How I Stopped Worrying About My Preemies' Development (And Learned To Love Them The Way They Are)

Lately, I’ve really been hit by the reality of the girls’ prematurity. They’re smaller, chubbier, and have less of that sassy toddler independence I see so often in other 2 year olds. They still need a huge nap a day, they still have a bottle in the morning, and they aren’t yet ready for potty training even though I’d planned for them to be there by their 2^nd birthday. 

But this is what I’m learning: regardless of your plans, the universe has something different in mind. Much in the way that last year I had to reconcile myself to the fact that they wouldn’t walk by their first birthday, this year I’m having to face the other milestones they won’t hit by their second. And that’s okay. Because ultimately, their health and progress is a miracle in itself−while other 2 year olds were developing in the womb, my girls were in incubators for months, their development disturbed every single time they were touched. Every time a diaper was changed, a feeding tube filled or replaced, medicine administered, blood taken or given, the girls’ growth was slowed and their fragile environment altered. Instead of a head start, they had to wait behind, and that continues to plague them now 22 months after their early arrival.

But I refuse to be brought down by this, or to allow them to be either. Their prematurity is not a handicap, and I won’t let it be. I refuse to be discouraged by the odd stares people give us when we say they’ll be two in July. Or the way the doctor says they’re a little short for their age. Or how the only thing they like about their potties is that they can sit on them−anything beyond that is out of the question, for now.

And this is where I’ve learned that faith is so important−if their prematurity has shown me anything, it’s that believing in their ability to overcome obstacles is sometimes the best way to help them. Eventually, they will catch up, and most importantly: they don’t even know that they’re behind. The best thing I can do for them is to not know it either; to stop marking milestones, stop comparing them to other toddlers, and more than anything to START celebrating how far they’ve come. As far as their growth is concerned, while it might fall somewhere between their actual age and their corrected age, that doesn't mean I need to be somewhere between joy and sadness, between pride and guilt. 

Instead, I will recognize them as they are, and take joy in it. Much like their personalities, their development is unique to the world, and one day that might be the very thing that makes them stand out. And I will be there, forever their cheerleader, when it does. 

"by being yourself, you put something wonderful in the world that was not there before."
-Edwin Elliot