Stupid RTT

I saw this video today.

I was really emotional watching it, especially after yesterday, when Gabe and I went to a friends' house for a birthday party for their daughter. There were many 2-year olds there amidst the sea of 5-year olds, and for the first hour I was okay. Then the second hour rolled around, and I thanked God for the sunny day and my aviator sunglasses, because my eyes became more puffy and swollen. By the third hour, I had Manny come to finish the party because I couldn't stay. Seeing the healthy 2-year old boys and girls having so much fun was too much for me to bear.

I jumped in the car and took a drive, and the further I drove the harder I cried. What would Anna tell me if she could speak? What would she sing? Would she walk or run everywhere? Would she like to swing? What nicknames would she have for things? I longed for the normal days of Gabe's toddler years, where everyday was a new reveal of his likes and dislikes, his laughs and cries. His Mommy's and Daddy's and trying new foods and crawling into bed with us. Watching those toddlers, with their chubby legs and stubby toes, participating with their big brothers and sisters, was too much... too much...

I felt like Rett Syndrome was this evil spirit, taunting me, in the front row, with healthy children my Anna's age. I let it win yesterday. A special party and fun day with my other baby, now big boy Gabriel, was ruined as I tried to hide in a corner behind my glasses and a half smile. I made no effort to speak to anyone, because if I did the ball that was lodged in my throat would come undone. One mom asked, "How is your little girl?" I replied, "Great!!" almost too excitedly, almost too fake, almost sarcastically. I was happy she didn't ask anything else. I moved chairs after grabbing a glass of water. 

Even today, I remain melancholy, and desperately hope that those fun events will never be that hard again, and that I no longer look at what Anna doesn't have, but at what she does. Sometimes, it's just not that easy.