The other day as I carried our three year old to the car my older son looked at me and said, 'Why do you always carry him?'
The questions continued as I strapped his brother into his carseat and situated his feeding pump.
'When will he walk and talk like me?'
'Is he going to run?'
'When will we hear his voice?'
I buckled up, took a deep breath, and got ready to give him the truth.
'He might not honey.'
The look I saw on his face when I uttered those words was one I won’t forget.
He looked simply heartbroken. Shocked and heartbroken.
He glanced at me and asked 'Even when he’s a kid?'
I looked at him and said 'Yes, even when he’s a kid.'
I went on to tell him that he may never walk and talk like us, but we’ll keep trying.
I told him that his brother wasn’t born like him.
I reminded him that his little brother’s muscles weren’t as strong as his and he has to work extra hard to do the things we all simply know how to do.
He sat there quietly in his booster seat and let it all sink in. What he said next made my eyes well up with tears.
'Well I just know he will Mom.'
His confidence and positivity warmed my heart. Tears streamed down my face as I continued to drive.
Not out of sadness but out of pride.
Our son’s optimism and declaration gave me great joy and reminded me that we are doing something right.
You see, this is how we treat our youngest. We treat him as if he will.
We are determined to help him achieve his utmost potential.
To be honest, it was extremely hard for me to utter the words 'He might not.'
That’s not how we live each day but I knew I had to be completely honest with him.
We know that there is a possibility that some achievements may be out of reach.
We are fully aware of the reality of our son’s genetic condition, PMM2 CDG. But living in the 'Can’t' or 'Won’t' isn’t an option for us.
We just know he will. Whatever that may be, he will.