I wasn’t blindsided by Emmy’s diagnosis, it was more like watching a large wave form in the ocean as I was standing in the surf. I saw it coming, ominous and scary and there wasn’t anything I could do but stand firm. I felt the sand moving out from beneath my feet as the water sucked out and then I braced myself for the pounding force of the truth. You can’t outrun truth and knowing that this wave was a powerful one that could knock me over and send me reeling, I tried to stand as strong as I could.

And then for a few months,
I cried.

As I regrouped I moved forward with steely determination to do my best by her. I stood in the face of the ocean of Williams Syndrome and did my best not to see it as a foe but rather part of who Emmy is. I learned all I could, and spent many long moments staring at her-taking in both who we made her and trying to accept who Williams Syndrome had made her. I stared so hard that I thought I might be able to see into her future-hoping for assurance that she would be ok when she was 5, 15, 30…Her dark eyes seemed endless and I decided that her huge smile was a gift. Her soft skin and button nose were intriguing and irresistible…even if slightly unfamiliar. As I stared I knew I didn’t really have a choice to back down and bail out. So I simply clung to Hope and kept my head up and waded through the new waters, one step at a time.

As this New Year turned, I found myself finally wanting to just sit down on the beach. My legs are tired. Even though I wasn’t blindsided, I still got hit. The inevitable arrival of altered dreams did a number on me. So I guess there does come a time when rest is just the thing. Right now there isn’t a wave on the horizon and I think there may be time now to sit and watch the rolling in and rolling out of things and also to drink some lemonade. There are also beautifully amazing things to see from this spot-things I don’t see when I’m planning and learning and speculating. I see a bright eyed, curly haired, smiling Love that is a treasure I can barely describe…I know that the tide can turn again and it may ask of me to bear down again. But until then, I’m choosing to slow down a little, to catch my breath, to dream about the next things for us.