Our Son Was Born With Cystic Fibrosis

Parenting can be hard on a good day. Before kids, we always dream or imagine what life is going to be like when we get older. We’ll get married at 25, have kids at 27 and have our dream careers. At least that was my thought when I was 12. You don’t think about the things that can go wrong when you’re young. We’re strong, and basically indestructible — at least that’s how I felt until the day I had my first baby.

When I had my first child, I knew what those rich and powerful people in movies and books felt like — you know, once they have a family, now they have a weakness and people come after their kids to get money out of them. Except in my case, I now knew what it felt like to worry about stuff that wasn’t even a thought in my mind before kids. I could go on forever with this one, but to name a few — when they’re learning to walk, you’re afraid they’re going to smash their face into the floor or a very sharp corner, they’re going to drown when you take them swimming, they’ll have SIDS, etc…

After my second, I thought I had it in the bag. I knew what having kids was all about at this point and I was determined to not be quite such a helicopter parent with my second. It’s a good thing I wasn’t, because my girl is crazy and does things that my son would never think of. (She’s been off the diving board at the tender age of three, and also got her first stitch at the same age).

When it was time to give birth to my third child, it seemed like a series of unfortunate events unfolded. Besides for…