Tuesday, June 19, 2012
There's an easy metaphor here for our own process of coming to terms with hypochondroplasia. J and I are coming from very different places, but I know we're on parallel paths. I'd say these paths will lead to the same destination, but there isn't really a final stop, is there? It's a life-long journey for our Belalu. I've been thinking these past few days about raising a girl and how it is going to be a challenge to make sure she knows her self worth and values her intelligence and wit (because I can already see she is overflowing with both). And I wonder about body image, which is already so complicated for women in our society. There is a period of social development when most girls are loath to be different, and she will not be able to hide her difference behind the usual masks girls use. I see it as my job to make sure she has a solid, iron-clad sense of worth, confidence, and the insight to see beyond the rough patches. Whew. Deep breath.
If I get overwhelmed as I think about it, I just call on her wisdom. One step at a time. Pull up, fall on your butt, lean on others who are stronger, get up again, move forward.