A Poopy Diaper
I had had a severe stroke 8 weeks before he was born. My firstborn son was 2 years old. I was 35.
We were fortunate to be able to hire live in help to care for the babies while I was initially confined to a wheelchair. The first few months were a very dark period. It was nothing like I had pictured being a mother to 2 baby boys would be.
I made slow progress in my recovery. I was able to walk with a cane and a brace on my leg. My left arm was useless.
There were occasional, short periods when I found myself alone with one or the other baby.
One day when the “baby” was about a year old I found myself home alone with him.
He pooped in his diaper. I knew he could live with it until help arrived to change it.
Instead, I insisted he cooperate with me in getting it cleaned up. I hobbled around the house after a toddler who had just figured out how to walk. He was vastly better at walking than I was. I knew I couldn’t pick him up to get him onto the changing table even if I could catch him.
I made a game out of getting him up onto the couch in the living room. The changing table was nearby with diapers and wipes. Using only my right hand and stubborn determination I changed that shitty diaper.
That historic diaper change tells the story of my persistent refusal to be defeated. I used that mindset to go on over the course of 20 years to rebuild my life. I have not recovered 100%, but I’ve lived a full, happy life where I was able to be a mother to 2 miraculous sons.
Thank you for reading :)