Hummingbird

Recently I read a fantastic article written by a Mom whose child has A.D.H.D. who compared the experience of hugging her child to hugging a butterfly.  Sound strange?  To me it made perfect sense.  For many years I have likened my beautiful, intelligent, strong, but also incredibly delicate child to a hummingbird.  It is a pet name of sorts, a term of endearment, a descriptor which captures him perfectly.  It all began when he was about 3 years old and my extremely patient, wonderful partner pointed out to me my son never actually sits down to eat a meal.  Strangely enough, I didn’t seem to notice it until EXACTLY the moment he pointed it out to me.  In retrospect I consciously had already observed it, just hadn’t actually processed it until that exact second.  We were enjoying a summer dinner outside and watching a little boy eat in a unique way.  He was in constant motion but stopped only for a few seconds at a time to take quick mouthfuls of food before completing running another circle around the yard.

At that moment, and every day since, I began thinking of my lovely little boy as a hummingbird.  He embodies such an interesting combination of strength and fragility – nearly always in motion.   As time has progressed, rather than worrying about why this constant stream of movement is part of each day for him, I’ve learned to embrace and admire another facet of his being.  It is an incredibly cathartic process to accept my fantastic child, piece by piece instead of expending precious amounts of my limited energy worrying whether he ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t’ be doing certain things each day.

Recognizing and celebrating his uniqueness is certainly a complex process, a journey, an unexpected road, one which I can honestly say I am grateful for being chosen to navigate.  I often look upon him with a combination of wonder, amazement, fascination and pride.  It’s clear that his brain is also constantly in motion, constantly, quickly, processing much more than I can even imagine at any given moment.  His ability to hyper-focus, also once a source of worry, has now clearly become an asset, once which I hope he will be able to utilize as he grows and one day chooses his career.

Yes, I said something crucial for the first time since I learned he has multiple challenges including A.D.H.D.   I can honestly say I do believe he will be able to ‘harness’ his extra energy, slow down the pace of his thinking, learn to make his ‘wings’ flutter a little slower and successfully apply his magnificent brain in the career of his choice when he grows up.

It is possible to hug a hummingbird..trust me, I’ve actually done it many times.  When those rare, precious opportunities present themselves, when my little bird flutters my way, looks right into my eyes, holds out his arms and snuggles his head up to my chest while saying “Mommy, hug me” time actually STOPS.   Everything STOPS…he isn’t in constant motion! For a few precious seconds I can freeze the fluttering of his wings, hear the cadence of his heart song, feel the breath in his lungs, cherish the gift of his arms wrapped around me….bliss personified.  Every moment of struggle, pain, anger, defiance, aggression, anxiety, completely dissipates.  Divine.

Yes, I have hugged a hummingbird.  For all those other Moms (and Dads) out there who have done the same please don’t lose hope.   There are dark days, unquestionably.  You will likely face judgement from others at the worst times, often from those closest to ‘you.  I’ve learned to seek out support in creative ways, even to generate opportunities for other parents that previously may not have existed.  Pro-active, not re-active…it can become a mantra of sorts if you repeat it often enough.  Admiring the complex intricacies of my hummingbird has made it much easier to embrace him and I’m grateful the requests for hugs are increasing more each day.