Noah's doctors appointment was today or how to really write about it. I could interpret today's appointment a variety of ways. Each day I believe holds a message within it for all of us. We may get that message instantly, days afterwards, years afterwards or sometimes we're so busy we fail to acknowledge that message all together. I like everyone else, am doing the best I can to find the messages I'm supposed to learn and grow from. And I don't always understand what I'm supposed to take notice of.
Someone once told me that the people in your life are the characters of your story. They come and they go, some stay for the whole ride, some pop in and out so ever briefly. They all have a purpose whether that's something positive or negative, but it's all meant to be. It defines and shapes who we are and what we become. I never really paid much attention to this really until Noah was born, and you take notice of the people that are there to support you, the people who leave, and the new ones that walk in to take their place. For everyone there is a time and place. I meet people in grocery stores, therapy waiting rooms, parking lots, or even walking around the neighborhood who all have a purpose in my story. Today's doctors appointment was one of those days where I met someone and I'm not sure if I'm suppose to learn something from them, or if I'm the one that they needed to learn something from, or if we're both mutually helping each other.
A different doctor waltzes into the room, and I of course go into somewhat of a stand-offish mode. Primarily because I have felt for many months that I can't get a doctor to follow Noah, to take interest in him, to follow him and his progress. I always feel like yet again another stranger. She said she was a doctor finishing her residency and that she'd be our doctor for the day. I told her I wanted to see the doctor we had an appointment with, she looked at me briefly with amazing eye contact and a hint of sadness and said, but I have a son like yours but he isn't doing well. She then looked at Noah with this look like he held the key to a promise she's been searching for, gently tilted her head and walked out the door to retrieve the doctor that I had requested. Maybe she was the one to become the person interested in Noah and I shoed her away, I don't know.
The doctor we were originally scheduled with comes in and measures Noah, listens to his lungs and heart, looks in his ears and weighs him. Noah is now 28.5 inches long, he does have long legs, but only weighs 15lbs 8oz and they think that he's underweight for his percentile. They think Noah needs more calories and want me to add formula to his pumped milk, and they are sending a supplement called duocal to the house from a nutritionist. I haven't researched it yet to see if the supplement has any negative effects or not. Noah looks healthy and doesn't appear like his weight is a problem. I tried to liquefy ground hamburger and pasta tonight but Noah gagged on the first spoonful. He's not ready. And I don't know when he will be.
After our appointment was over, the original doctor came back in with a sticky note giving me her home phone number, and said she was taking her son to Germany in November for stem cells. She asked if I knew of anyone that had done stem cells and I had mentioned two other mothers that I know that had gone to Costa Rica recently to have the procedure done. She asked if it worked, I told her I wasn't sure that it was still very early but that the mothers had reported progress. I almost felt like she was searching for hope in me, hope that Noah was doing well, and hope that her child would too. Even doctors are not except from the feelings that come with this journey.
They made me fill out a questionnaire today on Noah's developmental stages. I hate those questionnaires. They tell you every child, even without a disability, grows at a different rate, yet somehow they find standardized measures that they want to measure all children by. I think the only thing I even answered yes to was that Noah could socialize, but he cannot pick up a cheerio with two fingers, move toys from one hand to the other, but toys in his mouth, sit up, or roll over. The list was four pages long of me answering no to all the questions.
I still have days where I want so badly for Noah to be able to do everything that any other baby can do, where as his dad is content with just having Noah be whatever it is that he will be. I keep having these dreams about Noah. Last night I dreamt that Noah crawled for the first time on October 10th, I remember looking at the calendar, that being only ten days away I don't see that coming to fruition. I dream of him walking, I dream of him talking, I dream of him running towards me. I dream so much that it feels real until I wake up and remember I'm tucked in bed.
Hopefully they are dreams that I'll get to see come true one day.
Love,
Stacy, Chris & Noah
