My nurse laughed and shook her head every time she had to reposition the belt. "That kid's a wild child. He'll be a force to be reckoned with." No one knew how true her words would be.
As a result of the hard labor and bad reaction to the labor-inducing drugs, Jonathan was stricken with a seizure disorder at the age of two years. And he had delays. Simple things like holding a crayon or speaking short sentences was something my precious angel couldn't manage. But always with a smile on his chubby face, Jonathan would take the crayon from my hand, and in an almost painful manner, make a few marks on the page, Staying inside the lines didn't matter--we both celebrated each colorful scribble as if it were done by Picasso.
Jonathan received occupational/speech therapy when he attended pre-school, and every report from the therapists were the same. My child would sometimes get frustrated with what was asked of him, but never gave up.
Through the years, fingers that found it difficult to manipulate scissors handled a camera with the skill of a seasoned pro and won Jonathan the honor of being an award-winning photographer. Faltering words was replaced with a quiet speech pattern that won my child district speech contests in 4H.
As a teen, rather than being entranced by the electronic hum of video games, Jonathan placed his insecurities aside and joined my husband and I in assisting in various community-based charity events.
Our family's world crumbled when my younger son Joseph was diagnosed with autism. Time and energies were spent find appropriate resources, and for a while, Jonathan was almost forgotten. Still, he made it his personal goal to educate people about the disorder and advocate for his brother.
"Someone was my voice when I had none, so it's my turn to pay the favor forward," he always explains.
Yes, years ago the nurse was correct when she said my child would be a "force to be reckoned with." I couldn't be prouder.