Finding Peace with a Cleft Diagnosis: Foster’s Story
Almost three years ago during a routine sonogram, Anne Marie Musgrove found out her son would be born with a craniofacial deformity. Read the touching story of her son, Foster’s journey and the peace she found through his care at UF’s Craniofacial Center. Here's Foster's story in his mother's words.
“I am pretty sure that what I see here is a cleft”, he said.
That was it.
It was one of those turning point moments. My heart sank to the floor. “Really?” That’s the only word that would come out. I didn’t cry at first, but once I got to my car the tears came hard.
The rest of the day was tough. There was still a lot of unknowns: Was it really just a unilateral cleft? How severe was it? Was the palate involved? Was it associated with something else? On top of all the still unanswered questions, I felt like I had little reign over my emotions. Like I had been given the first chapter of the story and then left to fill in the rest. And when you aren’t the author, your mind can come up with a lot of different plot twists.
The bottom line was that I wasn’t in control of this the way I am in so many other areas of my life. I decide what I eat, how I dress, and how clean my house is [or isn’t]. I choose what I do with my free time, how to spend my money, and who my friends are. I make decisions about my kids - whether or not we’ll spank or homeschool or sign up for soccer. And it happens so subtly. I start to create this safe existence, and what I’m really wanting out of life is expanded borders with no suffering… comfort and ease and plenty without the pain. I want it even more for my kids. The thing is, love without risk is an illusion.
I was reminded of this at 21 weeks pregnant when my calculated life started on an unlikely path and I was thrown into an adventure I never would have chosen. I started to realize that choosing is the easy part, it’s learning how to handle what we don’t choose that shapes us most and draws people close.
It’s been nearly three years since that first sonogram showing evidence of a Craniofacial deformity, and there are so many things I wish I had known then that I know now…
That the cleft doesn’t take anything away from Foster - or from us… instead it adds so much.
That there would be beautiful people we’d meet because of his cleft that we would have missed out on otherwise.
That I wouldn’t worry so much about his future, the next surgery, or even the next day, but that I would be captivated with him in the today.
That my oldest child wouldn’t be overshadowed by his little brother, but instead he would grow into more of who he was created to be because of his little brother.
That cleft kisses are the best kisses.
That his first smile would steal my heart, and I would mourn the day it would change.
That in the midst of the hard parts there would be joy and moments of undeserved grace that would give us a quiet confidence we can endure whatever lies ahead.
There are still surgeries and questions and unknowns and we will always be learning, but I am certain of one thing…that the Lord is always with us and always before us and we can count it as JOY that we are called to walk through this journey (and all those surgeries and long nights and tears), having our faith tested in a way that produces steadfastness. Because this is the way He makes us more complete.
We aren’t made for this world. I was created for eternity and so was my son. And because I know that is true, we can endure what is temporary as we hope for what is to come.
- Anne Marie Musgrove
Photo courtesy of Anne Marie Musgrove