The Power of a Negative Statement

My son's birthday is this weekend. Wyatt is going to be FOUR! FOUR! How did four years go by so fast? I'm trying to embrace every moment, but I've got be honest, it makes me absolutely sick to my stomach that year #5 is coming up, then kindergarten, then first grade. I want to puke just thinking about it. It makes me think a lot about the last 4 years and a little bit before that, and how I wish I spent a little more time focusing on him and not so much time dealing with crap.


A couple of weekends ago, we finally started cleaning out the study. Those of you who are subjected to my endless Facebook posts know that I am trying to clean, organize, or re-purpose that room at least once a week. As we went through the piles of junk we came across a large envelope, containing these:

These are x-rays of my poor little boy's cone head when he was born. As I looked at these pictures, emotions and memories came swarming back to me about those first few moments of my little guy's life.

Hanging on to Wyatt during my pregnancy was a tough long road. 2 long months of bedrest, only getting up every 2 hours for 10 minutes only, weekly trips for fetal monitoring, medication every 6 hours, even at 1 AM, and 3 ER visits. It was the hardest moments of my life. Then my little man was born! 4 hours of labor, and though I had NO IDEA what I was doing, I figured I had survived the worse!
Wyatt was born with this incredible cone head! It was terrible! But every doctor and nurse who came in said, "Oh Sweetie, he's fine. That little head is normal, and it'll go down in no time." Then 2 weeks later at Wyatt's first well check, it all changed. The power of a negative statement is amazing. You can have 5 million people telling you positive things all day long, but the moment one person says the opposite, you immediately doubt everything you know. A young naive pediatrician looked at my son's head and said, "I think his skull is fused that way." What are you supposed to think when someone tells you that? I don't really remember saying anything but, "OK, OK, yeah, OK." But before I knew it, I had my 2 week old baby in a radiology office around old sick people. That's where these great shots were taken. He looks alien, doesn't he? Every time I looked at them, I thought, "That's not my little boy." And now, obviously, we all know that to be true. This story has so much more to it, family members with positive attitudes, those willing to listen and act to a spiritual prompting, a neurosurgeon to had the ability to explain that my son was completely fine and not in danger of anything, and the power of prayer and blessings.
Thanks for letting me share these moments. I hope that I can be the best mom in the world to Wyatt, and I hope to remember all that I went through to have him and keep him, and not be distracted by anything else.