I just read this article about a dad dealing with having a disabled son with an extremely rare genetic disorder… And this sort of thing bothers me so much now. Or I should say effects me.
Any news article or story about a sick baby, hurting child, or suffering son cuts me right to the bone. A couple of times I’ve had to snatch Nathanael out of his comfy crib late at night and just hold him for a little while.
There are times when I miss being able to just go somewhere without having to complete a checklist of baby items necessary to leave the house (diapers: check… formula: check… Sophie the Giraffe: check). Or being able to have a conversation without having to prevent a squirmy kid from grabbing things off the coffee table.
But I’m so grateful. So achingly grateful for his ten fingers and ten toes and his perfect little nose and two Chiclets teeth and slightly-crossed eyes and perfectly spherical head.