The End

I've oftentimes wondered why I've written this.

I still don't know.

I don't know what solace it may bring me, or Nora, or a random mom struggling with a confusing diagnosis of her unborn child.

Or maybe I'll never see these plastered pink blog walls again. But I know that our written story ends here. It's time to carry with me my newfound confidence in myself, my family and my daughter, compliments of Miss Nora Grace, and celebrate each and every day together!

I've seen a lot of women write about their children with a diagnosis. And oftentimes they say, "I wouldn't have my child any other way. They were put on this Earth exactly as God intended. He hand picked my child for me and for these reasons (insert reasons here)."

I don't feel that way. I feel like Nora is a blessing. I feel like Nora is way stronger than any kiddo I've met thus far. I feel like God has granted us the pleasure of being her parents. In her short life I've learned more than I could have imagined, gained more than I knew possible, and through it all secured an appreciation for life that I was certainly lacking. But I absolutely would have Nora exactly as she is, plus one more chromosome if that were a choice.

No. It's not because I don't love Nora for every ounce of her being, exactly as she is.
No. It's not because I hate her having Turner's Syndrome.
No. It's not because I haven't accepted or embraced this diagnosis yet.

It's because it sucks that that one missing chromosome makes for so many struggles on ones life. It's totally not fair. I'm not excited to hold Nora's hand through the shots and the tears and the doctors appointments and the hard discussions. I'm so terribly sad that I can't just take her place and do it for her. But I can't, so I can only be her mother. I can be there for her in every way possible, except for this: I can't make the shots go away. I can't make the doctor appointments stop. I can't promise her heart will not have more problems. I can't give her children of her own. I can't make social situations easier to understand. I can't make math unconfusing (that's a word, right? ;)). I can only sit back and watch and pray that God grant us all of the joy and strength and laughter he has thus far. It's because of Him she is here with us today, it's because of Him we have managed the dark times, and it's because of Him that we will continue to thrive.

Turner's Syndrome is so far from the end of the world. At the end of the day, it's no deal breaker for a happy and full life. But it's certainly something worth noting, something challenging, something no one WANTS to have on their plate- mother or daughter.

But, here we are.
So, let's turn lemons into lemonade, and get on with it.

From the very bottom of my heart I thank every one of you for the support, guidance, encouragement and love. I can't express what a joy it has been to have you all alongside us through this journey. And the love you have shown our darling girl--it's the greatest joy I could have ever asked for.

Thank you.