When I found out I was pregnant with Addison I was overjoyed. I was having a child with a man I loved and it was going to be my fairy tale come true.
And then his father left three months into the pregnancy.
I was already a single mother to a 10 and 9 year old and I had no idea what I was going to do. I was terribly sick with morning sickness and getting up daily was a huge task because I was extremely depressed on top of it. I had my own graphic design and web development business at the time so I was able to work from home, but even that was a daunting task.
Back then it wasn’t so PC to have a child out of wedlock and I was shunned by my community. My mother wouldn’t look at me or even look at sonogram pictures of the baby, my sisters lived far away, my Dad was overseas, I had lost touch with my brother, and all the family in the world that could possibly help me were under the age of 11. My ex-husband thought I was setting a terrible example to our children by having a baby out of wedlock, that he made things even more difficult by not watching the boys for anything extra outside of the court appointed time. ”You’ve made your bed Heide, now lie in it”.
I struggled. I cried. I hurt. I was broken and no one in the world knew how hard my life was. How hard it was to wake up and be a good parent to two energetic and vivacious young boys. How hard it was to provide for them. How hard it was to go to soccer games and see the judgement and hear the whispers from the other parents. Every day I hurt, felt pain ripping through my heart, but one thing never changed. The love I had for this baby.
I would sit in his nursery and rub my belly, singing to him every night, letting him listen to Finding Nemo and Shark Tale on the television, describing to him what was going on as the cartoon movie unfolded.
I read to him. I laughed for him and I told him every free second of every day how much he was loved.
When Addison was set to arrive, my sister Karen showed up and was my Lamaze coach. I remember looking up at the hospital ceiling and staring at a cross pattern with my eyes, praying Jesus please be with me, please help me bring this baby into the world. My sister was telling me how beautiful I was and was stroking my long, pregnancy hormone enriched, black hair with a hair brush. She was telling me how great I was doing and even though I was so scared, she gave me comfort beyond belief. I can see her face clearly as I looked up wondering when it was all going to be over. When will I get to see my baby? She smiled. She was calm. She was my everything.
Then he was here. A big boy. 8 lbs. 8 oz. and my sister got to hold him first lol. Well deserved 🙂
His head was perfectly round, his cheeks were a rosy pink and even though he was covered in alien grey goo he was the most perfect thing I had ever seen.
“Addison. Hello Addison. It’s me your Mom, and I’ve been waiting for you. Thanks for showing up. I’ve got to tell you now to your face how much I love you, son. Your brothers are anxiously waiting to meet you and your Aunties are through the moon with joy. I may not be able to give you the world, but I will give you my world.”
The road that followed was a difficult one. He had seizures. He wasn’t achieving his milestones. The pediatrician kept telling me it was just an immature nervous system but I knew there was something more at play here. He was finally diagnosed with Autism at the age of three and at the age of four his bio father gave up his parental rights, because in the State of Texas, child support doesn’t stop at 18 for a special needs child. It is for life. He didn’t want any part of that.
All of that was ok though, because this child belonged to me. My baby. My son. No one would ever take him from me and I was going to prove to everyone that I could raise him just fine on my own and I have for 11 of his 12 years before I got married.
I lost my house. I lost relationships. I lost my business. I gave up all the “stuff” that I had to provide for my children. It was just stuff and my children’s welfare meant more than any fancy purse or car or even dream house. Every year it seemed like we continuously downsized. Addisons healthcare wasn’t cheap nor were baby clothes and diapers but I made it happen. I did this.
The one thing I couldn’t give him was any more family than I had, and we were already scattered across the U.S. My mother, once meeting Addison, fell deeply in love with him and her then judgemental heart had softened to one with unconditional love and adoration for her grandson. She ended up being a huge help by watching my older two when I needed a break or much needed sleep.
With Addisons autism it was always difficult for him to make and retain friends. Every year it would be a celebration of his birthday with only myself and my two boys. We typically had a few presents since money was always tight and usually ended up at Chuck E Cheese. Eight years ago I saved and bought him an IPad which he has used every day since.
Two years ago I had asked my co workers and Facebook friends if they wouldn’t mind sending Addison a card for his birthday. He never asked for anything, but just a card would make him feel like he had more “family”. I received two. Two cards. I was so sad because I thought if the world only knew how good this little boy was. How kind he was. How compassionate and loving. How he has never in 12 years given me a hard time. How he loves the Lord and praying with him was always a highlight of my day. I haven’t done that in awhile. I need to do that with him again.
Addison lights up a room. His smile is infectious and you can’t help but feel better about life when you look at it through his eyes.
This year I decided to make the same plea and this year you all have made it magical. Today he asked who everyone was that was sending him all of these cards and gifts. I said they were his family. People from all over who care and love him. If I could have captured that moment on camera it would have been the cover of Life magazine. Joy. Genuine joy. So where I haven’t captured that moment, I have captured this. And today again, I say thank you to Addisons “family”, our new “Schipperke family”, and my friends for coming through for me, for us, and to change, even if it’s for just one year, a child’s birthday memory.