With every passing day, I am busier. Dillon is ten months and he challenges me to a game I like to call, “Who is the busiest?” Dillon is undefeated. He pulls the socks out of the dresser drawer faster than I can put them back in. He knocks ornaments off the Christmas tree, grabs everything in site, puts every small object in his mouth, and climbs every surface within his reach (and even if he can’t reach it, he will find a way). He is captain busy.
I have a hard time admitting this, but it’s true that there has been a time in my life, right after we received Dillon’s diagnosis, that I asked God, “Why are You giving me a child with a disability?” Because, honestly, I didn’t know the first thing about babies, aside from what I had witnessed with my little brothers and nephews (which wasn’t much) and I most definitely didn’t know the first thing about a baby who is differently-abled. I was scared. Now, I still find myself asking God, “Why?” But it’s for a completely different reason. “Why do I deserve such an awesome kid?”
When Dillon was diagnosed, a lot of people prayed for God to heal him. A few people were disappointed when we had our final ultrasound and the CSF-filled cyst on Dillon’s back was bigger than ever. At that point in my pregnancy, I knew no matter what, no matter how big Dillon’s “disability” is, my God is bigger.
Dillon was born with Spina Bifida and his L1 lesion was horrifying. He had a shunt placed at 1 month for his hydrocephalus.
Today, none of that even matters. He crawls faster than the speed of light (or close to it). He pulls up and cruises around every piece of furniture we own. He is fluent in gibberish. He is captain busy. But, most importantly, trumping everything else imaginable, he laughs, he smiles, he gives kisses, he bounces with excitement, he is happy, and he is loving.
God healed Dillon, he gave him the ability to love and to be happy.
And that’s all I could ever want for Dillon or any of my future children.