Change

I look at pictures from before the diagnosis. Chucky Cheese, everyone smiling, except for a screaming Kai(k-y) who seems to just be trying to get away. I see him smiling in a video at 3 months, before i knew. I look at pictures from my difficult pregnancy and I am smiling. I had no clue everything wasn’t going to be just wonderful. sure things were rocky in my pregnancy but i just knew lil Malakai was a fighter and he’d get here through hell or high water. and he did, he made it into my arms, with his flaming red hair. and he was perfect. not that he isn’t now, he hasn’t changed a bit. we have. he’s been given a label. a label that fits. a label that explains why he was so easy to teach to sleep in his own bed at night, when were still desperately trying to keep our 5 old out of ours. it explains why our Rowen jumps from curtains to couches and back again while Malakai is content spinning the wheels of a monster truck quietly for hours on end. it explains his love for Spongebob, and his silly dance. it explains why he has lost all the words he had learned in his first year. explains his love for a toilet and running water. his constant spinning. his lack of interest in other children.... and everything that just made Kai, Kai. nope he hasnt changed. he still likes to throw things in the toilet. he likes to hide my keys, and steal other people’s house phones. his mittens still go on his feet and he’s happy sitting in the floor stacking blocks till they topple over. our calendar has changed... doctors appointments, notes, therapies, office numbers, fax numbers, peoples names, and office addresses. his room has changed. you can see everything. his clothes aren’t in your typical dresser but rather a plastic bin, so that he can see his clothes. a makeshift schedule hangs in the hallway... nothing set in stone yet. I’ve changed, my eyes are sometimes puffy and red, and I am a more patient with him. I am learning sign language. I am putting together picture books, and organizing like there is no tomorrow. it’s almost like nesting all over again. in a way I am preparing for a new child. even though he hasn’t changed a bit.