Staying Present

It’s been quite a journey. A Trisomy 18 diagnosis can be a rough one, especially when the medical community gives your child a death sentence. Granted, the mortality rate is high. It occurs in 1 in 3000 births, and most babies do not make it to birth or too far beyond. Less than 10 % live to see their first birthdays.

When we were given Zane’s Trisomy 18 diagnosis five days after he was born, we were told he would die. Soon. Like within months. This changes one’s outlook on life. Substantially. After I came to grips with it all, I realized the importance of staying present in the moment. I may not have tomorrow with him. Then that thought extended into I may not have tomorrow with anyone—may not have it myself.

Meeting Zane—knowing I may not have him in my life all that long—made me experience first-hand what staying present means. Before then, it was a nice thing on paper, but I had dreams and goals and future plans. Now I tamp some of those dominating thoughts down a bit, knowing life can throw anything at me at any time. I have learned to remain present, and I am much happier and calmer because of it. At the same time, staying present has allowed me to take more chances because, after all, I may not have tomorrow.