GRATEFUL WEDNESDAYS – On Self Acceptance

Today, I am grateful for self acceptance

We are our greatest critics, we try in every way possible to be perfect. Well, news flash, we are not created perfect, ask God, he says we are created imperfect beings. Why then do we cause ourselves unnecessary anxieties and stress, trying to be something that is humanly impossible.

Those of us who know me enough, know that I am far from perfect, I stutter and those who know me more intimately know that this is something I struggle with. A normal day for someone else, see me struggling just to co-op with what some of us find it so easy to do, talk.

As someone who stammers, I carry scars from childhood. From being called names, to being laughed at and ridiculed and not being validated by my family (who I don’t blame one bit, because they did not know better, as they did not possess the tools necessary to deal with a family member that stammers). I remember deciding that I would not talk at all and you know what, I did stop talking for a while, as it made me tired, tired and helpless and I hated feeling that way.

I suffered great injustice in adulthood because of my stammer, some a result of just trying to make a living and so I tried hard to be someone I knew I wasn’t, a fluent person and caused myself a whole lot of anxiety and pain. The thing is, I knew the result would just be more pain and heartache for me and thought many times that it could only be easier to just accept myself for who I am. This I tried numerous times but it proved futile. I became angry with myself, that it drove me into developing a hobby in writing which I am working on to make it a career, because I find I am loving it.

I remember being extremely afraid to attend social gatherings because I just could not carry a conversation and so I would find every excuse to not attend these functions. Not to mention that my self-worth took a hard blow as I found myself struggling with stammering and dealing with the pangs of infertility. 

In 1993, I tried therapy because I shuddered at the thought of stammering on my vows. Therapy worked, at least for my wedding, as I only had a minor block on the word ‘impediment’  in the part ( ......”that I know not of any lawful impediment.......”) - how coincidental.  After this therapy, however, I had major regression, as I was so certain this would have worked. The thing is, I largely think, to this day, that therapy had only dealt with what could be fixed physically about my stammering, the embarrassment and shame was not fixed.

I am here to say today, that I will no longer be allowing my stammer to define me, Its not too late, is it? I am Annetta, do you know her, yes, the same one who stammers and you know what, I am fine with that, shame and embarrassment, you are on notice for eviction because I know this will still be a journey, as from time to time I will suffer setbacks.  Most importantly, I have been getting by and will continue to, now more than ever, because I have finally grasped what it means to truly accept myself for who I am.

After all, I have to do this now, because I have to be imparting to my son who stammers as well, the necessary life skills he needs to cope in an unforgiving world. Skills that I garnered from my tears, mistakes, anxieties and heartaches, on a long, winding and lonely road that persons with certain life struggles find themselves on.

I am grateful then for self acceptance.

My Infertility Story – Our triumph

As promised, meet our miracle baby, Theodore Ronald Norris Price. You might be wondering why the many names and why are they so strong. Well, Theodore means ‘gift of God’. Ronald is my father’s name and Norris, my husband’s father’s name. Our families came together for us in so much support and prayers during the pregnancy and so we saw it fit to honor them by giving our son the names of the patriarchs. Whenever we think of our son’s names, it is definitely a reminder of this and so we will never forget.

When we took Theodore home from the maternity home, I laid him down in the playpen and remember feeling so terrified as I did not know what next to do. I was so scared I would break him or something and so I just quickly put him down. I thought all the experience of babysitting my neighbors' children and my niece and nephews would count for something. Thanks to my mother-in-law, she supported us in such an amazing way and I drew heavily on her experience, having raised four boys and so in no time I jumped right in and did what every mother does naturally, take care of her baby. I also knew I had to get it right quickly as the rest of the world was waiting to meet our miracle baby.

I remember a few days after I had taken him home, I had just breastfed him and felt so overcome with joy that I began to cry. I was crying first out of joy and then I was crying for all women who are yearning for this great privilege and those who will never have it. Yes, I was crying for all of you, my readers experiencing infertility, as no woman should have to be sentenced (outside of their will) to a life of never experiencing a pregnancy, and so is never able to feel the emotions involved in staring in the face of a satisfied child after he has been breastfed. Or experience the intimacy of just holding your child, a child that came from your loins, someone so intimately connected to you, for all eternity.

Our son is now twenty months old and he is way ahead of his age. He is so helpful. In the mornings, he climbs on the back of the sofa and open the windows. Mind you those windows are intricate to open, but he manages to do it. His father usually lift him up to the chain for the ceiling fans and with instructions from him, he would pull on each of them and turn them on. I have since banned him from opening them though as he broke one and we had to get an electrician to fix it. He even helps us to pack out groceries but we have to watch him as he helps himself to stuff, my tomatoes does not stand a chance, he bites into them through the packaging. So you see, he actually has chores already and looks forward to doing them, well at least for now because I know when he is older, like every child, he will not want to do his chores. We have started encouraging him already by applauding his efforts so we hope that will encourage him to continue to want to help out in his little way around the house. Bless his little heart.

He loves turning on and off the television and changing channels etc., one day he went to turn it on and realized that it was not coming on. To my astonishment, he turned and looked up at the ceiling fan. Electricity was in fact gone and I was so amazed to see how he was able to actually figure that out and walked away from the television.

He is so daring and full of life, sometimes I wonder if we are enough to keep him safe, but as my mother-in-law remarked when I told her he had fallen off the bed before I could reach him, “God keeps them safe, he raises up the floor to them when they fall.” I believe that very much and I take comfort in it.

His favorite television shows are, Hi-5 and Mister Maker on Discovery Kids and The Ellen Degeneress Show and the game show, Deal or no Deal on NBC. He likes the Ellen show because he likes to dance. For Deal or no Deal, he likes when the participants say, “No Deal” he actually imitates them and it is such a precious moment to watch.

He is also a good footballer. He kicks with such force and precision. We see the World Cup in his future.

At nights, when he wants to sleep, he finds me and pull me to cuddle with him until he falls asleep and any night I do not get to do it, I feel so cheated, so disappointed, as I actually look forward to it. One day I said to him, do you know how special you are? I was certainly not expecting what I heard next, he said, ‘mm mm.’ I was astonished to say the least, it was so dead on, that I thought he actually understood what I was saying.

Last April I took him to daycare because I was starting a job. The Friday evening of the first week of the job I went to pick him up as usual and the lady at the daycare told me he had a slight fever and we are to watch it. I did not take it for anything, I thought he was just teething. Later that evening, the fever intensified and so we gave him some children’s panadol. This took the fever down but we realized that as soon as the medication wore off, the fever came back. It continued like that for the rest of the weekend. This was truly a difficult weekend, this being our first encounter with him being sick. I tried to remain calm for my husband who was terrified but inside, I too was terrified. We took him to the doctor the Monday morning and he was diagnosed with tonsillitis. I was so taken aback, as I thought that tonsillitis only affected bigger children and adults. He received medication but the fever still continued and so I called the doctor and ask him if this fever should not be checking by now. He said it will run its course for three days after he began the medication. I was relieved but three days was really too long to see him sick. He was just too vibrant and full of life to just lie there so listless, so sick. I could not take it, I broke down because I missed him, I missed his vibrancy and I was just not accustomed to seeing him so sick. He got better by the end of the week and I was so happy to have my healthy baby boy again. I had to sacrifice my job to stay home with him though, but I am alright with that, my child that I pulled from God's firm grip, comes first.

He became sick again a couple months ago and I prayed that it did not turn out to be like the last one. God seem to have answered my prayers, as the fever went away on its own soon after. I was relieved. I ask God to keep him well but I know this is not really possible because children do touch dirty things and pick up all kinds of germs and so this is indeed part of the package.

It is such a joy to wake up in the mornings and hear him trying to wake up and having conversations with himself. Especially on weekends, it is really a special moment to put him in the bed with us in the mornings and have him entertain us. We do enjoy the blessings of those moments.

As I said in previous post, I wonder very often these days, if God ever intended for me to have children of my own, given the difficult time I had. That I will never know. One thing I know however, is that I am eternally grateful to him, whether I forced his hands or not and this is something I will never take for granted. I will do everything I can to be a mother who is always there for her children, one who listens, one who instills the appropriate discipline and still be their greatest cheerleader and most of all one who is ever grateful, so grateful for this opportunity.



Join me in my next post for the conclusion of my infertility story.