When Your Children Inherit Your Struggles

I would wager that the majority of parents have something about themselves they would rather avoid passing down to their kids. Maybe it's a short temper, a struggle with reading, or anxiety.
Mine came unexpectedly because it had never occurred to me it was something that could be passed down.

I have always been on the flexible side, but I chalked it up to having been involved in dance since the age of four. Dancers are just flexible people, right?
But I'm not just your run-of-the-mill flexible. My greatest pregnancy struggle is not nausea or food issues - it's arms and legs that fall out of socket from such basic tasks as lifting a grocery bag or sitting oddly.

In high school I was obnoxiously proud of what I could do. Making pretty stage pictures comes easily when your legs and arms are so hyper-extended. I assumed when I came back to dance after my second child was born that I would have to spend a lot of time getting flexibility back.
Strength needed some work, yes, but flexibility? Apparently those were factory settings.

It never dawned on me that they might be genetic settings.

Our first two babies had some of the traits: turned out hips, tendency to stand with feet turned out, hyper-extended arms.

But nothing like our third baby.

Felicity has all of the hallmarks of hyper-mobility. She could not pull up to stand until almost 15 months because her ankles are so unstable. She struggles to compensate for a body that does not give natural resistance when moving beyond the point of stability.

How I know that struggle! I have to work hard to stay strong enough to not experience frequent dislocations. Wear gloves on my hands to stabilize my finger joints on bad days. A brace on my ankle when working on new turns so I don't sprain it - again. Pay attention to how I walk and stand and sit so I don't accidentally knock something askew.

It hurts. Often. It took many years of trial and error to understand how to minimize injury.

It never occurred to me that I might one day have to translate those solutions to use on my baby.

I know exactly how hard it will be for her. I feel all that pain, and I felt cheated.

Carrying this cross wasn't that big of a deal when it was just me. I can handle pain. I can deal with compensating for the rest of my life. God made me good and stubborn, and I can stubborn my way over many a mountain.

In my head I had made a deal with God: I carry this quietly and it stops here. 
But that wasn't fair.

Because for all the pain and difficulty extreme hyper-mobility can bring, it can also be a blessing.
I don't struggle to move.
I can find a lot of comradery for my freaky talents among fellow dancers - who are often selected because they share these traits.
I have to humble myself enough to ask for help when I need it. The consequences are too high if I fail to let others help.

Struggles, especially life long struggles, can be a magnificent blessing. They change us. They mold us into being people we would never have become otherwise.
Carrying a cross has given me a greater possibility for empathy, and a path for understanding what my own daughter will face.

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To read more about Felicity's story:

Are there crosses in your life that are/could be shared by your children or other family/friends? 

How do you handle it?