Today is Samuel’s party at his therapy facility. Tomorrow, he will be three years old. I made cupcakes, and they were beautiful. I worked so hard on them, wanting to make this day special for him. I have a hard time when his birthday comes. The array of emotions is difficult to describe. I am so very proud of him and his precious life. I am ever heartbroken that he doesn’t understand this day. I am filled with an aching grief that I am thankful he cannot see, cannot know right now. 

I dropped the cupcakes. I couldn’t hold it all- Sam, his diaper bag, drinks, and 24 cupcakes in a perfectly displayed cupcake holder. So, I dropped the cupcakes. And, I cried. A lot. But, I know these tears really have nothing to do with cupcakes at all. Having them fall was the proverbial straw. 

I relive each month and year that has passed, as his birthday draws closer. It is not intentional; it just is. I think of all the things I want for Samuel in his life. And, how I would give my own life just so he can have a productive well-rounded one. I think of the infantile seizures he had as a newborn, the feeding difficulties. I remember the day that I absolutely knew he was not developing normally, and I remember the terror in my heart. I think of last year’s birthday and the head banging and screams. The stimming and rocking and crying. 

After the tears dry, I will remember to be thankful for the progress he has made. The smiles. OH, the smiles! The joy of his presence in our home. The undying love that Scott, Maggie, and I have to give him for the rest of our lives. The security of knowing his heavenly Father holds him safely each day, as he learns and traverses his path. And, his therapy facility. The staff will never truly know the impact they have had on our family. They make me know that Samuel is covered in love each hour he is with them. There really is so much to be grateful for- the greatest of these is Samuel, my son.