|24 weeks and 1 day|
A friend of mine tweeted today "Would you trade your memories for the ability to see the future?", and you know, that is deep and has many levels, but my immediate thought was, if someone had told me the future back in the day, I would have run like heck.
You don't know what you're capable of until it stares you in the face. And the last 12 years of loving my son, serving my son, have been rich. I wouldn't have known that. I would have said I couldn't handle it, the medical stuff, the fear, the recurring sadness of having a brain-damaged child. I would have been so wrong.
I wouldn't have understood what it means to learn to love someone who can't really give back. I wouldn't have learned how to cling to Jesus in the very darkest moments, perched in a hard plastic chair while all the doctors came running and the alarms exploded. I wouldn't have known how Jesus could be so real, so tangible when I came to the end of myself.
I wouldn't have known the pain and the sweetness of dying to myself as I laid down my plans and expectations for my child, and accepted his "normal".
I wouldn't have known that joy is so rich when you work so hard for it, that a single word, first steps at 4 years old, just his being able to identify his plate and cup, could thrill me.
I wouldn't have known, so I'm glad nobody asked me. I'm not special or chosen, I'm just a mom, and I'm learning how to live and love in this new reality. Like I said, you don't know what you're capable of.
Happy 12th birthday to my little miracle.