A letter to my youngest son on his 6th birthday…
My Sweet Alex aka Alexander the Great,
I can hardly believe that you have made 6 trips around the sun already. What an incredible 6 years it has been! I have a few things to tell you and writing them down is always my best way to communicate.
If I could tell you just one thing that I would want you to know for the rest of your life, it would be: “Be You“. You know that you are loved and adored. Who you are is simply incredible. Never doubt that.
Let me begin by reminding you of how you came to be. In the beginning, I was told that there was a problem with my pregnancy and that you may not make it. It was stressful, but I knew that you would be okay. I prayed that day as I laid on the table while they looked at you through the 3D ultrasound. They looked at the chambers of your heart, the lobes of your brain, your fingers and toes. I saw your beautiful face. I prayed to God in a way that I cannot even explain to you. I begged God to let me keep you. I told you that I wasn’t going to say goodbye to you. I heard God tell me that you were going to be okay. That word “okay” just kept coming to me. A sense of peace washed over me.
You danced inside the womb. You didn’t just kick your tiny legs. You danced. Watch a Brazilian dance – how they move with their hands and feet and how they move with passion and intention. That was you. When you were born, you practically jumped out said the Doctor who delivered you. Ready to take on the world from the very start.
You were born on a Monday. The poem says “Monday’s child is fair of face“. That was you, for sure. I stared at your little face for hours. Dark hair and eyes, porcelain skin and ruby red lips. Not long after you were born, we learned that there was a little trouble with your spine. Like with everything else so far, it turned out to also be “okay”. Then, you were diagnosed with Congenital Hypothyroidism, just like your brother. It was a bumpy ride, to say the least. You were very sensitive to the medicine, and we had trouble getting your dose just right. Your thyroid levels were barely in range for your entire first year of life, leading to various complications with your heart rate and your skull. All of that also turned out okay. God fulfilled that promise made to me that day many summers ago in that ultrasound room.
You have shown people what it really means to live well with hypothyroidism. It is simply something you have, not something you are. Despite the issues that you face with your thyroid disorder, you are thriving in every sense of the word.
I know that you can’t remember this, but you spent much of your first 2 years being held. You have been adored since you arrived. Your biggest admirer, although you may not agree, is your older brother. I have countless pictures of him holding, hugging and kissing you. He is the one who named you Alexander. Before you could crawl, you would roll along the floor to get to wherever he was. I pray that you will always love each other this way.
Sometimes I want to slow you down. You have always been so quick to do everything – crawling, talking, walking, riding your bike. I just want to freeze you just the way you are right now, but then, I have to remember that you, the one who jumped into the world, are destined for big things.
You have always been insanely creative. I could sit and watch you play for hours – all the scenarios your toys end up in, the epic battles they fight. You are imaginative and independent. If you look up “marches to the beat of a different drum”, I’m certain there’s a picture of you. You have had opinions on your clothes, shoes and hair from the time you could talk. You didn’t like typical “kid foods” like hot dogs, chicken nuggets, and pizza. Sometimes I think it was because even at that young age, you knew that status quo was to be challenged. My biggest fear as your mother is that there will come a time when someone or something holds you back, tries to you put you in a box that you don’t belong in, or makes you feel as though being yourself isn’t enough. My littlest love don’t ever let that happen.
You are the wittiest person I know. You make me laugh every single day. It is one of your most amazing gifts. You have an impressive sense of everyone’s emotions. You know when we need cheered up, and you always know just how to do it. You are an excellent gift giver, and it’s because you are so keenly aware of everyone around you. You are a Mama’s boy, for sure, though, and always spoil me with the nicest gifts. It is rare that we go into a store that you don’t find a little treasure for me. You tell me every day that you love me.
Your compassion doesn’t stop with your family, though, and perhaps your greatest love is the love you have for animals. You lovingly tend to every living being in our home, from the dogs, to the fish, to the chickens. You love going to pet shops, zoos, and anything involving animals. You routinely beg us to move to a farm so that you can rescue animals. I believe that one day you will do just that.
Patience for now, little one, for one day you will follow your own dreams. Just keep at it. The world is yours. Sometimes you are frustrated at being the youngest and the smallest and the last to do everything. You are just at the beginning of your adventure, though, baby. Your time is coming. I promise. God has you, you are okay, and you are on your way.
I love you, my little kapoosh. Happy 6th Birthday!
Always and forever,
We celebrate your birth,
And your place on the Earth,
May the sun, moon, and stars,
Bring you peace where you are!
By Blythe Clifford aka Thyroid Mom
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