The Beginning

Today is my birthday, and my Mom's was just a few days ago so while we were together this weekend I asked her a few questions around her pregnancy and my eventual diagnosis.  

So in my best Sophia Petrillo voice "Picture it...Germany 197#...."

But really it started in Texas in 197#.  A young couple just returning to the States from four years in Ghana had a TDY in Texas and discovered they were expecting a child.  At this point in time ultrasounds were not widely available for prenatal visits, so my parents were unaware of my sex or any medical diagnoses prior to my birth.  My Mom's prenatal care began in Texas, continued in Bonn, and lastly my delivery in another city in Germany.  Her pregnancy was fairly typical, although she was quite sick for the first five months.  

Also at this point in time individuals with disabilities were fighting for their rights to live independent lives, and the advocacy group LPA had been around for about 20 years.  Both of these movements may have been outside of one's peripheral if you were not immediately impacted by them.  Neither of my parents had an exposure or relationship to an individual with dwarfism prior to me apart from perhaps television or movies.  

My parents settled into their life in Bonn and prepared for their baby to be.  Some of their friends from other posts were also posted in Bonn at the same time and it was a great place to be.  However to give birth you had to go to a different city and my Mom went expecting to be there two weeks which ended up being four.  I was very late arriving and she spent her days eating malted milk balls and watching delayed American television.  My Dad visited on the weekends and on the last weekend he got back to Bonn and received a message my Mom went into labor.  He turned right back around and supported my Mom through 15 hours of labor, preeclampsia, and then a caesarean section.  

They were thrilled, weary, tired new parents.

The next day a nurse suggested that something about my physical appearance was off, and suggested cretinism.  Again, at this point all of the terms for being short in stature may have been combined, antiquated and unknown.  A few weeks later they went to a geneticist and I was officially diagnosed with achondroplasia.  Naturally, my parents grieved the diagnosis but also knew they were going to do everything they could to help me live a full and independent life.  Communicating my diagnosis and receiving others responses was also a challenge.

Of course, my Aunt L was part of this process, and as my parents learned about achondroplasia, she was finding the doctors that care for achondroplasia in the States.  Imagine doing that type of research before the internet!  But she did, and she found Johns Hopkins, where I would receive the same diagnosis and also meet two of my best friends.  That story is to come...because it is magic.