Tears

This Friday will be the one year anniversary of the scan that completely changed our lives, the MRI. One year ago we were told that our son’s cerebellum was shrinking. One year ago our son’s neurologist called me immediately after the procedure and asked “how much do you want to know?” The blood drained from my face and I wanted to throw up. No. No. No. Not our baby. I held him and sobbed. I can’t believe it’s been a year.

Over the last year I have shed buckets of tears. I’ve cried for so many different reasons. I’ve cried for our son and the struggles he will have throughout his whole life. I’ve cried for our other children because their lives are forever altered. I’ve cried every time I see a parent post in our CDG family network that their child earned their angel wings. Those days are extremely hard. I also mourn the loss of the child we thought we would have, over and over again. Whenever I see another 20 month old running around I think that could have been us. I have cried witnessing two siblings fight over a truck and think that’s not us. I’ve sobbed out of pure exhaustion. So many tears filled with worry, anxiety, and grief.

I’ve also cried because I’m incredibly blessed. I get to see the most magical smile. Every. Single. Day. Tears of joy when he held his head up for a few seconds. My eyes fill with tears when he can’t stop giggling; it’s the most amazing sound you will ever hear. More tears when he rolled over for the first time. Joyful tears when he looks up, touches my face, and gazes at me with so much true affection. Tears filled with so much joy, happiness, and love.

I know that the tears aren’t going to stop. There will definitely be more along the way. More for the life we wish he would have had and more for every milestone he reaches. Thinking back on the last year I wouldn’t change a thing. I wouldn’t take any of it back. The tears and all. We are who we are today because of every trial and challenge along the way.