My Nemesis

The picture: Zoé literally crashed on the hardwood floor when she got up the stairs, exhausted after school and speech therapy. She napped for 3 solid hours! I added the pillow and blanket after she dozed off in Morpheus' arms.

I never thought my nemesis would be in fecal matters. I never thought I'd be fighting a potty for 4 years, and yet, today at school, when I picked up Zoé she was wearing different clothes than those in which she had come to school that morning...so I knew. The pain ebbed and then flowed. I had to speak to her teacher. The decision was made, Zoé is simply going to wear pull-ups everyday. For how long? Only time will tell.
With that said, I don't know any college students who graduate in diapers, so I guess it will happen. But like everything with Zoé it will be in her own time.
I won't battle anymore.
However, I burst into tears when I spoke to her teacher. It is just so depressing, you have no idea. I don't know who "you" are out there reading the blog (people maybe now pissed off a bit about the poop talk), but I have to say, nobody knows how hard it is. When shit like that happens, excuse my language but I think the pun was intended, it just brings me down completely.
We've bypassed the "She is so cute, how old is she?" to the "yes, she has little issues with her BMs (Bowel Movements). One needs an acronym, it's not proper to say: poop, shit, fecal matters is another nice one.
Anyway, as you can tell, I'm down.
Yet, Zoé's teacher called me at home tonight and asked me how she could help Zoé, what tools she needed to address issues of: lack of concentration, tiredness, distraction. I was flabbergasted that a teacher would take the time to call me to discuss Zoé. I even shared the blog address. How many teachers would take the time after hours to discuss a student with their mom? I thanked her for her insight, her devotion and how we can work as a team to help Zoé.
The interesting question she asked is one I've been avoiding for so long: "Does Zoé know she is different?" I don't think so, or does she? It is something we never discussed with Zoé. We already get those from people on the street.
I always thought I'd cross that bridge when I got to it.
How can I explain it to Zoé?
How will she take it? In stride? Or as the hand we were dealt. Yes, it's what I've been discussing with David. We were not really lucky, from the start the difficulty to conceived, the long ovarian odyssey, the trauma of 5 IUIS, 3 IVFs, and then our joy shattered the day they took Zoé from us. Day 2 of her life!
And now almost 4 years to that day, we have to consider what it is that we are going to tell her?
I am myself affected and it pains me to think of the things I used to be able to do, that are now hard: running, carrying heavy loads (Though I can still carry Zoé who is 35 pounds of dead weight--but I think that is my mother instinct that won't let me let go of her), though it is harder and harder. The fact that I cannot open zip-locks and that my head droops at the end of the day, so be it. I can live with that.
The fact that I have to take Miralax everyday so that I can fight chronic constipation, it's something I've dealt with my whole life.
But how am I to tell Zoé? What am I to tell her?
The teacher did mention that kids look, and make comments, not just about Zoé, about kids in general, but there will be a time when the comments and the stares will be focused on Zoé. We already get those from people on the street.
I want to make her strong, I want to make her invincible to the bullying, I want her to stand up tall and rejoice for who she is, for what she stands for.
I am scared.
The other day, an old lady I often see in my neighborhood walking her dog, stopped right in front of my garage. I opened my window and told her i would wait for her to cross, and she asked me if I could drive her home. She has a form of cerebral palsy and uses a walker to walk around the neighborhood. So I unloaded my groceries, let her dog into my trunk, folded her walker into the car and as she sat in front she showed me the way. I noticed she had a letter in her hand so I told her I would mail it for her.
After dropping her home, Zoé asked me why we had offered her a lift. I explained that one should always help those in needs, that the woman was having a difficult time going home and that we could easily help her. Zoé was happy to know that we had helped her.
I simply hope one day someone will help Zoé in such a way.