New Year's Eve Mile

I wanted to create an inspiring title for this post but really its kind of hard. Everyone and their brother is  posting about New Years resolutions and motivation to make the next year better than the last. Truth is, I ran a mile on New Year's Eve... that's right. 1 mile. Took me 11 minutes. My college running teammates are probably all laughing. We used to run 2 miles about that fast. It's not the amount that I ran that matters today. It's the reason I ran and what my emotions were during the run that even make me want to write about it.

A year ago, the same day, I ran 5 miles. I ran on a local trail with my husband (who was forcing me to run it) in the dark, he was pushing our son while holding a flashlight. I was crying. A LOT of tears, I would have rather been on the couch eating cupcakes... and doing that wallowing thing I do so well. I ran as hard as my legs would take me, mostly to end the madness of my husband forcing me to get outside. The last three months had brought us, what I thought would be some of the roughest months for a long time. Dathan, in September was diagnosed with a rare Anti-Diuretic hormone deficiency. He was drinking 10-15 cups of water a day and not backing down. In fact, if we didn't give him the water he wanted he was using his legos to get water out of the toilet and sipping out of the dogs water bowl. I know, gross huh? We knew something was wrong but we didn't know what? The deficiency is most often caused by a tumor on the brain... or something wrong with the kidneys not being able to process it. We spent the next 3 months ruling out a tumor or anything wrong with his brain or kidneys. He is part of the 1% who genetically does not produce the hormone, he will take the synthetic hormone for the rest of his life. He doesn't retain water unless he takes the hormones, dehydration for him can happen very quickly. We are so thankful that he is healthy otherwise... but imagine the heartbreak 2 runner parents were feeling when we found out our little dude will probably need a little more caution when it comes to running. That was the sweet part of last year.
Then, 2 days before Christmas last year we had a miscarriage, we were going to announce to our family that we were due with baby #2. We were 11 weeks 4 days, so we had almost made what we thought was the "safe" mark to tell people. It would be the perfect announcement, Dathan had a shirt that read "Only child expiring soon..." We didn't totally waste our money I ripped out the "expiring soon" part and he wore that Only Child shirt for the rest of the winter. What can I say we're a frugal family. We didn't announce anything and I tried really hard to enjoy Christmas and be thankful for what I had, a healthy family.

Fast forward a few months when we thought our "hard year" was behind us. I put "hard year" in quotes because even through those times I actually never really thought we had it that hard. I was truly accepting of the plans laid out for us. We got on with life. Dathan on his meds was a new man (you know, not drinking from puddles or toilets anymore) and since we live where we live... access to fresh water is abundant. I kept imagining my little guy in another country. He would have died very young of dehydration living anywhere but here.

September of this year we got the diagnosis of Spina Bifida. Diagnosis day, called D-day among 'Bif mom's, yeah, I'm a mom of a kid with Spina Bifida.The kind who has embraced my fancy new title and can use hashtags like #embracethebif and #TTSB (take that Spina Bifida).  I will write about D-Day later, because it deserves its own post. Finding out your baby has something wrong is pure devastation, what you don't know is your baby is perfect and will bring you more joy than you can even imagine. People came from everywhere to let us know that they were praying for our family and our baby. Sending us letters, emails, notes, anything to let us know that our baby will amaze us and that we were not alone. Meals were made, cupcakes brought, my son was taken care of, my husband was taken care of... our community of friends (and new friends who were strangers) and our family showed us how much they cared. What I thought was the worst news... turned out to be one of the greatest blessings to ever happen to us. You are all a part of Dakota's story. All of you praying for us when we didn't even know what we were praying for. Praying for our miracle. We discovered that the plans we had for our perfect family were not even close to the plans God had to give us the perfect family. Dakota was the perfect ending to this year. She sent us on a roller coaster of a ride but we got to where we were supposed to be this year... a family of 4.

So, this year I ran 1 mile to celebrate the last year. It wasn't an easy year (or, let's be honest, an easy mile) but it was all worth it... I'm being cliche in saying I would do it all over again (not that first mile, that mile was painful). BUT this year, I would do it all over again. I would do it differently. I would have worried less and prayed more. I would have enjoyed being pregnant and eaten cupcakes in celebration of Dakota Grace.  I would  have been excited for her arrival and less stressed about what would be wrong with her. I would have announced her sooner and bought important things like pink outfits, cute hats, oh... and a car seat. I would have had a cute way to reveal her gender and not her diagnosis... I would, I would, I would. Hindsight is 20/20.

On that note, my other "blessing" is putting his feet in my nose asking me "do my feet smell delicious?" while sucking all the flavor off of honey roasted peanuts and spitting them back in the jar. Based on the smell of his feet, its time I focus on parenting and not this blog for a few days.

I should title this "Smelly Feet" and call it inspiration...