Sometimes, I think back to the days when I had only one child – more specifically – a typically developing child. Life was easy back then. There were no acronyms to learn, no difficult medical issues to understand, and no membership to the “special parents” club. Life was easy, and my kid was smart, beautiful, creative, and quite amazing.

Our little life was so perfect that the thought of adding another kid made sense. Especially since we were obviously great parents, the proof was in our above average child.

Then our second child was born – with Down syndrome – and our perfect little family was shattered, because disability does not fit well with perfect. So I cried bitterly over the loss of my perfect family and the dreams I had for my future.

But it wasn’t all bad, because in the midst of grieving over my daughter’s diagnosis I came face to face with the real me. And the real me was broken, selfish, prideful, and scared. I didn’t know what to do with my new imperfect life. Nonetheless, I feel in love with my baby girl with almond shaped eyes, I began to see that she was not flawed or broken. I was.

Her presence in my life changed me little by little each day. It was as if God used her to reach deep into my heart to wipe the slime of my self-centered, self-reliant, selfish, prideful, boastful heart.

God chose a little baby girl with Down syndrome to transform my life and change my heart forever. I am not the same person anymore.

And I don’t miss it. I don’t miss the old me.

I don’t miss not knowing about acronyms, heart conditions, or speech delays. I don’t miss thinking my life was perfect. I don’t miss the days when I didn’t know what happens to children with special needs in other countries. I don’t miss the days before I saw an orphanage in Eastern Europe and my heart was broken into a million pieces.

I don’t miss it…most of the time. Because some days are hard. Some days I do wish I could take away my daughter’s cerebral palsy, the reason she had no hope in Ukraine. And some days I wish my daughter with Down syndrome could talk and communicate like other children her age. Sometimes I wish we had more help and respite and someone that gets it. Some days I do miss the old me that was ignorant about hardships, pain, suffering, and disability.

But that only lasts for a moment, because my life is now full of love, joy, peace, kindness, acceptance, celebration, compassion, and understanding. This is not who I was before I became a special needs mom.

And I wouldn’t trade it, I wouldn’t go back, even on the hard days. Because our life is full, our life is rich, and it is good.