No Rain, No Rainbows

This month marks one year since we were given Spencer's diagnosis. If you would have asked me a year ago where I'd be today, I honestly couldn't have given you an answer. But I know this, I am amazed at how far I've come and that I'm not just okay, I've found an incredible joy throughout this experience. I've matured in ways I could have never imagine, found what's really important in life and learned that life's short (no pun intended.) I've have found a truly spiritual meaning in the saying, "no rain, no rainbows."

I've taken some time to read back over emails I sent around this time a year ago and read the journal I kept in the early weeks. Don't get me wrong it was tough, but even then I had a sense of peace beneath it all.

When I went through my prenatal records and Spencer's birth records, I was angry to find out that his diagnosis was so obvious and yet everyone missed it. I looked for someone to blame and any anger I had was pretty much directed at the medical profession. Over the last year, after hearing the emotional roller coaster so many other families had because they were given the diagnosis prenatally or at birth, has made me realize we were truly given a gift in some ways. By the time we found out about Spencer's condition we had already fallen deeply in love with him and discovered his dwarfism didn't have to define him in a negative way.

The day we were given Spencer's diagnosis though I was up and I was down. I cried and cried some more and that night I didn't sleep much. I got up in the wee hours of the morning and held Spencer. As we sat in our big picture window, the light streamed in and I saw Spence look at me and smile. Yep, still the same old Spence. He was going to be okay and so was I.

Just a few weeks later, we were headed to our first appointment with the Skeletal Dysplasia clinic and ready to get some concrete answers. But we never made it to that appointment. When we arrived at the hospital, we found Spencer lifeless in his carseat. We would later learn he had had a central apnic episode and it nearly took his life. Bam! We were thrown into the not so fun side of dwarfism, the medical complications. Spencer had neurosurgery a few days later and we went through another roller coaster of emotions.

The year went on and so did the rest of our lives. The four other kids were keeping us busy and Spencer's appointments filled in any spare time we had. Somewhere in all of the chaos though I changed. I relaxed, I matured, I loved deeper, I let things go, like unnecessary housework and grudges, I found a confidence in myself like never before and I think I became a better wife, mother, friend, sister, daughter and person.

In all honesty, I don't care Spencer has dwarfism. Really I don't. I feel bad for the struggles and hurts that he'll face in life, but I know I wouldn't be the person I am today without him. And I'm not sure I would have reached the incredible level of joy in my life that I now experience.

I feel like I haven't done justice writing about our experience the last year, but it's hard to describe the changes that have taken place in us, the growth and the peace we have about it all. Bottomline though....no rain, no rainbows.