Defying the Odds

I have an admission to make. Can I just say that I have secret satisfaction in being told that something won't or can't happen? I don't know how many doctors have told me that Noah wouldn't do this or wouldn't ever be able to do that. Early on it was things like gaining weight without a g-tube. Or that feeding Noah 'regular' foods would cause his bouts of aspiration pneumonia, so it can't be done. Or (the most common) that Noah wouldn't ever be able to crawl on his own.

It's not like we haven't seen plenty of encouraging, wonderful doctors. It's just that the less positive are more common. Of course they generally only get one visit out of us.

Is there a little part of me who would like to go back to each of those nay-sayers and rub their noses in the fact that we succeeded in an area that they said was impossible? Hmm. I don't think I'll answer that one. Let's just say that I have grown to appreciate the times when we are told something can't or won't happen. In my head I say, "Ha! We'll see."

But I may start saying, "Care to make a little wager?" Cause, you know, I could always use the extra cash. ;-)