Lucky

One day I hope to introduce you to a delightful woman named Fern. Along with being eager to meet you, she's an absolute treasure to humanity, and I want nothing more than to fill your life with kindness.

In Japanese culture ferns exemplify family and hope for the future. I imagine that symbolism whenever Fern talks about you.

Quite often I hear that you are lucky to have me. They aren't wrong. I love you with every fiber of my soul because you are a piece of the very fabric of my existence. There is no mile I wouldn't walk to find your content. There is no breath I wouldn't give to advocate for your inclusion. You are fortunate to have someone so completely spellbound by you.

Fern did something that never happens, though. She reminded me that I am the one who is lucky to have you.

Amen.

I usually have that response ready in my back pocket, because while I am willing to admit you are lucky to have me, I don't want it to go unsaid that I am the one who should count her blessings.

You are everything to me.

The world acknowledges the unique challenges of being a special needs parent. There are even cute sayings that allude to being chosen for this role because we came equipped with a certain level of strength.

I can't speak for everyone else, but I'm not so sure that was true for us. My strength took root when I was inspired by yours.

To not leave it unsaid, Fern added that you are also lucky to have me because there are certain leaps you'll make with me as your mother.

With tears, I said, "I hope so."

She nodded confidently and spoke more hope into our family - the mother who was given the world in the form of a resilient, formidable little girl.

Fortunately Yours,

Mama