From, “Why me?” to “Thankfully, me.”

On April 7, 2011, Preston took his kindergarten entrance exam. This picture was taken before we left. This is a milestone for any child.  After dropping him off at Montessori after his test I called my mother and cried.  I wasn’t crying only because how is it possible that Preston is already going to kindergarten?  I was crying because while waiting to take his test, I watched him walk up to children he didn’t know, sit down and start playing.  He shared toys.  I heard him say, “My name’s Preston.”

I have seen many blog posts lately regarding the “Why me” factor when it comes to our child’s dwarfism.  I’m hoping as one of the older parents with one of the older children, that I maybe can make that question become less frequently asked, if not obsolete.

If you go back to the very beginning of my blog, I wrote about Preston’s journey.  I wrote how when I told Marrah about Preston’s at that time, unknown diagnosis,she asked what she could do.  Through tears I told her, “Just love my son.”  And you know what?  That’s the only thing I have asked of everyone.  Just love my son (ok, I may also tell my mother he really truly does not need anymore summer clothes).  Don’t get me wrong.  I had my “why me” moments.  I would secretly laugh when people in stores would tell me Preston was going to be a football player because he was a true bruiser baby: seriously-here he is at 6 1/2 months:

I maybe am also one of the lucky ones.  Besides ear tubes (3 sets) and a tonsil/adenoid removal and the first two winter respiratory issues, Preston has not had many achon related issues.  He hit his milestones pretty quick for an achon baby (sitting around 7.5-8 months and walking/running at 16).  I also have never had any negativity surrounding us.  No one has ever made a derogatory comment (at least that I’ve heard).  I do get asked a lot how old he is; it is a rare occasion anyone asks a follow up question and I typically don’t feel the need to start educating everywhere we go.  I’ve never labeled Preston.  I hate the word dwarf.  I call him Preston.  He has dwarfism.  As I’ve said before it is part of him, it is part of what makes him who he is, but it’s not a full on definition.  If that were true I would go around saying, “Hi. I’m Kim, I’m average height.”  Because of Preston’s size though and his GIANT personality we tend to get a lot of attention.  The other thing he has going for him is he is an only child.  He is used to being the KING at all times.  We were in Friendly’s the other night after the kindergarten test and he was approached by two other classmates and then he turned around and befriended the kid behind him. I began talking to a couple across from us about him going to school and I mentioned he had dwarfism.  The woman said to me, “I honestly thought he was just younger until I heard you say he was going into kindergarten.”  Today on the soccer firled a grandmother approached me to tell me that Preston’s smile and his utter happiness while playing was a joy to watch.  And then she added how cute he was. For good measure let’s throw another baby picture in shall we?  9 months:

So when did the why mes stop?  Pretty quickly in my case. First of all I was a single mother getting a divorce when he was six months old.  I had issues that far exceeded the fact he happened to be blessed with dwarfism. Second, when Preston was young I wish there were blogs and Facebook.  Thankfully through the Yahoo POLP, I met Emily first.  I then was in touch with two local families in New York.  Then the blogs started and Facebook got popular and the POLP family grew.  I cannot imagine my life without some of these women in it.  I am literally hopping around in anticipation to see many tomorrow in Baltimore.  Had I not been given Preston, these wonderful people would never have come into my life.

Third, I admire Preston.  Preston has taught me.  Preston has shown me that life is not always the “prefect” picture you expect.  Preston has shown me that anything is possible-even playing soccer and being a good head and a half shorter than the others.  Preston has shown me the good in the world-that people are people despite their differences.  I can truly honestly tell you (and even my mother can attest to this, and she knows when I fib), that I don’t see height.  I used to measure Preston religiously to see if he gained 1/4 of a centimeter.  I now once every 6 months give him a height check if I notice his pants seem shorter. 

I know his final height is projected to be on the top of the achon scale and therefore limb lengthening is still in my cards for him because he really will be in height purgatory.  But I don’t think about that now.  Because it may never happen.  And I don’t care anymore if it does or doesn’t. I like Preston small.  He told me he loves being tiny. 

I think one of the reasons Preston is so positive is everyone that surrounds him has built his ego.  Told him nothing is impossible.  That’s why I was so angry at myself for trying to discourage soccer.  Preston is truly Mr. Mayor everywhere he goes.  The kids that are older in the after school program adore him and not one person has ever bullied him-in fact there are times Preston has been the aggressor. 

My advice? You have to try to stop being sad.  You were chosen for a reason.  Your child may get teased.  I’m average height.  I was teased for having big hair and wearing blue eye shadow.  I turned out ok.  Your child may struggle a little bit to get what comes naturally for others.  But on the flip side who says being tall is the answer? My brother is six foot five.  He told me he always hated being the tallest.  The tallest was the one singled out in school if there was a ruckus.  You can’t undo the achon, you have to just accept it.  It’s not going away.  You may hear some hurtful, disgusting, things.  Vent to your POLP family.  What parent at some point won’t see their child get hurt?  I was talking to Emily and she said something so awesome and I hope she doesn’t mind me sharing.  She says when she catches someone looking at Seamus she is so proud he is hers.  That sums up my feelings too.  I couldn’t of said it better.  I am so proud I am Preston’s mom.  I’m not saying you’ll always think it’s fair, but what in life is fair?  It’s going to be ok.  It may be a hard hurdle, but I never woke up in the morning saying, “Ah, Monday. And Preston has dwarfism.”  It just all starts fading away and at some point, you just never think about it.

So why did I cry after the kindergarten test?  Because my wish came true.  I just wanted people to love my son, accept my son, have my son accept himself.  I saw that wish 100% that day.  I can’t say anymore other than: