He walks again

Sam would stand, wobbly, in full concentration, just like he did when he was 13 months old. Then he would try to go, but his little right leg would buckle, still not used to movement after spending nearly four weeks in his cast.

"I'm OK!" he would say good-naturedly, and climb right back up again. He knew not to try again right then, but a few hours later, or maybe the next day, he'd go for it. I am constantly impressed with his good humor, his coping abilities and just his sheer determination.

The doctors said it would be three or four weeks before he'd start walking around, and then he'd probably drag the right leg around with him.

Last night as I was getting Iliana ready for bed, I heard Jim say, "Rachel?!" in that tone of voice that means I need to get in there right away. But I happened to be getting a rare and precious Iliana bear hug, so I was going to need more than that. "Come here!"

Then I heard, "Mommy! I can walk again!"

Iliana and I both jumped up and ran out of her room just in time to see Sam, looking awestruck himself, hobbling toward us. "I can walk again!"

Iliana and I both clapped and cheered, and she even jumped up and down and said, "Good job, buddy!"

It sounds made up, but I swear it, this is what happened. I'm so moved by her grace and support of him. I love her so much.

The look on Sam's face was almost just like the first time he went for it, and walked to me almost two years ago. I remember the Bob Dylan onesie he was wearing and his expression perfectly. I actually managed to get a picture of that joy and pride, mixed with a little bit of wild fear at this newfound skill, and the liberation and separation that would come with it.

I guess that was the only difference. There was no trace of fear this time, just pure joy and pride, and still the amazement that it was actually happening. It's been since January 14 since he last walked, and to a not-yet 3-year-old, that must seem a long time.

The doctors had said it would take three to four weeks until he walked. Last night it was one week and four days after the cast had come off. I am so proud.

He hobbled all over the house, saying, "I'm doing it! I'm walking!" When I told him it was time to read a book before bed, he said, "I don't want a book! I want to walk!"

He is not dragging his right leg, it's just a little wobbly, and he's getting used to the length discrepancy.

It is even more striking how much longer his right leg is than his left leg now that he's walking, when it used to be the other way around. He is having to learn to compensate the other way, so I'm glad the surgeries will be close together so he won't be thrown off again when the legs match in length.

Already I had been struck by how much he has been preferring his right leg since the surgery, when he used to prefer the left, I'm assuming because the angle was less severe. So even with the pain of surgery, and the lack of mobility caused by the body cast, he still prefers his right leg now because intuitively he knows already it works better than his left. That is so telling to me.

It makes me feel so confident that surgery to correct the coxa vara was the right thing to do. I can't wait until he feels both legs moving the way so many of us take for granted.

I can't wait to see him running.

They say he might not necessarily be an athlete, and I don't care one way or the other, but I do know enough about my son to know if he wants to be an athlete, he will be one.

In fact, we've been watching Olympic snowboarding and both kids want Jim to teach them next winter. They're in awe of the fact that he once did a 540, and regularly did 360s. He says it might not be so easy now that a decade has past, but I think he'll surprise himself. I hope we can make this happen next winter.

I'm so grateful to have the fortune that this surgery is even an option.

I'm so grateful to have such amazing and graceful and wise-beyond-their-years children, and so grateful to have such an incredible husband.

I'm grateful to have such amazing friends and family who have been so supportive through all of this, gone to immeasurable extremes to give all of us a little more comfort.

I know this all is so trite, but it is what I feel. I feel so blessed that I don't even know how to process it. I don't even think I deserve to be this lucky, but I'm so thankful that I am.