with the thought of being able to chase my babies through green grass again, a blue sky above. To go for a run. To kneel on the ground and pull the weeds taking over my flower beds. But I spend much, much more time bathed in intense gratitude. I'm alive. I'm here watching my babies grow up. I can't jump out of bed in the mornings and get my boys ready for school but now I get to sit with each of them for an hour each morning, having a little breakfast in bed party. We sing and read books and practice their new words and signs while they eat. Having a hour to sit and hold my babies each morning, being able to give them 100% of my attention? It's an amazing gift. And they love practicing selfies!
I'm working more now than ever and am so grateful for the support, kindness and patience my client has shown me during my recovery. It's not every day your dream project falls into your lap and it's certainly not everyday those involved treat you with such compassion and continue to have such faith in your work. That being said, I don't want to write another 30 page grant for a wee little while! But there is certainly a blessing to be found in having the time to dedicate to working and to continuing to be involved with our Down Syndrome Association. I love what I do and I'm finding great satisfaction and reward in being able to still do it. New projects are popping up and I'm trying very hard to make sure I don't over commit. I still have a long way to go before I have the stamina I once had. And there's a blessing in that even. I've never done a good job of taking care of myself, but now? Now I don't have a choice but to, to be aware and genuinely put my health high on the priority list.
There's so much more that's been going on with us that I'm excited to share over the next few days. But I want mostly to again thank you all. Every day something happens or someone reaches out in such a way that leaves me deeply, deeply moved by the good that there is in this world. I feel so blessed to be witness to the kindness, generosity, friendship and love shown by you all. Your love and your prayers are palpable and I've have spent these last 4 months feeling wrapped peacefully in that love. I'll never be able to thank you enough for that.