I look at Ollie and wonder how tall he would appear if he could still stand up. I see other two-three year olds and wonder how he would look playing alongside them. Would he be a leader? Happy to follow? Shy? Outgoing? Sweet for sure. He's never been anything but sweet. Gentle hearted and always acutely aware when others were sad, empathetic like his mom.
Would he be musical like Dad? Musically inept like Mom? Would he have played sports one day? T-ball? Soccer? Become a runner? Play football like Grandpa? That one is doubtful, at least with our builds.
What subjects in school would he most enjoy? Would he be good at making friends? Would his hair stay blond? What direction would life take him? So many things to wonder, and they all break my heart in some way.
MLD only gave us a little over 2 years to see our son's beautiful personality through his voice and actions. Then those were stolen away. It's left him trapped in a broken body, unable to communicate or move.
Now it's stealing his beautiful smile. His smile, his absolutely perfect, chubby cheeked grin. It makes me feel sick to know that it will soon be gone too. It takes 26 muscles to smile, muscles that he's losing control of. We can get about one smile a day, and they are unpredictable, if you're not in the room, you'll miss it. If I miss a daily smile I break down into tears. I can't miss them! How many more smiles does he have left to give? I want to see them all!
We wanted to see him smile every day of our lives. We wanted to see him smile as he got on the bus for kindergarten. We wanted to see him smile and blush when we'd tease him about his first girlfriend. We wanted to see his excited smile as he headed to college. But these are smiles we'll never get to see.