Those first few days, weeks, and months after the diagnosis were dark. Dark days. The day I heard the news I walked into the neurologist’s office by myself. I really was not ready to hear what I heard, and I walked out with the wind knocked out of me with tears in my eyes. My husband, my rock wasn’t with me that day. He was enjoying a fun field trip for school with our boys. He wasn’t expecting the news either. As I walked out of the doctor’s office I felt everyone in the waiting room watching me as I tried to move my legs that felt as heavy as bricks, with tears streaming down my face.
How did we NOT know?
Why was the diagnosis such a shock? Why when I had prayed to have answers was I not content? How could I not seeing it coming when a nurse gently commented that my daughter could have cerebral palsy? Why after all the research I had done on the internet after getting her MRI results did I not think this was coming? I had that feeling nagging in my gut that had already told me that my little baby girl had cerebral palsy, so how did I not know? It was a shock because you don’t think it will happen to you. It’s a shock because you don’t want it to happen to you. You want to stay hopeful that it doesn’t come true.
After leaving the doctor’s office I went numb and didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t text my husband and tell him anything about the appointment. I certainly wasn’t going to call him during a field trip and act like everything was okay. He would see right through it even if I did. So I waited. I couldn’t call or tell anyone else either before telling my husband because that just didn’t seem right. I didn’t want to go home yet either, so I tried to do something that I normally like to do.
Retail therapy. That normally helps. In town, there were some tiny shops I had always wanted to explore but didn’t because of having three little ones tagging along. So I wiped my tears, strapped my sweet baby girl in my Boba carrier and went window shopping. It wasn’t a distraction, though, and it didn’t take my mind off of the elephant in the room. I had no interest in it at all and decided to head home.
Sweet Husband of Mine:
It was several hours after getting the news before my husband came home. Those hours there were more tears and praying than I thought possible. When he walked in the door, I told him the news, and there he stood my rock. It amazes me when I think how God puts the people in our lives that we just “need.” My husband responded in a way that I didn’t expect and that my body wanted to naturally fight against. He said, “we aren’t going to just sit here and cry, we are going to do something.” Do you know what we did? We painted our living room and kitchen. See we had just moved into our new home months before all of this and had paint ready to go. We just didn’t have the right time to do it. That afternoon, and evening we painted. We didn’t cry but we painted.
Let me tell you, friends, that was the best therapy ever. Just my husband and I painting our hearts out into our home. We got it all painted that night, and felt somewhat better. Then after the last paint brush was clean, the tears began to fall again, and that sweet husband of mine wrapped me up in his loving arms. It was just what I needed. The day didn’t seem so dark anymore.
The Sun Returns:
After that day, I will tell you it did take some time to grieve this news and realize it will all be okay. If you are someone suspecting that your child may have cerebral palsy or any other diagnosis, or if you just received the news, I pray that you will reach out. I would love to hear from you, or please subscribe to get updates on new posts, as I continue to share how I healed. I would love to be your friend through these hard times. Hang in there friend, because you aren’t alone, and it will get easier. Hugs!