In many ways, we are lucky. We have very few doctor’s appointments because there is nothing any doctor can do. We don’t spend our days in and out of hospitals, our child doesn’t have to undergo debilitating treatments, and we do not have to watch our child suffer in order to get better.
We are able to enjoy the time we have with Sam because we are so aware that the time we have is finite. We know this is a gift. The lack of a chance has in many ways allowed us to be happy—happier than we were before Sam’s diagnosis. We are so much more appreciative of everything we have, so aware that we are lucky in so many ways.
But I am still jealous of those kids. Jealous that they might have a chance at life. Jealous of the hope they feel. Jealous of the treatments they undergo. And for this, I am very sorry. I wouldn’t wish what they are going through on anyone. I wouldn’t wish the loss of a child on anyone. I would, however, give almost anything for a chance for our son, instead. And because that’s not possible, I will focus on making every day count.
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