My mind was in overdrive and reading anything and everything I could get my hands on. Everyone, I mean everyone, was offering their opinion… All I wanted to do was find a magic wand and lock myself in a dark room with a nice bottle of red wine. If that didn’t work I was ready to pack the family up and live off the grid!
From family members offering to pray to “restore his genes” to people talking even crazier about replacing his genes, I had enough. Then I read the words “we had to learn to mourn the child we thought we were going to have and accept the one we do have.” Well, those words pissed me off too… excuse my language but I thought to myself, who cannot accept their child and why would you have to “mourn” them?
I thought back to that day in the car on the way home from the hospital. The day when the doc confirmed our son had something going on and told us what he thought it may be. I remember feeling almost relieved, almost happy… I wasn’t sad or mourning who I thought my son was or trying to accept him because of a diagnosis, I’ve already accepted him. I accepted him the day I learned I was pregnant with him and it was more concrete on the first day I laid eyes on him.
That day in the car I chose to celebrate him. I chose to celebrate all that he is. I chose to not accept his heart condition because we would work to keep him healthy and make every effort to give him every chance. I was not in mourning for any expectation I thought I had for my son and I never would be. I knew I loved him unconditionally and so did my husband.
Im lucky… most would say blessed. There will be no mourning in our house only a celebration of life. We choose not to waste precious time or moments dwelling on perfection. Perfection is a state of mind or it doesn’t exist.
Life is seriously too short.
Painting Butterflies 