My Son.

This is my boy. He isn't perfect, but he is mine. I am sure all parents think their kid is special... but mine is. He doesn't let little things get him down. He was born unable to sweat, has eczema, and only has 5 teeth. Other than that, he is pretty normal. He complains, he whines, he pushes every button in my body. But at the end of the day, he makes me laugh.

I started this blog for 2 reasons....

The first to help put a face to HED, and help other parents out their know they are not alone. This genetic disorder does not come with a handbook, but it does come with a tight knit group who band together to help raise their kids knowing that they are not alone, and they are loved and special.

The second, was just to share the crazy antics that this little person has brought into my life. Let's face it... kids are scary and weird... and mine, well... he is one weird little monkey. The things he comes up with... well, you just can't make this crap up.





I just knew...

The moment you realize you are pregnant, a million things go through your mind. What will you name the baby, is it a boy or a girl... but I just didn't feel it. All I could wrap my mind around was will I keep it. I just had this feeling this wasn't going to be easy. I'm not talking about adoption, or abortion. My main goal was to stay pregnant. I just had a feeling.

I didn't make plans, I didn't decorate, pick out names, or even talk to my belly. I had this overwhelming need to detach from the situation. I couldn't tell anyone. I was so afraid they would only see me as cold, and I didn't want my mothering instincts questioned. I feared... I was the only one.

So, I would go to the Dr. and just nod and get through it. I told them I didn't want to know the sex of the baby. I'm sure I'm not the first parent who wanted the "surprise" of it all. But I had another reason. I have HED.

Hypohydrotic Ectodermal Dysplasia is a genetic disorder that affects the hair, skin, nails, teeth, and the ability to sweat. I was born with it, so were my 2 sisters, and my mother. I know science. I know genetics, and the probability of me passing this disorder down. Being an X linked disorder and knowing my mother, my sisters and I all have it... I had a feeling if I had a son, it would be inevitable. I was scared.

I believed if I knew the sex of the baby... I would just dwell on it, the entire pregnancy. So I didn't ask. I pushed through. I went into preterm labor about 5 times, had renal failure, and spent along time in the hospital making payments on my Doctor's Benz. But I knew he wouldn't let me down.

I wasn't even worried for one moment about the C-section. But I was worried about the HED. I just knew. I begged the pediatrician to look for signs. I begged for them not to use an incubator. You see, our body temperatures usually run a little cooler. I was afraid if he seemed cool they would try to warm him, and in turn he would react, overheat, have a seizure, and suffer brain damage. So I was worried.

I just knew.

My son was born on a warm sunny day in July. Everything went according to plan. One month early, but a healthy 7 lbs 6 oz, and 21.5 inches long. He was big, healthy, and most importantly he was here, alive, and mine.

But, I just knew.

The peeling skin, the saddle nose, and when I looked at him... I just knew. My son had HED, and I gave it to him. It was going to be a rough road, but when I saw him... I just knew... everything would work out.

What does that even mean?

I had a friend once ask me.. "What does that even mean?"

Well, it is kinda like my philosophy.. yeah even I have one of those. So here goes...

"I'm not saying... I'm just saying" pretty much sums it up for me. I tell it how it is. There is no sugar coating nothing sweetie. If you want me to hold your hand, or tell you everything is peachy, it just aint goona happen. It is time to get over it and deal. My mom calls it "puttin on your big girl panties". But the whole concept of a blog called "shit my mom says.." was already taken.

I don't have all the answers. If I did. I wouldn't need my therapist. But I have seen a lot, and have had to learn to be creative... or I'd go mad. And I know I am not alone. So I figure... why not share. If it makes ya laugh.. or gives you that feeling of not being alone.. or hey.. wow my life could be worse (look at this lady). Then I can end the day on a positive note.

I am not some part-time Dr. Phil. I am not some person who has always dreamed of being a writer. Nope, honestly I just fancy myself an average American, just trying to get by. Although I have made my living in the fields of science and medicine; I fancy myself an artist. I love photography, drawing, and singing. But most important... I am a mom. I have 1 child... why? Because I am a quick learner... yup... that's where babies come from!

I never thought of being a mom. I was too selfish, not to mention terrified of children. But as fate would have it... I learned to face that fear. I have this strange ability to handle things that would make most people run. I assisted in pediatric autopsies, I sang in front of 2,000 people, I keep cool in the strangest of scenarios. But the one thing I was positive I would never be mentally equipped to handle was motherhood. My mother ran a daycare and I would have panic attacks on my way home from school... dreading the diapers and sticky little fingers.

Don't get the wrong idea, I love my son, and of all the things that I have done, or will do; he is by far my greatest accomplishment, challenge, and treasure. He makes me smile when I can't... and find strength when I have none left. 

But seriously... kids are scary... not "Zombie Apocalypse" scary, more "Alien vs. Predator" scary.

I'm not saying... I'm just saying.