"The Talk" Finally Happened

It happened last night at bedtime.
Will & I were rocking & cuddling & singing. I had just finished our nightly rendition of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame." We were about to pray with Daddy but he hadn't come in the room yet. Thankfully, I had turned out the light already. As I've said before, I don't want to confuse my issues with Will's issues so my goal is not to cry in front of him (regarding his differences/kids being mean/nosy adults/etc). However, I'm pregnant & hormonal & this was the conversation I've dreaded for 2 years & 9 months -since before he was born & was diagnosed in the womb, really.
I cried. In front of Will. Thankfully, it wasn't the ugly cry & he didn't get that I was crying. I think he asked if I was feeling bad - a common question lately with my pleurisy of last week & sickness with this baby.
Suddenly, he had said, "Mommy, my hands are different than your hands."
It was the first time he has ever verbalized clearly a realization of his differences.
I said, "Yes, but that is how God made you. Your hands are perfect the way they are & I love them." I kissed his hands as tears ran down my face.
He said, while holding out his right hand, "This is a hand." Then he held out his left "hand." He said, "This is not a hand. This is just an arm."
My heart broke. Kids have argued with me before that Will's left "hand" isn't really a hand but we call it a hand because he uses it like one- he feeds himself with it, he points with it, he uses it to pick up things, etc. It has the function of a hand, even if it technically doesn't have a palm & is an extension of his arm.
I gently said, "No, Will. You have 2 hands. That is your left hand. It's how God made you & we love your hands." I kissed them again.
He kind of let it go & as we prayed with Daddy, I continued to cry. I cuddled him for a long time last night, rocked him, & kissed his head.
As I walked into the living room I saw R. He asked what Will said to cause me to cry. I told him. He said, "I don't really know what to say. It makes me sad." I said me too - there was nothing really to say. We were told it would happen sometime in age 2 by other parents. Now it had happened. What else was there to say? I suppose there was some relief in it being over at last - it was in the dark, we were alone in his room instead of out in public, there weren't other children to offer up arguments or confusion, etc.
It just feels like a slight loss of innocence, a passage of a precious time of life... the before - when he didn't know & was somehow protected from the world & cruelty by not knowing. He knows now. I can't always protect him because now that he knows, he might get it when others are cruel or mocking or asking questions.
I've never hidden it from him. It's not a secret. We talk about Will & his differences (respectfully always) in front of him. I've answered questions about his body his entire life in front of him - whether at the grocery store, the park, or a doctor's office. It's no secret. But until now, I haven't been sure of how much he gets.
Now I know.
And I assume the conversation about his "feet" will come soon.
Our prayer (& one of my deepest fears) is that somehow Will's personality will change with the knowledge. I've talked to other parents of children with limb differences- this is a common fear, I think and sometimes it is the reality. Children who were previously confident & gregarious sometimes change into shy children once they've experienced their limit of questions or cruelty. Our prayer for Will is that he will remain confident and outgoing; that he will use the knowledge to bring joy & humor into situations (like the kid I know who tells people he lost his limbs in a shark attack.) I pray that it won't change him.
I pray I have the strength for the foot conversation.