He Is Just Spencer

Does anyone else get antsy about the end of the year?  Like the end of the year is also going to be the end of the world?  Every year?  Just me? Okay.  

I just put two years of my blog into book form.  This is of course, because the world is ending soon, and when the world ends, there is no internet.  I've got to keep my words alive for my posterity to read as they walk around the apocalyptic wasteland that will be.

I also made some Instagram books.  Same reason.  World ending, gotta have those square prints in tangible form.

Making part of my blog into a book has caused me to read parts of my blog.  And think about parts of my blog.  And wonder why it is I've stopped blogging.  And if I were being perfectly honest (brutal honesty is what you need when dealing with end of the world scenarios) I would have to say it's because of Spencer.

Spencer has been my enigma.  He was and IS this happy, beautiful, perfect little baby boy in our family.  He has been a joyous and beautiful blessing to us for 2 1/2 years, since day one.  But Spencer isn't that toddling little one you might think of when you think of a two year old.  He doesn't walk.  He doesn't talk.  He is far behind his peers.  He crawls and babbles and is so, so, so (I could add a LOT of so's here) happy.

I knew he was behind when he was 6 months and I kept wanting to talk about it.  I wanted to write about it. But I didn't want to label him.  I didn't want people reading my blog (people that know me) or family and friends to see Spencer and just think: behind.  I wanted Spencer to be Spencer and I wanted the joy and happiness that he carries with him at all times to be what people see.

I've had this blog about milestones my preemie triplets have made.  I've blogged about when they started crawling, and eating solid foods and with Spencer, there were no updates or progress reports for a long time.  I wasn't sure how to introduce him in the story arc of our family.  I didn't want to make excuses or try and give reasons WHY he wasn't rolling over, or crawling or grabbing toys with his hands.  Isn't that silly? Why do I need to preface who he is?  He is JUST Spencer!

A lot of family and friends ask about Spencer's diagnosis.  This is totally natural, and I might do the same thing in their shoes.  The truth is, Spencer doesn't have a diagnosis yet.  It's not because doctors can't figure it out and we've been searching and searching for 2 years.  It's because just last month is when I had a simple blood test done to test his genes to look for abnormalities.  I didn't have to wait.  I chose to.  I've never had a urgent need to "find out what's wrong with him."  Spencer is happy.  He is loved by his brothers and sister.  He is his dad's buddy and his mom is his world, not unlike any other 2 year old.  He hasn't regressed since he's been born.  Only progressed.  Slowly.  Painfully slow.  But he is happy and he is healthy and that is all I care about.  I think Spencer has taught me about patience even more than his older siblings have. (I KNOW! THAT'S A LOT OF PATIENCE FOR ONE WOMAN TO LEARN.)  I've had to really trust myself as his mom to follow this course we've been on.  I've had to follow that quiet whispering that it will all be ok.  Don't panic.  He is JUST Spencer. 

So I don't panic.  I trust and I wait.  I set aside the outside voices of "what's wrong with him?"  The ones I've been hearing for nearly 2 years.

I will continue to trudge through the system of specialists and doctors because it's what's best for him.  We will eventually solve the puzzle of why Spencer has global delays.  I'll go to the genetic specialist and the ENT specialist and the orthotic specialist, and urology specialist and neurology specialist  and we will continue to have physical, speech and occupational therapy for him every week.  But I am going to stop with the pause button on the story of our family.  Because Spencer is our happiest hero.  He saves me everyday and came to us with the most beautiful plot line.

It's time I shared it.