Mother's Day 2006

Mother's Day this year felt different. I felt a little off all day. I think perhaps Brian and I are still processing Erik's diagnosis in our own ways, but the process is by no means close to being complete, at least in myself. I have never had a classic panic attack in my life but the other morning began feeling claustrophobic in my own body. The knowledge that Erik has Williams syndrome is like a brick in the back of my brain, and I can feel the weight and mass of it every second of the day, even when I am not consciously thinking about it. I carry it with me everywhere. I assumed that this heaviness would dissolve by now, but it hasn't. When I realized that this was quite possibly a permanent fixture in me in almost a physical sense, I couldn't breathe for a moment. I cannot escape this heaviness no matter what I do or where I go. On the other hand, today I have thought a lot about being Erik's mother and what that means. It is a great responsibility and honor. I have never loved anyone so much. Erik's syndrome is an intrinsic part of him, although it is only a part of him. Comparing him to other kids with Williams syndrome, I realize that we are lucky he lived at all, as many kids with WS die during infancy and toddlerhood of heart-related problems. The ones who live often have shiny, purple scars running down their baby-perfect chests from surgery. During my pregnancy, Erik was so still in my womb but let me know occasionally he was hanging on with taps and kicks. My two previous pregnancies before him ended without warning, and a sign here and there was good enough for me, although I now know that there were differences right from the beginning. I believe he was saving his strength to survive. I remember hearing his heartbeat for the first time in the doctor's office. I recorded the sound on a little tape recorder and have it to this day. At the time, I had no idea how important that sound would be. Erik's heart is perfect, and he is perfect. I cannot describe how thankful I am for that. It is a Mother's Day I will not forget.