N(not)

Avg Joe’s son Zack making a speech in front of a crowd.

another, my kid is great story.

Time flies by so quickly and for a parent before we know it our baby is an adult.   With the permission of my one and only son, I have the honor of telling two stories of his miraculous life.

I start first with that little doubt that rolls in all parents heads.  It gets set off when those nauseating stories are heard when someone talks or posts pictures about how great their child is.   Some parents today are so full of, or lack thereof, their own DNA pride they seem to have to prove it to the world through their children.   But where did it really come from and why do some get that ‘gifted’ child, and some not?   Why is a Lebron James body born in one family and a Mr. Bean in another?

A study is rolling in China on ‘Why are some people so smart’.    Evidence points to IQ which is argued that it is shaped in our DNA and cannot be altered.  Critics claim that life outcomes have more to do with culture and environmental circumstances than with innate intellectual ability.  Will giving your daughter or son a brand new BMW for graduating from high school (I cannot believe how many pics of such happenings I see here in my area) make them successful in life or just spoiled?

All I know is for my own family is we were so fortunate to have a second child, period.   Many have had the heartbreak of having no children or special needs children have made their world an extra but rewarding challenge. When we look at how our boy was brought into the world – we count our blessings.

Our awesome daughter was born 11 months after we were married and the thoughts of having that big Catholic type family seemed like our destiny.  But three miscarriages later, the really awful kind happening months into the pregnancies, dampened our spirits.  Something about autoimmune issues (that doctors knew little about at that time) were present.  We studied deeply to find out why my wife’s body did not like the male babies she was carrying in her body.  No doctor’s at the time had a solution to our problem so we gave up.  We decided going through that depression bringing trauma again was not something we wanted to do.   We asked God, why, and received no answers.  My wife chewed on depression, I gnawed at bitterness.

The thought never departed that maybe there was a solution.   Research revealed years later that some meds taken during the pregnancy could possibly prevent the immune system thingy from killing our babies.  One doctor was a specialist in the area and was willing to work with us.  We were very anxious about the whole idea but gave it a try.  10 months later, but after twice daily black and blue producing shots in the thigh of my poor wife, our son was born.   We had a miracle child.

He has grown to be smart, witty, kind, handsome, caring, creative, insightful, and so much more.  As DNA goes and maybe all that worry we carried around with us produced a great child that had a touch of shy and a lot of worry built-in.   Like his Dad and Mom, he had a ton of inner anxiety, despite doing and trying every possible how not to be anxious trick,  it was part of his DNA.

Of all the crazy things to happen – when he was in first grade a kid barfed in his Crocs.   This must have triggered memories of when he puked in front of a group of people at a resort pool.  In second grade  a kid puked in his own backpack after a school bus ride.  Third grade, first day of school, a kid pukes on his desk on his papers.   I only recall these stories, and seriously, at least ten more incidents just like these happened, to explain what we later discovered.  Who’d think a little hairball upchuck from a cat would cause a kid to run to his bedroom?  We with our four cats have the orange stains on our carpets to show the many times that happened.  It is no wonder he developed what later, a $100 an hour session, revealed a diagnoses for the most bizarre phobia any of us have heard of – Emetophobia – Fear of Vomit. You think I’m kidding, read all about it here.

As I sat listening to my son do a twenty-minute thesis presentation on the last day of school to his class this past week it took every bit of strength I had to not burst out in tears with a flush of pride and overwhelming relief. (funny, only after getting home, my wife told me she was sick the whole morning worrying about HIS speech.  She was unable to make it to the class although she wanted to very badly).  WE had made it through years of bullies picking on him in school trying to bring him to a panic stage.  The days of kids making throw up noises during lunch that would cause him to not ever want to eat in a cafeteria were over.  The making fun of his crawling into a shell of protection from the taunts of ‘you are a baby’, a wimp, nervous dude, and hearing ‘what is wrong with you’, were a thing of the past  (all things we only found out later were said often, actually).

Before the speech he gave in front of his homeschooled cohorts, (which of course he had to be the last one to go and thus sit for two hours and ruminate about it), I could see the anxiety brewing in his mind, body, and face.  On the breaks I reminded him of all the steps he and we had learned on how to overcome a panic attack.     He said little, but I knew what he was thinking, especially post one of his classmates beforehand had joked about feeling like she was going to vomit.

Not only did he get through the speech, he nailed it and looked as calm as could be the whole time.  Our miracle baby had grown up and made it through his tumultuous (as Websters defines tumultuous – highly agitated, as the mind or emotions; distraught; turbulent) life.

Not to us be the glory for getting him through a difficult life.  Probably now you are thinking, what is so miraculous about getting through a high school grad day speech? Sure he was born when he probably shouldn’t have been for miracle one.  But what is the second miracle deal?

For now, you can stop and leave out the God did something different story, and revel that it is pretty cool that anxious kids can make it through life, but big deal.   Or read on if you dare to hear the other side of what we know was a miracle…

If this is your first time visiting Average Joe’s Portico, every post is written in two parts. You have just read the portion challenging the mind, body, and soul.  In The Portico I seek to tap into your spiritual side, but only IF YOU DARE.  Tap the Red Line Below. to hear the Spiritual side of the story.  (For more info – read the ‘Do You Dare’ Tab)