Those nine months a mom carries her baby are filled with joy, anticipation, and a dose of uncertainty. What the new parents hope for is their bundle of joy to be healthy. Sadly, that is not always the case.
Jennie Wilklow, from Highland, New York, couldn’t wait to meet her daughter. She and her husband were over the moon to hold her in their arms. All the ultrasounds and doctor’s appointment suggested the baby was healthy, so they were eased and never thought sweet Anna would be born with a condition that would change all of their lives forever.
Jennie delivered Anna via C-section at 34 weeks. Doctors told her she looked beautiful and that was all Jennie needed to hear at that point.
Shortly after, the proud mom heard her daughter cry, and that was just another sign that everything was right with her little jewel.
When her husband visited Jennie, he was strangely silent and looked worried and puzzled.
“My husband’s silence scared me; he just sat in shock as the doctor left, and I prodded for more info,” Jennie shared with Cafe Mom.
“He just kept saying, ‘It’s bad.’ What does that even mean? I thought in my head. He told me, ‘Jennie, I looked in her eyes, and she has the most beautiful soul.’”
Anna was diagnosed with harlequin ichthyosis, a rare condition that causes thick diamond-shaped plates that are separated by deep cracks. “As they tried frantically to help her, her skin hardened within seconds (of birth). After hardening, it began to split, causing open wounds all over her body,” Jennie told Cafe Mom.
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Although doctors weren’t sure she would survive, Anna beat the odds and is thriving. “She was beauty in the purest form,” her mom said.
There isn’t cure, and the treatment is quite demanding as it requires constant baths and keeping the skin as much moisturized as possible. “Every couple of hours I covered her with Vaseline and bathed her for many hours of the day. I had dreamed for years about the things my baby would wear, and though it seemed so trivial, it was what I struggled with most,” Jennie said.
In an attempt to raise awareness about this condition, Jennie posts photos of Anna on her Instagram page harlequindiva. She opens up about the everyday struggles and what it is like to have a child with harlequin ichthyosis.
“Anna captured everyone’s hearts because she is the purest form of perfection. Doing the work every day is simple when I’m doing it for her, and with every new accomplishment, the world celebrates with me,” Jennie told Cafe Mom.
She adds, “I now understand that I was given her because of the love I already carried in my heart for my daughter. Anna was meant for me, and I for her, and together we will show the world what true beauty is.”
THE DAY I LEARNED WHAT TRUE STRENGTH LOOKS LIKE
The sun beat down mercilessly, reflecting off the asphalt in shimmering waves. Sweat stung my eyes as I wrestled with the last stubborn lug nut. Another long day on the construction site, another day spent pushing my body to its limits. I was used to it. I was a construction worker, built like a bull, and pride myself on my strength. I could lift steel beams that would make most men wince, and I never backed down from a challenge.
Thirst gnawing at my throat, I stopped at the gas station, the promise of an icy soda beckoning. As I stepped out of my truck, I noticed an elderly man struggling with his car. His back was to me, but I could see his shoulders hunched, his hands trembling as he wrestled with a tire iron. Sweat stained his shirt, and he looked utterly defeated.
Something in his posture, the way his shoulders slumped, the way he seemed to shrink under the weight of the situation, tugged at my heartstrings. I walked over, a question forming on my lips. “Need a hand?”
He startled, turning to face me. His eyes, the color of faded denim, were filled with a mixture of surprise and apprehension. For a moment, he just stared, as if deciding whether to trust this hulking stranger. Then, a flicker of something akin to surrender crossed his face. “Yeah,” he rasped, his voice rough with exertion, “I think I do.”
As I knelt down, loosening the stubborn lug nut, he began to speak. His voice was weathered, like an old leather boot, but surprisingly steady. “Name’s Arthur,” he introduced himself. “Never been one to ask for help,” he confessed, his gaze fixed on the ground. “Always been the one doing the fixing, the helping.”
He went on to tell me about his life – a life of hard work, of providing for his family, of always being the strong one. His wife, bless her soul, had passed away last year, leaving a gaping hole in his life. “She always told me,” he sighed, “not to be so stubborn. To ask for help when I needed it. But I… I never could. Pride, I guess.”
As I tightened the last lug nut, I looked at him. Arthur was watching me, a flicker of something akin to awe in his eyes. “You don’t know what this means to me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
And in that moment, I realized something profound. True strength wasn’t just about brute force, about lifting heavy things and overcoming physical obstacles. True strength lay in acknowledging your limitations, in recognizing when you needed a helping hand, and in having the humility to accept it. It was about recognizing that asking for help wasn’t a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength.
Arthur, in his vulnerability, had taught me a valuable lesson. That day, I not only helped an elderly man change a tire; I learned a valuable lesson about true strength, a lesson that would stay with me long after the memory of the hot summer day and the rusty tire iron faded.
From that day forward, I approached my work with a newfound perspective. I learned to appreciate the value of teamwork, to recognize the strengths of my colleagues, and to ask for help when I needed it. I learned that true strength wasn’t about being invincible, but about knowing when to lean on others and allowing yourself to be vulnerable. And every time I faced a challenge, I would remember Arthur, and the valuable lesson he taught me about the true meaning of strength.
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