Walking Shoes

Staring at him sleeping ever so peacefully my heart borders on the brink of explosion. His story, our story, our worlds morphed into one, and my mothers love spreads farther then that of the largest ocean.
From a trauma at birth to a selfless love of a birth mother to a perfectly timed adoption to an infection caught in the nick of time to... well, today. Here, now, I get to be his mother and I get to be part of the story of his uncrushable goals. He is driven and determined with such splendid effervescence.
Emmanuel is, along with the family are slowly but surely learning some sign language. He has a few words that are favorites like 'more', 'eat', 'please', 'thank you', and his newest favorite is 'shoes'. Fully understanding what was upcoming and the outcome of being able to wear shoes following surgery Emmanuel has been focused on shoes. Without fail every trip to any store that sells shoes he has to touch them and hold them up to his feet. Until just yesterday that was a far out of reach goal, honestly a strong doubt for me. Nevertheless I let him hold those shoes and embrace the dream he had.
Thankfully for my sanity, the busyness of opening a second Peak Physique (no we are not the owners), a few foster kiddos, and a multitude of parenting dilemmas I had little time to dwell on the fear and doubt I carried.
The morning of surgery went miraculously smooth from getting out of the house and traffic to Emmanuel not being bothered that he couldn't eat. He was all smiles and hugs and kisses for the nurses. He even raced his favorite nurse who happens to be in a wheel chair too. Jason held up beautifully without completely passing out as person after person came in to repeat in detail what they were going to be doing in the operating room.

Emmanuel squealed with delight as each new person came in declaring them "his". I thought he was just being his happy self but I now believe different. He understood every single word and with a peace I envied and excitement seeping from his pores, he was ready!  He wanted to get those walking shoes!
I held it together exceptionally well all the way into the O.R. as he drifted off to sleep with a smile on the entire time and patting the nurse' hand reassuring her it was okay. Then it happened, a nurse said "I'll walk you out" and the floodgates opened. All the 'what if's' and doubting fears fought to take over as the tears just fell. "What if the surgery didn't work and they couldn't get his feet flat'? and "what if he would never be able to wear shoes?"
Thankfully my husband was as hungry as a bear straight out of hibernation and had mere moments to get food or someone was going to be in danger. This "hangry bear" pulled me out of my tear-filled funk. After filling our bellies we began our 8 hour wait for our son to come out of surgery.
The first call came informing us that his Botox and Phenol injections went smooth and were all done and they would be starting the surgery with updating us every hour and a half. The second call came and things were going well, really well, in fact the nurse said the doctors were "very proud of themselves for some reason" and she would call again in another hour and a half. Less then a hour later the third call came in informing us that the reason the doctors were cheering is that they were done and were closing!
The nurse asked if we had any questions. My voice quivering I said "Yes, we have just one, are his feet flat?" She could hardly get out the word "yes" before she began to sob along with me.
His dream, his goals, his faith are undeniably solid.
Let the shoe shopping begin!!