I wish someone would have told me…

Amy Stack, mom to Lael and 6 other beautiful children, shares her potent words on what she wished she would have been told after receiving her daughter’s Down syndrome diagnosis.

I wish someone would have told me…

As I cradled my sweet baby girl, falling in love with her almond-shaped eyes, snuggling her close to my heart as I listened to the doctors, the nurses, and the therapists; as I sat surrounded by pamphlets and support group fliers; as I googled and found so much sadness…

I wish someone would have told me that one day she’d make me laugh a deep, belly laugh that not many can get out of me.

I wish someone would have told me that we’d sit and read books together and that she would have her favorites memorized with hand motions and silly voices.

I wish someone would have told me that she just might be a born entertainer and could command a room with a song, a microphone, a dance, or a silly face.

I wish someone would have told me that she’d quietly sit and color and occasionally look up at her sister’s page and exclaim, “Good job!”

I wish someone would have told me that she’d be the first one up the ladder and down the slide at the playground, and would make three friends on the way.

I wish someone would have told me that she’d be the one holding us one day, pulling our heads to her heart and rubbing our backs when we don’t feel well.

I wish someone would have told me that she’d give me a kiss and then say “thank you,” that she’d play dress up like her favorite movie character, that she’d do magic tricks, sing songs, say her prayers.

.

I wish someone would have told me that all this love and joy and adventure would be my everyday experience. All these things…in one day. And though it’s mixed with frustration, difficulty, and a lot of work, every moment I get to spend with her I feel pure love.

I wish I would have thrown away the pamphlets sooner and enjoyed the baby days more. I wish I would have spent my energy doing less and loving more. But we have the rest of our lives.

Thank you, my sweet girl, for teaching me what I have said I believed all these years: that nothing is impossible.