asher's birthday - Amy Paulson Blog

This was going to be a redemption story.

I had planned and prepped and done the hard work. (and scoured Pinterest for hours.)

One of our children was going to have a REAL first birthday. A party. A celebration. Friends. Family. And a pinata.

You see the other two? Well…sometimes life happens. Our little lady? Her first birthday was spent at a funeral home as my aunt had passed away a day earlier. And did I mention that Ted was in New Orleans leading a youth mission trip? We actually gave her a cupcake at 15 months and pretended it was her birthday. Just the three of us. And J? Well…this is where it’s so sad because I don’t even know. I have a blog post with a 1 year old candle somewhere – but that’s all I could find.

It was time for this legacy to be re-written.

Except that 5 days before his birthday, we noticed a rash. And not exactly a hives rash, but a “holy-cow-this-rash-is-taking-over-this-little-man’s-body” rash. After watching it grow EXPONENTIALLY within a day all over his legs, arms and mouth, (all the while running a fever) I took him into the doctor. (It was about time we find a pediatrician down here, right?)

Hand, foot and mouth disease.

And not just your run of the mill case, but one that was trying to consume every inch of his sweet body. “Yeah, there’s a really crazy strand going around down here.”

“Why yes…” (Understatement of the YEAR.)

“Is there anything I can do for him?” [insert: PLEASE HELP MY BABY. Can’t you see how bad this is?]

“No. Just be cautious – it is contagious.”

AWESOME.

I then uninvited all the people we had invited. And analyzed every 5 minutes if my throat felt scratchy and I was getting it too…

The day rolled around and Asher was covered in scabs. The “we-can’t-take-you-out-in-public-even-with-long-pants-on-it’s-so-terrifying” scabs. He was tired and fussy and didn’t seem to get the fact that it was his birthday.

But you know what? He turned one. And we love that little boy to pieces. Scabs and all. So even though we didn’t bust out the pinata (read: it’s still on my back porch…) we celebrated. And thanked God. And squeezed him and loved him and told him how very incredible he was. And I held him nearly the entire time – which is a gift.

Because, as has been reaffirmed so much in the past few weeks: life does not go the way you expect oftentimes. It can be hard. But it’s beautiful. And so is he. My little scab-a-licious baby…

(PS: For all of you who noticed and were possibly affected by how I disappeared for a bit and lost all track of everything – well, this is why. I held a baby. And then my other one started 1ST GRADE 3 weeks later. Life has been difficult for this mama. Beautiful. Rough. And excited for a silver-lining…maybe.)

If you look closely below, you can see the scabs IN HIS NOSE. The poor little guy. A few days later, it got so bad and so thick, he was having trouble breathing. This kid is a trooper.