Receiving Oliver’s diagnosis was beyond difficult.

We were told amongst many things that he would most likely need assistive devices for walking, possibly breathing, and have no quality of life.

I remember being pregnant, and each day progressed the fear inside me grew and grew.

I did not fear having my child, because there was never a point after his diagnosis that I wanted to take the doctors’ up on the abortion they kept pushing me towards.

Honestly, my fear stemmed from me not knowing or being able to picture what my child would look like.

It was almost like my thoughts came out of some alien movie. I knew my child would come out a human, with the previously counted ten toes and ten fingers. Two eyes, a nose, mouth etc....

Yet I could not picture what he would look like with everything pushed into my mind like breathing equipment, assistive devices.

I mean, what does someone with “no quality of life”  look like?

This was never something I prepared for in the baby books I read, or even anything I saw in the medical books I studied while in college.

But time went on, much shorter than planned, and Oliver came just shy of 31 weeks gestation. Everything I had feared vanished into thin air.

Now, in my hands, I held the most beautiful baby I had ever laid eyes on.

Here we are, three years later, and I still get compliments almost daily at how handsome my Oliver is. He sports the blondest hair you've ever seen alongside ocean blue eyes.

Intellectually, he speaks above average for his age, and that just adds to his cuteness.

Whenever we are out and about, zooming in his wheelchair, I never fail to hear the sighs and “cute” compliments.

“Bless his heart, he is adorable.” “Oh my goodness, look at that smile.” “Awwhhhh, look at him in his wheelchair!” They go on and on..

But what happens when he gets older, and isn't a tiny three year old in a wheelchair?

People will no longer be shocked to see such a small child mastering a wheelchair, but just a teenager or adult in one.

The “cute” compliments stop coming and I fear the worst.. The rude comments, the stares, possibly even the bullying.

I know I have a ways to go and am hopeful I can teach my son to handle any situation properly, but with the news we see nowadays, a worried mom can’t help but do just that.....worry.  

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