Love me? Love my kid.

Today, I'll let you a little further into the depths of my soul.

If you know my family personally, you're probably well acquainted with our five kids.  And some of you have probably noticed that one of our little darlings is behind developmentally.  Our sweet Levi has been both the happiest and crankiest of our kids.  From near birth, he was colicky, but once his tummy troubles dissipated, he was mostly smiles and giggles.  Then the milestone markers came and went without him reaching them "on time."  Late crawling, late walking, slower pace of those fine and gross motor skills, and just a few words.  A new crankiness set in: the one where he was so frustrated because he couldn't communicate verbally with us.  And Mommy got frustrated too.  Hearing "Mama! Mama! Mama!" as the request for everything gets frazzling.  There is also his disappointment that he is unable to keep up with what the older kids are doing.  More bawling at my kneecaps.

Over time, well meaning people would reassure me that he was fine, normal, and that he was just choosing not to talk.  He had eventually hit the other milestones, so I was just to wait patiently for his timing.  I was foolish enough to believe them despite what my gut was telling me and most foolishly, I believed a "reassurance" that didn't come from our all-knowing God.

Enough time had passed for my comfort, so we started to meet with doctors and therapists for evaluations, etc.  His delays were at a percentage that qualified him for a government-run preschool program for developmentally and physically delayed kids.  (The case manager who oversees us is a wonderful advocate, proactive, and very helpful.)  He began the preschool in late November, and we've seen some great progress in speech and in many other areas.  He also is now signing several words which makes for a happier kid, able to communicate some of his basic desires!

At a recent physical therapy evaluation, we were encouraged to visit with a neurologist.  My stomach sank at those words since it seemed to reach a much more serious level.  So off we went and after answering more questions and seeing the doctor for just a few minutes, we heard his diagnosis: cerebral palsy.

Now before any of you react without knowing what it is, I suggest you look it up.  It doesn't mean our son is dumb or going to stay at his current level either.  It's not even a disease.  It's an umbrella term for motor and physical delays, and Levi is on the mild side.  We have every reason to hope that he will work through his delays and barriers with physical and speech therapy.  The diagnosis is helpful because we will qualify for California Child Services therapies for free.

(Excuse me if my tone shifts to a little feisty.)  Now when people ask about his delays, I'll say, "He's got cerebral palsy."  I may get looks or worse, he may get looks.  Even before all this medical jargon got tossed in, I felt angst with some of the looks and reactions by acquaintances, so-called friends, and even family.  It actually infuriated me.  I didn't want to be around those people since they couldn't love me by loving my kid.  So I distanced myself, and I am just fine with that.  If you think that you can be close to me in my life while I can read those ugly thoughts on your face about my son, think again.  On the flip side, there are a few who seemed to pick Levi out as their personal Gillespie favorite.  Those friends have a very special place in my heart - not for playing favorites, but for taking the time to notice what a special and joyful kid he is and paying attention to him even when he isn't going to converse with you.

I know that God made Levi fearfully and wonderfully, just like every other human being.  He has disabilities but to some extent, we all do.  His just are more visible.  And from one imperfect person to another, it would be great if you would teach your kids that too - not for Levi's sake, but for all with disabilities.

There are plenty of blessings that come along with this journey: the growth of faith and trust in God as we figure out how to work with Levi, intimately teaching our kids how to love people who are different, difficult, annoying at times (most siblings are though), and those with disabilities.  I've known families whose kids have developed a crazy, unparalleled love and compassion like Jesus because their sibling had a disability.  There is a lesson to be learned in everything!

So these are just a few thoughts; I'm not going to go on right now.  Some of you who read this will know exactly what I'm talking about and that comforts me a lot.  Some of you might be annoyed because I'm making such a big deal about this when things could be so much worse.  I know things could be.  But this is where I am at.

And so, I leave off with a prayer request.  Tomorrow is a big day for Levi, Mommy, and Daddy.  Levi will be fully sedated to get an MRI in Oakland.  Scott and I will be by his side in the recovery room, and he'll go home with us after he spends awhile in there.  It's always nerve-wracking to have your kid wheeled away to have medical tests you can't hold his hand through.  The test will determine where the brain function is held up (hopefully) so we can move onto more tests and therapies for him.  Thank you for thinking of us and for your prayers!