Sunday, June 17, 2012

Nuthin' But Blessings - a story about my son

I'm pretty sure I've written before about the health challenges my son endured in the first handful-or-so years of his life.  To sum it up, he was born with a condition called eosinophilic gastroenteritis and a secondary diagnosis of 'failure to thrive'.  He's 12 now, quickly approaching next month.

My husband and I are still wondering how it is that we have 2 teenagers.  My husband is old enough for this, but not me.

(we're only 2yrs apart in age)

In any case, my son is on the small side of the coin.  Like 5th percentile on the dreaded growth chart.  And he's got a bit of a complex over it.  For example, when the dr sent him for labs in order to verify all systems were functioning properly?  He was angry to hear that the results came up 'within normal limits'.  He said, "I was hoping there was a pill for this or something!"

We tell him the same thing every time:  "Just you wait.  With feet that size, you're going to grow up to be a big man!"  To which he always says, "yeah right..."

Last night, we went to a double A baseball game and sat where the opposing pitchers were warming up.  Two of the players were so tall that their heads were above ours...and we were in the stands.  My son was watching them and, because we have that sort of relationship where we know one another's thoughts without speaking, I knew his wheels were turning.  I had said to him, "you could be as tall as that guy someday, bud!" which he said, "YEAH RIGHT!  I'll never be that tall.  If I even grow at all!"

I put my arm around him and turned my focus back to the game.  All of the sudden, something came toward me from the side.  It was a baseball...from the pitcher...tossed to my son...prior to his taking the mound.  By the size of the player's smile, I reasoned that he heard our discussion.  By the size of my son's eyes, I concluded that he was in a state of shock :-)

After the game, my husband took my son to the visiting team's dugout, where he stood before a 7'1" pitcher, asking him if the 6'5" pitcher was available so that he may thank him for the blessing.  My son took special notice that the player had prayed before he threw his first pitch and that touched his heart.  He didn't get to meet that particular player, as he was already in the locker room, but the 7'1" pitcher spoke with him and signed his beloved ball.  Again, that touched his heart.

Mine and my husband's, too:-)

Hang in there, my son.  You are a boy after God's own heart.  You are too young to understand the things that you've overcome in just 12-almost-13-years.  You are the definition of 'perseverance'!  And don't you'll grow.  You have to in order to properly balance that 'body to foot size' ratio :-)

I remember how embarrassed he was when I made this picture.  That's okay.  I'm pretty sure that's my duty and right as a mother to embarrass my teenagers...

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