This week we got the news that my son does not carry the genetic anomaly that resides in me. This genetic shadow that's followed me around since my conception. It's something that I cannot shake, no matter how hard I try. It permeates my life and almost every thought I have.
This incredible news hit me hard and swift. It brought me to my knees, made me cry, tilted my head towards the heavens, and had me utter thanks to God.
The news of Tate's negative results came fast and quick, and interestedly, left me just the same. All I was left with was thankfulness. The news of Tate was so different than the news of Trek. While Trek's news left me wallowing in darkness, sadness, and utter despair, Tate's news left me peaceful.
Trek was my ocean. My unpredictable tide of grief. My unsure footing. My fall on my face. My tears without reason. My neon light of "what if". My questions. My unanswers. My fault...
Tate was my river. My predictableness. My fleet of foot. My get up because it's okay. My tears of a mother that knows that pregnancy isn't a guaranteed gift of "perfectness". My flickering light of hope. My questions. My unanswers. Not my fault...
My boys guide me through life. At times, it's a rocky ride of which I hold on tightly for dear life. And during those moments, I thank God for my life vests of those whom I hold so dear. And, at times, it's a kick-back-throw-your-feet-up-and-enjoy-the-ride, kind of life.
Right now, I'm smart enough to realize that life does throw you curves, but I'm also smart enough to know to enjoy the ride, because this is the only one you've got.
So, join me in throwing up your glass, and saying "cheers"! Let's sit back and love where this life takes us.
Here's to the river.