The inevitable has now hit the Hinkley residence. We have officially begun the procedure to getting Oliver his very first wheelchair!

It is a procedure that one would assume comes with ease, yet I find myself nervous and fearful of rejection.

Denial. Claiming he is too small, or that there is no definitive proof just yet that he absolutely needs one.

If you would have told me that we would one day be doing this, when Oliver was born, I would have thought you were crazy.

I was all for pushing independence and faith in him one day walking.

Granted, this is still a high possibility but what I did not understand was that a wheelchair is Oliver's independence in disguise.

We have a man-made wheelchair at home, which is designed out of a bumbo, stroller wheels, and a wooden base.

Ever since Oliver has learned how to get around in it, he has been able to discover his surroundings.

He would slowly push the wheels back and forth and realize it moved him.

That then transitioned into full rolls up and down the hallway.

I now catch myself gripping at him to stay out of the cabinets or to leave the dishwasher door down while I put dishes away.

He has finally learned how to crawl, and we encourage both types of mobility, but sometimes we just want to get around the easiest way possible.

Sometimes he just may not feel like mustering up the extra strength to get from the kitchen to the living room by hands and knees.

Getting a wheelchair for Oliver has not in any way signed over his ability to one day walk. We do know that being almost two years old, he needs to get around in any way he can and be a kid.

For him, this just means by a wheelchair.

We unfortunately have had many friends in the community we are apart of get denied for a wheelchair for their child or children.

This is just another fight we have to go through to get what is right for our children!

I am hoping the process goes easy and we can get this little boy cruising. Out in public to be exact.

Pushing him around in a stroller is one thing, but being able to get from A to B by his own self is where independence grows.

I want to look at him cruising around with his older brother and see the happiness in their eyes.

I want them to learn and understand the equality of one another. I am no longer afraid of the thought of my little boy being in a wheelchair or of the stares and looks I may receive.

I have hit the pave in the road that finally knocked some sense into me!

Getting him this device is not bounding his body but rather setting it free!

Who wouldn't love to finally receive the gift of mobility, no matter what shape it comes in.

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