When I saw my boy jump off the porch to save some helium balloons one Saturday evening in April, I thought he had his first broken bone. We went to the ER and nothing was noticeably broken on the X-rays, but the radiology told us to follow up with an orthopedic doctor. We did. He also couldn’t determine much from X-rays because the injury was near Ben’s growth plate. He ordered an MRI, which happened that Tuesday. 

We went back the following day to talk about the MRI and make a plan. It was a non-displaced fracture, so essentially the MRI showed an injured heel but no cracked bone. He has to stay off of it completely for four weeks and the doctor is hoping he can then gradually start walking and applying pressure. He hopes Ben is young enough for it to heel quickly and not have to stay off of it the normal eight to ten weeks. 

He was a champ figuring out how to maneuver school and home and life in general with crutches. His big sister helped him get into school and his friends were helpful getting his stuff from his locker and to classes once he’s in there.

Days seems longer for him right now. It’s exhausting to ask for help more than he’s used to doing, miss out on being active, walk on crutches, and try not to dwell on the pain in his foot. 

Honestly, my boy was sad when we left the orthopedic doctor’s office. Four weeks sounds like an eternity when it means no more PE this school year or soccer this season. Soccer camp was in five weeks and basketball camp was seven weeks away. 

Thankfully, swimming is fine, although it hasn’t been great swimming weather since the last day of school. He’d fished and kayaked. This isn’t how we wanted the spring leading into #88daysofsummer to be, but he’s adjusted and made the most of it. 

We went to the orthopedic yesterday for the four-week follow-up appointment and he hoped he’d be putting on the second tennis shoe he brought in the car. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to wear the boot for a few more weeks, but he can walk and run on it.

I had to cancel soccer camp, but basketball camp might happen. He can stop carting around the crutches, thankfully. 

Oh, and he caught the balloons for his little sister as he jumped off the porch that April evening. 

One dozen years old. Seems surreal, really. 

Ben has been in middle school for three months now, but, honestly, he’s still adjusting. Yes, there have been some frustrating moments, but I’m proud of his attitude to adjust socially, logistically, and academically. 

I wrote about Ben two months ago when he decided to follow Christ and made that profession of faith public with baptism. There have been transitions there too bit for him as a person and me as his mom. His convictions and responsibilities have changed. Greg and I have always encouraged him before to make the Taylor name proud because he’s representing a family legacy. But now we encourage him to wear the name of Christ well. 

Ben loves to put together and take apart things. He prefers math and science because there are concrete answers. He’s less interested in abstract assignments. His locker is a mess, his binder holds so many papers, and his dirty laundry often makes a trail from where he’s been. But he sees a need and wants to help. He remembers experiences and always wants to know what’s happening next. 

For a dozen years, this boy has kept me on my toes and taught me so much about myself as I’ve figured out how to parent him. He has a courageous faith that brings others in and loves to make others laugh. He loves our cats, newspaper comics, his friends, and non-fiction fact & record books. He plays soccer and basketball … and doesn’t mind when the seasons overlap.

*****

Ben, so many nights my bedtime prayers for you include being thankful I get to be your mom. That’s entirely true and I will thank God for you all the days of my life. You’re sandwiched between your sisters and wish you had a brother, but our family is stronger and braver with you in it. I love being able to make you laugh, which is why I knew those magic candles that wouldn’t go out were perfect for your birthday cake. 

I’m proud of the adjustments and transitions you’ve made, especially when life seems confusing to you. Keep running toward God; he has plans for you beyond anything you can imagine and will finish the good work He’s begun in you. 

I love you, son. Happiest birthday to you! 

*****

I share more of Ben’s story in my book “Peace in the Process: How Adoption Built My Faith & My Family,” which is available on Amazon or directly from me. Look back on my boy’s life:  1 year old. 2 years old. 3 years old. 4 years old. 5 years old. 6 years old. 7 years old. 8 years old. 9 years old. 10 years old. 11 years old.