Luke

I remember being a first time Mom. There were so many beautiful things about it. I loved being able to give this little boy all of my time and attention. I had two hands, which meant I could hold Luke's hand and my Husbands hand simultaneously. I only had to pack a small diaper bag for Church each Sunday and I only needed to gear treasures and snacks for 1 age. We never missed a bed time or a playdate or an appointment. When it was nap time there were 2 heads that would hit the pillow, Lukes and then my own. I could prepare a meal for everyone based on what Luke would eat. Going to the grocery store was never put off until Dave was home and spontaneous walks and other such outings occurred on a very regular basis.

There were a few scary things about a first baby as well. I read the "What to Expect: The first year" frequently. I wondered if binky's would cause speech delays, the day her turned 1 the bottle was taken away; never to be seen again, pajamas were never worn 2 nights in a row, diapers were changes the very minute he woke up so that I never chanced a diaper rash. I bathed him every single evening so that I could be sure that he was hitting his bed as cleanly as possible. I stressed out over, what now seems like, the most insignificant details. But what I worried most about were milestones. I remember thinking that, upon sitting up at barely 5 month old, that he was a genius. And when he crawled at 8 months old I thought "He'll probably be average, average is okay, right?" When he didn't walk until he was 13 1/2 months old I worried that he may struggle all through School, getting by with a 2.8 GPA. What if he didn't get into College? We'd still praise him and tell him how much we loved him anyways, even if he weren't quite as smart as his friend, who started walking at 9 months. I was sure that friend would win all of the spelling bee's and probably get into an Ivy League School.

Clearly Im over-exaggerating a bit but the principal was still the same. I thought that those milestones defined much bigger things then they really did. That it defined brilliance. I wondered how he'd measure up. I always worried.

Here we are, almost 7 years later, and I am proud to say that this late walker is doing just fine. He's in advanced math groups and is reading ahead by over a year. He is, what we believe to be, developing somewhat of a photographic memory. He can't wait to go to College to be a Pediatric Neurologist. His Teacher couldn't believe that a little boy, once constantly plagued by Aspergers Syndrome, could possibly come this far in this short amount of time. She said that its been a first in her career as a teacher to be this blown away by such rapid progress. It's mind-boggling to me that he has gone from speech therapy, behavior therapy, OT, and Social Skills groups. From a boy who would scream bloody murder if anything about his day was "off" and who would scratch and bite me until I would bleed. This boy who could not hold a spoon to feed himself until he was almost 2 is now a very well-liked, wonderfully behaved, smart little 6 year old who can memorize page numbers and detailed facts about all sorts of things. I think its nothing short of his hard work and a blessing from on High... and here I was, many years ago, worried that he may struggle, indefinitely, in just about every aspect of his life.

Luke has been a great example to me of what never giving up can become.