My teeth clench and my foot braces hard against the floor of this shaking machine. All at once the conversations surrounding us are hushed by the droning of the wind against metal. My heart beats harder.

My boy’s words on that day stuck with me months later. Words like that often do. Not only did they show me a hard place in my heart, but they showed me a soft, strong place in my son’s heart.

Back on that day when the doctor handed me the diagnosis, we had no idea what to expect, aside from limitations. And yet, I am learning that these limitations are an invite.

This open invite into their world, it’s a gracious offering that our children give us, and we can’t know for how long it will last.

I hadn’t seen it until that conversation with my husband–this sentence I had ruled myself guilty of. It’s the same shadow hanging over many moms today.

I could no longer avoid the decision. Do I pack these, or list them on Craigslist? It was crux of the crossroad we couldn’t move beyond.