Time

When you're a mother of a very young child, time is not your own. So many 'experienced' moms told me while I was pregnant to get lots of sleep and enjoy every moment with my husband and by myself because it wasn't going to last. Of course, I took this advise but only truly appreciated it after Anna was born. I think that's probably the same for many new mothers.

So add to all the diapers, feeding, wash and countless other baby chores, therapy. My life as I knew it was gone. My time was so scheduled. I was only grateful that Anna had fallen into a daily routine so I could count on naps and bedtime as my solace.

Two days a week we had half hour sessions in nearby Verona. It was nice getting out of the house and seeing other adults, but it was also a twice-a-week reminder of Anna's disabilities. Just when I felt we were making progress, a session came along and reminded me that Anna had a long road ahead of her.

I tried to focus on her achievements however small they were, but come therapy time, I felt discouraged by the therapists' unimpressed attitude. Don't get me wrong, they weren't mean and certainly recognized improvements from week to week, but I never received the reaction I felt Anna deserved. . . . and, well, that I deserved! After all, I worked just as hard if not harder than Anna did and would actually have to carry the memories of the experience with me for the rest of my life. Anna will grow up and hopefully never remember a time where there were things she couldn't do.

But we forged ahead and worked really hard hoping that during the time inbetween therapy sessions, Anna would make such a huge stride that anything less than a ticker tape parade would do!