Sunday, May 14, 2017

Another Mother's Day, with Kallmann's Syndrome

My sweet son brought us dinner for Mother's Day. 

Although I have gone off sugar and desserts, I did eat some pie.  

My son is a miracle. I do not tell him that on a regular basis, although he knows it, I think.  It's not something we talk about, that for him to be conceived I went through an interesting series of shots and scans and procedures.  He was not supposed to be, not from a natural point of view.  As I have written before, I have Kallmann's Syndrome, a condition that means much less to me now than it did when I was younger but which still casts a shadow over my life.  Kallmann's has many ramifications, but the real prospect of not having a child is the hardest.

In that light, calling my son a miracle is not a big exaggeration, and the fact that he grew up, survived  pyloric stenosis as an infant, several years of seizure disorder from 4-11, and then grew up to be a taxpayer who likes to cook for his parents.  Considering all the things that can happen to a young man and that his mother was not genetically predisposed to have children, I call that a miracle that he was able to cook for us today.

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