I'm a C.P. Dad
by: Ross Abdelnour

"Close your eyes, have no fear, the monster's gone, he's on the run, and your Daddy's here".
                                                          ~John Lennon~

Some of my favorite stories involve the relationships between fathers and sons. My favorite T.V. show is Lost. My favorite play is Death of a Salesman. My Favorite book is the Book of Joe. My Favorite movie is the Godfather. All these are in some form about the relationship between father and son. I lost my own father when I was 14 to lung cancer. My dad was my best friend. Don't get me wrong, he could be a very difficult man. He was very old school. I would not be surprised to learn that he was probably bi-polar. He did not have the greatest upbringing. But it is funny. Although he was old school, unlike a lot of father's from the baby boomer generation, he was very affectionate. Not a day went by where I didn't tell my dad I loved him, not a day went by where I did not kiss and hug him. Losing him hurt so bad. But I think it honestly did make me a stronger person. And it made me long for the day where I would have my own son or daughter (preferably both). And on May 31, 2011, at 11:34pm, the wish came true.
Max Richard Abdelnour is my son. He was the happiest baby on earth, he continues to be the happiest 2 year old. I honestly go weeks without hearing him cry. He loves Mickey Mouse and Sesame Street. He will eat just about any food. He loves swinging and wrestling. He has a constant smile on his face. Nothing puts that smile on his face more than his mother, my wife Ashlee. He is tall and slim, like most Abdelnour men. He has brownish blonde hair, brown eyes. He is the best thing that ever happened to me. And he has Cerebral Palsy.
My wife had an amazing pregnancy. She truly enjoyed having that little bundle inside her. She almost never complained. She went into labor on Memorial Day, around 9:30 in the evening. We went to the hospital the next morning around seven o'clock. I had no idea what lay ahead of us. In my ignorance, I depended on movies, where the girl goes into labor and barely makes it to the hospital before the baby is here. Ashlee finally started to push around 9 p.m. The poor girl was in so much pain. I wanted Max to get out of her. She wanted Max to get out of her. Max, not so much. The doctor told us that she could have him out in two pushes. All she needed was the help of the vac. A suction device that literally sucked Max out of the womb. When we asked about the side effects, the doctor told us that he would have a very bad cone head. So we consented. And a few pushes later, Max was here. And everything seemed fine.
Around 10 months Max started to crawl. He would stand up as long as he could hold onto something. I never really noticed anything until he was about 14 months old. His right hand was always very tight. And he walked on his tip toes, but only on his right side. And he wasn't talking. Or mimicking. So at the advice of our day care provider, we set up Early Intervention. It was at his session with our Physical Therapist that she suggested we have him looked at by an Orthopedic doctor. On November 7th, 2012, Max was officially diagnosed with Mild C.P. It was like the life had been taken from my body. Like a dream I couldn't wake up from. At the time I did not know what Cerebral Palsy was. The extent of my knowledge was that the kid on Breaking Bad had it and the guy that Daniel Day Lewis portrayed in My Left Foot had it. Two very different ends of the spectrum. The Doctor told us that he had a very mild form of it, and he would walk and talk and when he was older it would not be a big deal. But I had heard doctors promises before. I sat in my car and cried. I hugged Max, kissed him, and cried some more. The whole time he is smiling and laughing. I felt like I went to bed the night before in one life and woke up to a different one. That night though, I made a promise to my self and to Max that I would learn everything I could about his condition, I would do everything I could to help him, and that I would never let me or anyone else treat him differently.
It has not even been a year since Max was diagnosed. He is walking. He using an A.F.O brace. He sees a Physical Therapist, a Speech Therapist, and an Orthopedic Therapist. He is not yet talking, although he seems to be improving every week. It is very tough to feel sorry for him. I know every parent thinks their child is the best, but sorry, Max is. I mean, someone has to be the best right? Well, that is Max. He wakes up everyday with a smile on his face. Literally. He goes to bed every night at 7. Most nights, he literally laughs himself to sleep. He is affectionate. He loves people. My anger, my sadness is something that is directed at myself. I feel sad that he is not "normal". I feel sad that he has all these therapies. I feel anger that my wife and I are good people who did not deserve this. I feel angry because Max did not deserve this. I am very aware of a couple of things. One, I know that in terms of the damage to Max' brain, we are lucky. He has mild C.P. I know it could be a lot worse. I also know that there are children who have it much, much worse. I know all this and I am truly grateful for my boy. He is special. He is the most special thing in the world. He is my boy. Every time I am feeling sad, I look at him. He looks at me and sits on my lap. I tickle him and he begins his infectious laughter. And I hear that laughter and know how truly lucky I am. If I could change one thing about Max it would be his C.P. But if that changed anything about him, then I would keep him exactly as he is. Because I do not think it is humanly possible to love him more. I know patience is a virtue. And I sit patiently waiting for the day when my son can look up at me and say "Daddy". And I know that will be the greatest thing anyone will ever say to me. I know there are a lot of C.P parents out there. And I pray for you and your children everyday. I hope the moms are like my wife, the greatest mom in the world. And I know your little ones give you the same pride that Max gives me. I never thought something like this would happen to me. I never thought I was lucky enough to have Max.