Daring to dream

Sometimes at night I sing to Sadie when she's going to sleep. When I was little I remember my mom singing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" to me. So, I've recalled the words easily and that's one of the regulars I sing to Sadie. But a few nights ago I couldn't make it through without crying. It's the line "and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true."

That line gives the impression that you have to be brave to dream. And I've never thought about dreams this way. I don't know, maybe I've just never had any dreams big enough that I had to be brave to dream them. But I understand what this means now, because I have dreams for Sadie that I'm a little afraid of thinking about, because I'm so worried I'll be disappointed.

But I'm gonna be brave, and I'm going to share with you my dreams for Sadie that I dare to dream.

I want Sadie to be potty trained. We have such an amazing PT who has never once considered that this isn't possible. She even suggested that if Sadie can learn to tell us WHEN she has to go, we can have a special toilet seat that will support her even if she can't independently get into the bathroom or sit on the toilet by herself. I don't like the idea of changing big-kid diapers, so I really hope we can achieve this.

I want Sadie to be able to stand and possible walk 10-25 feet by herself. Even if she could do this with assistance I'd be happy. Most people probably haven't thought about what a difference this could make. If Sadie isn't exclusively confined to a wheelchair we don't need a wheelchair van. If she can stand and walk a little, even with assistance, she can get into the car. When we travel, if Sadie can walk from the end of the jetway to her seat, that means a lot less work to get her on the plane. It means potty training. It means getting what she wants/needs around the house without me having to wait on her every moment.

I want Sadie to be able to eat and drink without having to rely on her tube. In fact, what I'd really like is for Sadie to be able to feed herself. But if she's eating, I'll take what I can get.

And finally, I'd really like Sadie to be able to talk. If that means with the assistance of a computer, that works. But, I am really sick of trying to guess what she is yelling/crying about. I want her to be able to tell me, "mom, I want to go play on the floor," or "mom, I need something to eat," or even "mom, I have to go to the bathroom."

Of course I have no idea if these things are possible. I guess only time will tell. But they are safely held in my heart. And each time I sing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" to Sadie, I will wish with all my heart that there really is a place where all the dreams that I dare to dream really do come true.

Hopes and Dreams

So, I know everyone is DYING to hear about my race last Sunday (vain, right?), but I'm going to make you wait a little longer, because this is on my heart right now. I have a friend named Lexi (she likes to go by Lex now, but I refuse to call her this, she will always be Lexi to me) and she has been going through some rough times. But she is strong. What is interesting is how her facebook comments, although mostly ambiguous, perfectly reflect her mood. You could say she wears her heart on her sleeve, er, facebook page.

Anyway, this post is not about Lexi, I just bring her up because she wrote on her facebook page today that she has unrealistic hopes and dreams. I will save you my speculation about what that might mean, and directly apply it to my life.

Reading this made me think about my hopes and dreams for Sadie. Tonight we were in the tub and I was asking Sadie what she wants to be when she grows up. A scientist? A teacher? A musician? Because really, in my heart, I believe she can be ANY of these things. Is this unrealistic to hope for? Maybe.

But maybe not.

I think about this almost everyday all day long. Will she do great things from a wheelchair? Or will she dance with her daddy at her wedding? Will she learn to play the piano? Or will her hands continue to be restricted so that she becomes a singer instead? Will she show the world that a diagnosis doesn't mean a damn thing?

Maybe. Maybe not.

The important part is that I have these hopes and dreams, no matter how unrealistic they may be. Because they keep me alive. They keep me from pulling my hair out. The keep me from admitting myself to the loony bin. They keep me from sinking into a deep, dark depression.

I do know this for sure. Whatever Sadie turns out to be 1. She will be beautiful, and 2. We will love her.