broken bones are everywhere

Oct 13, 2013

My little Fisher broke his arm on Friday at gym. He is in a lot of pain, not horrendous amounts, but a lot nonetheless. We were quite the sight at the doctor’s office with my big ‘ol robot looking boot, my hip that won’t allow me to sit, and his limp arm.

He was given a priesthood blessing by some of the fathers at gym before I took him in for x-rays and after the blessing he said, “I heard the most important part.” I asked him what that was and he replied “God loves me and I am not going to be scared.”

Tears from mama.

Isn’t that we all want for our children? For them to know that God loves them and is with them always so they don’t need to be scared.

He has been so, so brave. He is a trooper. I am so proud of him and his simple trust in his Heavenly Father. He is such a kind, loving boy who desires to do good and be good. I think his arm will heal quickly and he will back to normal in no time at all, but he will be at a new normal where he will have more compassion for those who are hurting. His prayers and those of his sisters have been so tender the past couple of nights as they have prayed for God to heal his arm. Somehow his broken arm is a lot more impactful on all of them than my broken foot – I guess they kind of view mine as par for the course!

Meanwhile I am trying to not feel guilty about the state of his bones. I know I did not nourish him well in the womb as he has always been deficient in calcium. I had just been through five miscarriages and was terribly ill his entire pregnancy. Survival was the name of the game. I did not eat well and my body was seriously lacking in mineral stores from the repeated miscarriages. I just need to focus on gratitude for his presence in my life and let the guilt for not building a perfect body for him go.

The good and bad – he is especially loving his inability to unload the dishwasher and especially not loving the inability he has to play with legos.

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