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The One With All The Labels

My son is the light of my life. I love opening my eyes to his smile every morning and rocking him to sleep at night. He is so pure and innocent, yet so strong. As a new mom, he has taught me every single thing that I know. He reassures me and comforts me. He makes me feel each day that I have done something right, but I wish that I could shelter him from every bad thing that he will come to know.

Over time, I have learned that even babies aren't safe from labels. Luckily, Flynn is too little to realize this right now and I can protect him in every way that I can. Being born prematurely is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, especially because these babies defy all odds to simply survive. I have been surprised, though, by how some people can be so insensitive and unaccommodating.

Flynn and I love to go out and about. He gets excited to see new places and people and be with his friends, even if it means going to the doctor's office (again). On days where we are stuck inside, he is more cranky and gets super restless. Regardless of any of this, I refuse to keep my son inside simply because of other people. I have been approached, as I'm sure many mothers are at one point, and asked how old Flynn is. When I reply with his actual age, I receive responses such as, "He's so small! What's wrong with him?" or "Wow! He's really tiny. What did you do?" Do I owe anyone answers? No. There is nothing wrong with him. He is perfect. He is healthy. He is here. But it hurts and perpetuates the never-ending guilt that I carry. The fact that random strangers look at him and feel the need to point out how he's different is so painful. My heart breaks every time. Sometimes, I start crying. Sometimes, I stand in silence and stare. Sometimes, I walk away. I refuse to get into a fight in the middle of the mall because someone else is ignorant. They don't deserve our time and we don't owe someone else answers.

Occasionally, when I was tired of feeling the need to be defensive, I will respond by answering with Flynn's adjusted age. A baby's adjusted age is their chronological age minus the amount of weeks that he/she was premature. For example, Flynn is about to be 26 weeks and he was born 12 weeks early. This makes him about 3 months old adjusted. In the beginning, I didn't use this tactic because we took him out in public before his original due date. Responding with, "He's actually not here yet..." opens the door for some more invasive questions, as you could imagine. I did use it when he was just weeks old adjusted and was lectured that he shouldn't be out when he's so small. It was like no matter what I said, I just couldn't win. Then, of course, I would get upset with myself because I would never want Flynn to think that I was so ashamed of him that I felt the need to lie about his age. So now, I just respond with his real age.

Similar scenarios happen when someone asks how big Flynn is now. When you're the mother of a preemie, people are fixated on height and weight, more so that with a baby who was born full term. To be honest, I can say as one of these moms, we are, too. We are obsessed with progress because every little step means so much; every gram, every ounce, every pound. We are proud to say "He's almost twelve pounds!" and are defeated when the response is "Oh, that's tiny for his age." Well, he's certainly come a long way from being less than two pounds in the NICU.

"What size clothes is he wearing now?" people will ask. "He's rocking newborn these days!" says the proud mom whose son used to not be able to wear clothes because he was hooked up to so many wires. "Oh, I would have assumed that he would at least be in 3-6 months by now..." He will be eventually, so don't rush him. For months, he was swimming in preemie clothes. Newborn was a big step, so please enjoy his milestones just as you would if he were in bigger clothes for his age.

There are days where I feel that Flynn will be defined for his whole life. It seems to affect everything so far, even down to baby books where I have to leave sections and pages blank. As his mother, I am prepared for him to meet milestones at his own pace and I take nothing for granted. I just don't want him to look back at his baby book and feel that he is lesser than. I don't want him to ask why he doesn't have a labor and delivery story and feel less important. What I do want is for him to feel loved and accomplished and as proud as I am of him. He is worthy of that and worthy of a story told that celebrates him, which is what we'll do. He'll have his own one-of-a-kind book and I hope he marvels at his own story someday. I hope that he is so encouraged and is able to ignore those who try to minimize just how amazing and strong he is.

Because, to be honest, having Flynn has made me stronger. He was able to smile when I couldn't and everyone needs their own superhero.


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