“Being the sensitive kid is not the ‘cool’ thing when you’re growing up.”
 
		- Love What Matters
- Children
 
		 
		  “Being the sensitive kid is not the ‘cool’ thing when you’re growing up.”
 
		  “The minute my phone dinged and I saw it – I knew. I just knew. I shook my head and bit my lip to keep the tears of fury from coming, but I instinctively knew what happened – teenagers. That’s what.”
 
		  “This little girl is excited and doesn’t understand why so many people have stopped by. Why are people bringing us food? Not realizing that her world is about to change. Her mom had been holding a secret.”
 
		  “I hear Santa telling the gentleman, in a soft voice, of others he knew who served. He shakes his hand with genuine gratefulness, thanking him for his service, then returns to the children.”
 
		  “When our pediatrician comes back in, I see fear on her face. I feel the air leaving my lungs, my chest feels so heavy. She tells me his liver and spleen are enlarged, so enlarged the radiologist who read his X-ray asked, ‘How sick is this baby?!’ He’s not sick at all! He’s smiling and laughing, he’s perfect. I rush toward the elevator, a literal sobbing mess. How did I not know this? I thought I knew shock and devastation. I had no idea.”
 
		  “All we have been longing for, for two years, was for Austin to be able to eat again. It’s been rough on him – he couldn’t have liquid or food orally. He has recently started eating again, after two years completely tube fed, and he is able to try many foods now. This picture is the perfect celebration and way to remember that his biggest wish came true.”
 
		  “I don’t remember Pottery Barn centerpieces or monogrammed stockings. I don’t remember Pinterest-worthy trees or anything that would make one declare, ‘That is so precious. I must Instagram it immediately.’ That all might have been there. But if it was, I don’t remember.”
 
		  “I’m the one tidying up the toys while you are wrestled with. I make sure all your appointments are up to date, even when I forget my own. I’m the one up till 3 a.m. making the LEGO house you asked for. Hiding Christmas presents.”
 
		  “There it was. A bomb. He dropped it and then watched me completely break down. ‘I am certain this is skeletal dysplasia (dwarfism) and 99% certain the result will be fatal for the baby.’ We spun with the overload of information that had been given to us about our baby’s diagnosis.”
 
		  “No family history? Phew, he doesn’t have it. Ears set low? He must have it. ‘I can’t see his face!’ I hoped the sweet, blonde tech knew this was code for, ‘Does my baby have Down Syndrome?’ There was stumbling, stuttering. ‘How old are you?’ Wait WHAT? Sirens were spinning in my head. This is it, I thought. He has IT.”