Toes edge up against the starting line. You’ve prepared for this marathon. It’s a long race ahead, but the endless hours of training and conditioning assure you that you’re ready. Laces tight on your running shoes. You’ve never run this race but your confidence is fierce and that’s all that matters. The other runners beside you get into position. If they can do this…we can do this.
You see, this race is not what you think. This marathon is parenthood. It’s what you’ve prepared for. It’s a long race ahead, but the endless hours of learning assure you that you’re ready. You’ve never run this race but your confidence is fierce, and that’s all that matters. The other mothers and fathers beside you get into position. If they can do this…we can do this.
You have all prepared for the exact same experience… to have a sweet little baby that you’ve dreamed big dreams for. That perfect baby that you can’t wait to lay your eyes on, to smother in sweet kisses, and to breathe deep that new baby smell that lingers in your nostrils. You’re ready. It’s what you’ve prepared for.
Deep breath, final positions, fingers against the ground. The starting gun shot sounds. Off the other runners go but before you in your lane, stands Everest. The world’s highest mountain, one of the most challenging and rarely conquered peaks. Panic sets in. This was not the race you prepared for. You were ready for even terrain, small hills, and gradual ascents… not knife-edge ridges, switchbacks, wild climates, and a nearly impossible summit.
That was the scene we saw before us the moment we met Reece, our now almost two year old son. We received an unexpected diagnosis of Down syndrome at birth which sent our perfect world into a paralyzing spiral. Raising a child with special needs was the Everest we were facing. A journey we had not prepared for.
We wanted the easy path. We wanted to take our baby home and live a normal life, but instead we were taking our son to specialists to determine if he had heart defects, gastrointestinal issues, hearing and vision loss, and meeting with genetic counselors to figure out how this could have happened to a 28 year old mother and father. Limits were placed on Reece by doctors, specialists, and therapists before he even had a chance to prove himself otherwise. The thought of reaching the summit of our Everest was getting even more impossible.
You learn that climbing a mountain requires very different gear than running. You unlace your running shoes and slide on the hiking boots. Gone are the light-weight running tanks and shorts, you will need layers of protective clothing. Hands you expected to be free now grip trekking poles. Helmet, harness, ropes, carabineers…the list goes on and on. Each challenge you face calls for a new tool you’ve never used.
Day by day, little by little, you start the journey up the mountain. You’re still on that same journey that other mothers are on, but your race is entirely different. You’re still going to reach that finish line, it’s just going to take longer than you expected. You are faced with an obstacle you didn’t plan for, but know it’s a challenge you are willing to take on. Because that sweet baby is worth every hard day you face, they deserve the same fierce confidence you brought to this race.
There are days that we wish Reece didn’t have to have physical, occupational, and speech therapy. Days that we want to cry because we lost another therapist to another state or a better job. Days we wish someone could jump over the confusing hurdles the State has in place for the Early Intervention program for us. Days that we question why God chose us to be Reece’s parents?
At almost two, Reece is just now taking those long awaited baby steps. A few weeks ago, he was bravely learning how to stand on his own, plant his feet and take a few steps at a time. But now! He is boldly walking. This is a skill that most typically developing children achieve months before the age of two. Was it hard for us to see other children walking before Reece? Absolutely yes. Comparison slowly crept into the corners of our minds, but just as we were about to surrender to that trap, we were reminded that even though Reece achieved a milestone nearly a year later than his peers…He. Still. Achieved. It’s no secret that he will have his own Everest to face, but we are right here with him climbing by his side.
Which race do you find yourself running today? Maybe the slow and steady marathon or maybe the unexpected climb of Everest. Whichever journey you’re on, remember we serve a big God who gives us the strength to run the race, will you be faithful to complete it?
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” – 2 Timothy 4:7
-Original post featured on Mark Rempel's a1000words blog on July 23, 2013: read it here!
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