Owen,

My heart is breaking for you, and I don’t even know what’s wrong yet. Your daddy tells me to be positive for you, but mamas assume the very worst sometimes. Even though I don’t physically share your burden, know that I have always carried it deeply in my heart. It stings me to the very core that I can’t just kiss this better.

Your eyes don’t work like they should, little Owen. It’s scary and I’ve spent time and time again on my knees praying that somehow there will be a way to fix them. But I am learning to accept that sometimes miracles come in different ways than what we’d hoped for.

I’m scared you’ll never see the waves crashing in the ocean. Or the way I look at you so fondly when I go to pick you up after your nap. I’m scared you’ll never know the beauty of the autumn leaves falling from the trees, of their vibrant amber and red colors. I’m scared you will always and forever be in the dark.

I’m praying for you, little Owen. For your heart, for my heart, for our family to get through this. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s something, but it’s fixable. We won’t know until tomorrow.

And no matter what, know that you are brave, and you are strong.

I love you so.

xoxo, Mama