Letters of Love from Mother to Son....

I'm not sure where I came up with the idea, but when I found out I was pregnant with Beau, in 2007, I started to write letters to him.  I wrote these letters at pivotal points throughout my pregnancy and beyond and put them with pictures (of me and my pregnant belly) from that time period in a scrapbook for him to enjoy when he got older.  I figured that he would love to look back at it when he had his own children.  We didn't know of Beau's brain abnormality when I was pregnant; he wasn't diagnosed until he was almost 18 months old.  I wrote to him like any mother would write to her child sharing my joy for his presence and all of the wonderful things I hoped for him and his future. This came to the forefront of my mind very recently when I was given an article from a family member.  They'd read it in the June/July 2011 National Right to Life News.  The title of the article was Sarah Palin: "Every Child is Created Special, with Awesome Purpose and Amazing Potential".  I won't talk politics on this blog - so please set aside your political views or personal views of Sarah Palin and take a moment to read the article.  If you have a child with special needs you'll "get it" and you'll appreciate the letter.  It made me think so much about my letters to Beau.  Her is a link to that article. http://www.nationalrighttolifenews.org/NewsOnline/June-July2011/SarahPalinEveryChild.html In all of the Palin emails that were recently released they came across an email she wrote in April of 2008, just a few days before the arrival of her son Trig, who was born with Down Syndrome.  She wrote it to their family and friends as if it was God writing a letter to their family about the journey they were about to embark upon.

All of that explains to you why I chose to blog about my letters of love to Beau.  It shows a little about me, my innermost feelings and pure love for my son.  I seem to do better with expressing things in writing than I do talking sometimes.  I'd like to share an excerpt from a letter I wrote to Beau at the end of the first trimester.

........Within just seconds of Dr. Breitkreuz placing the doppler on my abdomen we heard the most amazing sound we've ever heard - your heartbeat! I knew the second he had found it and immediately looked over at your daddy sitting next to me.  Your heart was beating so fast and it was music to our ears.  When I looked at your daddy his smile went from ear to ear and mine had to have looked the same.  I didn't know whether to laugh with excitement or cry at how precious the sound was.

.........Boy or girl, we'll be excited either way, we just want you healthy.......Your daddy and I love you more than you'll ever know and we haven't even met you yet.

The letters are very similar throughout.  I talk about the ultrasound results and how perfect everything looked and our joy and excitement at our precious gift from God.  I looked forward to writing those letters each month to Beau.  After the major seizure he had in July of 2009, I wrote Beau another letter.  I wrote it in August of 2009.  I pulled it out just recently and I broke down reading it and as I share a bit of the letter with you, it brings me back to that moment and brings back some tears with it.  I can't share the letter in it's entirety, as it was written to only to Beau, but I want to share a piece of it.  Here goes....
My dearest baby Beau,

I've struggled this month to come up with the proper words to write to you.  My heart has been broken so many times this month.  You've reached another milestone in turning 18 months old this month.  We almost had to deal with you not being here to celebrate that milestone. 

I explain to him all that had happened and I go on to say....

After a stay at the University of Iowa, a return home and a follow up seizure, your life has become a medical drama.  Your father and I would do whatever we could to take away any pain you've had or are having.  It's so hard because you can't talk to us and tell us what's going on.  After numerous tests it was discovered that you have partial agenesis of the corpus callosum, an absent posterior pituitary bright, global developmental delay and epilepsy.  It's a mouthful isn't it?

Later in the letter....

You have this way of charming people so quickly.  It seems that one look from those beautiful big blue eyes is all it takes.  I don't think I'll ever forget how you blew kisses to all of the medical students when they lined up in your room in Iowa City.  It was completely adorable and everyone just melted when you did it; certainly not a shy little boy.

I closed the letter with....

After all that has happened this last month, you need to know that so many people are praying for you and so many people love you.  You are a true blessing and miracle from God and you have been since day one..........You are going to do great and your father and I will do whatever it takes to help you......God and His angels have been close by you lately and I know that they are protecting you.  It wasn't your time to leave us and we thank God every day for that. 

Since his diagnosis, I've often thought about how sad I feel that maybe he won't ever understand the letters or ever be able to read them on his own.  I know that it seems like such a silly thing to be concerned about in the grand scheme of things but nonetheless, I have thought about it.  I've tried to tell myself that when he gets older, he will understand some of those words that I wrote to him.  If nothing else he'll hear the words of love.  In a letter I wrote him in May of 2010 after another really bad seizure I address this concern......

You amaze me every day with your strength and determination.  One day, I hope that you are able to read these letters I have written you and know how much love I have for you and how much love your family has for you.  You are an inspiration for so many and you're too young to even know that you have impacted so many lives......Your passion for life is contagious and even though you're only 3 feet tall, I look up to you every day.......I love the little man you are becoming and I can't stress enough how proud of you I am.  All my love, Mommy.

I still feel that way today.  Proud, blessed and inspired by a small little man, I call my Beau Beau. 

"You've developed the strength of a draft horse while holding onto the delicacy of a daffodil ... you are the mother, advocate and protector of a child with a disability." -Lori Borgman