CryingBehindMySunGlasses

“Do you want me to go with you?” he asked.  I remember thinking to myself, the doctor said it was just x-rays to check his hips, nah I got this. Little did I know,  this particular waiting room would be the beginning of a whole new journey.  A journey that today, I find myself looking back on and still wondering, what the hell…all while looking up to the sky to say Thank You to the big man upstairs.  

It was the first time since the boys were born that I went to an appointment by myself.  Joe had been by my side since day one, never missing a single appointment and there had been MANY! I truly thought this would be quick, easy and I would be back home to my mother-in-law with the other two in no time.  

Quick, yes, easy…not one bit. I still feel the pit in my stomach replaying the very nonchalant way the doctor said it.  We had been warned of everything that “could” go wrong with having 2 pound preemie twins and even though that list is really, like really long that they try to tell you while you’re scared shitless about what is going to happen when it all goes down, you don’t exactly remember each topic, that was until this appointment.  

I watched the doctor play around with his legs and arms and then focus more on his legs.  At the time, we knew were not right, hence the reason for x-rays.  He couldn’t sit up without being in that awful W position so they were checking for hip dysplasia.  I was chatting with him about his movement, how it was hard to hold him on my hip because his little legs were so straight and he was kind of like a stiff board from the waist down.     

Then it just happened, and the words still sting today, “well this baby has diplegia Cerebral Palsy.” My stomach turned inside out and into my throat and I immediately went into autopilot mode and just listened. He explained what that meant, I remember asking a few questions and talking about doctors. The x-rays showed that his hips were good, so we talked about what to do and who to follow up with.  Now this doctor is just an orthopedic doctor so he cannot diagnose CP but he has seen enough to know.  

I packed him up, put his blue blanket on him, found my sunglasses and put them on.  I don’t believe wearing sunglasses inside, it just doesn’t make sense to me.  But that day, they were necessary.  Walking out of the building, carrying him on my hip in his carseat, I could barely breathe but I knew I had to keep it together to regurgitate everything I just heard to Joe.  I loaded JoJo and called him immediately. I barely remember that convo other than telling him, “baby he thinks he has Cerebral Palsy.” Choking back all the tears to actually make sense.  

Driving home was a blur, not only because of every thought possible going through my head but because my sunglasses were filled against my cheeks with tears that burned my eyes in ways I had never felt before.  You know, the ones you have to hold in so hard they make the back of your eyes and throat burn?  Who knew that a single pair of sunglasses can be the exact thing you need when you least expect it and that it wouldn’t the last time I reached for them to hide behind.  

– The Tears You Don’t See