I received a recording from Wil’s pediatrician that some of his test results were in so I checked his online patient portal. As I was scrolling down, I saw his doctor’s first entry “complete trisomy 21.” How heavy those words once were. I remember well the weight of this diagnosis but no longer hold that weight inside me. I have compassion for myself back then, but I feel as if I am a different person now. How I once felt the world came crashing down. How I once felt I had to fix it all, put it all back together the way it was. But that was my mistake. There was nothing to fix. Everything was perfectly perfect just as it was intended to be.
In my efforts to lift this heavy weight, I discovered force was not the answer. I learned patience and a strong underlying perseverance. This journey is a step-by-step, day-by-day, take-it-as-it-comes, do-the-best-you-can-with-the-moment while keeping-laser-focus-on-the-end-goal process. In taking these slower, more deliberate steps, I discovered the simplest of moments hold a considerable amount of significance. And what we can not control is not worth the energy of our worry. Its taking the moment that is given, and looking for any and every opportunity within it. Some days Wil’s progress moved in painstaking millimeters, but those were the exact days I discovered how absolutely thrilling an inch could be.
What I once overlooked as small now revealed itself for its immense significance. And in that same vein, experiences I once looked at as big, now quickly revealed their triviality. I stumbled on this kind of thinking by the gift of Wil’s birth, and I am forever thankful for that. It was the initial weight that taught me how to lighten my heart. Life is growth, yet we fight that because there is always pain in growth. But on the other side of this pain is something that can never be taken from you. It is something you have lived and learned, and in so doing you fully own it and become stronger for the next challenge. I know nothing more empowering.