Last Thursday I started to notice that Cale wasn't moving around like he usually does. He was slow, weak, and most often would just choose not to move and scream bloody murder instead. He normally crawls all over the place, getting into things he shouldn't be getting into, following his sister wherever she goes, and if nothing else motivates him to move it's a sure bet the offer to read him a book will kick him into high gear. When asked to go and pick out a book, he screamed and screamed...never moving an inch. I panicked.
All of the doctors and therapists we've seen have always been pleased with the fact that Cale continues to progress, albeit slower than normal, he continues to make gains. They always warn Alex and me to take note if he ever loses a skill, and that that would be a sign of concern and to take him to his pediatrician immediately. We watched him closely Thursday night and decided to give it another day to take him in. Friday started out much of the same; he would try to move but would quickly give up and just scream for hours. Finally during lunch, I put him next to a chair and he just slumped over and appeared to not even have the strength to sit up. Through panicked and scared tears, I called his pediatrician and she told us to come in right away.
I remember like it was just yesterday the day we drove to his doctor two years ago. I had a bad feeling about the appointment and so I made a CD full of worship songs, just in case I needed them after we were done. After she had given us the diagnosis, I walked back to the car with my baby boy in my arms, wishing our lives here on earth would be over soon so that we could be in Heaven together. I didn't want to experience the pain that, I thought, was only left for us here on earth. I didn't necessarily want to die but I certainly didn't want to live. Driving to the doctors office this time was much of the same. I tuned the radio to the local Christian station and bawled the entire drive. I was scared, hopeless, and angry with God for allowing yet another terrible situation to effect our family. I walked up the flight of stairs, holding Cale, ready to face the next defining moment that would effect the rest of our lives.
Thankfully, his doctor wasn't ready to diagnose him with the sort of digression I thought he was experiencing. She gave a couple of scenarios and told us to give it through the weekend before we brought him in again. Even though she didn't deliver bad news, I was cautious to believe that we were in the clear. I was still scared, still angry, and playing through all the horrible situations I could think of in my head. Watching and waiting all weekend was going to be torture.
Saturday was probably the worst of the two days. Alex and I were both so scared and couldn't find a way to make peace in our home. We were both angry at God, scared for our little boy whom we loved so much, and uncertain how to deal with the emotions we were feeling. The tension in our home was almost too unbearable to deal with. We spent the day doing everything we could think of to get Cale to move and all of our efforts were met with complete and utter disappointment. I remember putting Cale to bed that night and laying down with my son, tears running down my face while I put my hand on his little head, pleading and praying for God to heal him.
Sunday morning came and Cale still didn't show any signs of being able to move. We got ready for church as usual and I remember driving and telling Alex I wish I had water-proof mascara. I knew the water-works were coming soon. Ironically, our pastor delivered an amazing sermon on suffering. My family was suffering and it was so refreshing to be reminded of God's plan for suffering. I was still angry, though, and not ready to praise God for what He was doing in our lives. I could make sense of God doing something to me, like allowing me to get cancer or something like that, but I just couldn't wrap my mind around why He would allow something so terrible to happen to my little boy. He is so innocent and yet already having to deal with more than I probably have in my entire life. "It's just not fair", is what I thought.
Monday we drove to Helena for an orthopedic appointment that we had scheduled for Cale even before this all started happening. The appointment went surprisingly well, although I was almost hoping for her to see something that was preventing Cale from being able to move around like he once had been able to. His bones looked great, though, and she thought Cale would one day walk even though she couldn't be 100% certain. That was good news - Praise the Lord for good news! We got home and Cale actually started to crawl a little bit. He was admittedly weak and wouldn't go far but at least he was moving! We went about the rest of our night as usual and after we got the kids in their pajamas and ready for bed, we decided to stretch Cale and play the "ping-pong" game, which is just when Alex and I sit about four feet apart and help Cale walk to and from us. Note: he has NEVER taken an independent step while doing this. After about three our four passes between us, Cale miraculously took one step all on his own! Alex and I clapped and screamed and acted like complete idiots, but considering the last few days this was, by far, way more than we could have ever hoped for. Cale was so proud of himself, laughing and giggling during each pass between us. We probably did this for a solid forty-five minutes, keeping the kids way up past their bed time, but we just could not get enough of watching Cale take his very first steps all on his own. He took about ten steps throughout the forty-five minutes we were doing this, at most two at a time, and after we finally put him to bed I had to stay up for at least another hour just to have the adrenaline leave my body.
There are two things I have learned from the last four days. 1. I admit that I am often sad when I think of everything Cale can't do. He can't run around and play like the other kids his age do, but after going through the scare of him possibly not being able to move at all made me incredibly thankful for all that Cale CAN do. He can do a lot and I need to remember we are blessed for his abilities and that things could be a lot worse. 2. God is good...ALL THE TIME. Even though I don't understand the way He works or why He allows the things to happen that He does, His plan is good. He loves Cale more than I do, which is impossible to wrap my mind around, and He is going to use Cale in a way that blows any plan that I have for him out of the water!
I'm still scared and still left wishing I knew what the future holds for our family, but I'm hopeful and reminded that God is faithful.
