Time: The gift that keeps on giving.

I know I am a scoliosis blog and I have to say today I should be writing a post about preparing for what will be our 14th cast, in 3+ years of casting.  We leave tomorrow for our home away from home, the beautiful Windy City awaiting our arrival.  As of this morning, my home is littered with toys, dishes sit dirty in my sink and laundry is scattered throughout my halls waiting to be washed.  A series of events over the past weeks has turned my angst and sorrow over continuing this process into a non-issue.  Chicago will welcome us whether my dishes are clean or not.  Fearing cast 14 is a non-issue at this point.  It is something we have to do.  William's spine is still curved and even though I never anticipated still being in the midst of this process...my child is otherwise healthy and happy.  He wakes each day and I don't fear his passing.  No this is not the ideal life we planned when growing our family, but it is our new normal.

Perspective is such a humble dose of reality.  In the past month, I finished digesting Pediatric Cancer Awareness Month on CN.  I have mourned the loss of young lives: Sweet Donna and Precious Aidan.  Entered October to plead for a miracle for little Lane who ultimately lost his battle with cancer shortly after Donna's remembery day.  While recovering and still grasping my children in thanks and giving, I learned one of my schools Alumni has relapsed and is now facing yet another fight for his young life against a pediatric brain tumor.  As I was preparing to take Batman and Robin for their Trick or Treat, one of my sisters former students fell to her death at the precious age of 19.  Four lights extinguished.  The loss of immense potential.  Donna, Aidan, & Lane are living on through their parents foundations.  They are kicking cancer butt in the names of their children.  A young man while facing his own mortality has chose to focus on fundraising for Pediatric Cancer in what may be his final fight.

10:15 am I will drive to my mothers house and put a casserole in the oven.  It is for a bereavement dinner at our church for a beautiful young girl 19 years young,  who will no longer breath on this earth.  Her family will spend the coming months wondering what the signs were, where they could have grasped to convince her-life would move forward.  LOSS, surrounds them in every palpable minute.  10:15 is a moment I can't put off because I am worried about a crooked spine or fearing anesthesia for the 15th time.  In the world of Progressive Infantile Scoliosis, we have countless I love you's still to come.  We have time to brace, cast, and even undergo surgical intervention.   Our children are not in danger of leaving our arms for more than the time it takes to entrust their surgeons to manipulate their tiny spines.   The process not ideal, as none of us want to see our kids swollen and battered from manipulation, they will in most cases still walk or be wheeled to our cars and we will rock them to sleep only to know they will wake again the next morning.

Our families have each been given a gift.  Even in the moments the process seems unfair or unbearable, we have been gifted with these precious lives.  Monday we will go through the process once again.  It may be routine, as we have learned, it may have hiccups.  One thing is certain, Monday we will leave Chicago again for another 12 weeks of growth.  William will spend his days at school expanding his mind.  His amazing big brother, cousin, & Aunt Maggie watching him while I work.  Each night I will return home and snuggle my boys, cherish their little lives and be grateful for time.

Mother, O' Mother, come shake out your
cloth,Empty the dustpan, poison the moth.

Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.
Where is the mother whose house is so
shocking? She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due,
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek - peekaboo.
The shopping's not done and there's nothing for
stew, And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo. 
 But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.Look!
 Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo.
The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till
tomorrow, But children grow up, as I've learned to my
sorrow.  So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.~ Ruth Hulbert Hamilton
Until Next Time, Keep it CuRvY~
Catie D. (Loss Sucks!)

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