Editor’s Note: Today’s guest author is Kara Dedert. Kara is one of our writers for Not Alone, our blog for parents of kids with special needs. Here’s Kara…

I sat in the folding chair at my kid’s school today, grinning at my son and daughter up on the stage. It was the annual Mother’s Day program and my heart overflowed watching them—my son staring at me unwaveringly and my daughter sneaking shy glances my way.

Next to me my other son, Calvin, sat in his wheelchair, listening to the kid’s voices fill the gym. He grinned his signature side-smile at the songs and tried to join in, vocalizing over his trach.

I felt so much joy and sorrow in one moment; joy in what is and sorrow at what’s been lost. How can a simple holiday feel so complicated?

I reached over and held his hand, letting him know I was there. And then I looked up and locked eyes with my kids on the stage, gave a big thumbs up, and let them know too, I’m here—I’m always here for you.

That’s what we do as mothers, we carry on bravely, even when our hearts feel like they might break.

We smile and tell our kids that everything will be okay, even when our world feels upside down.

We reach over and hug our child, letting them feel joy and love and save our tears for the shower.

We learn to delight in what is and let go of what illness and disability has robbed us and our kids.

We’ve learned behavioral interventions, tracheotomy care, g-tube care and have become therapists in our own right.

We stay up countless nights comforting our child through seizures, illnesses, and hospital stays.

We’ve persevered even when we wanted to run the other way. 

We’ve discovered value and beauty that takes our breath away, while the world passes by.

We’ve wrestled with God in dark places and experienced grace that’s changed us.

We’ve grown through things we never thought we’d survive.

We’ve been stretched to the point we’re afraid we’ll break.

We’ve seen joy come in the morning after sorrow’s long night.

We hurt deeply. 

We love deeply. 

Mother’s Day; it reminds me just how complicated, lovely and rich my life is.

***********************************************************************************************************
Kara Dedert and her husband Darryl have been blessed with four kids — Sophie, Noah, Evelyn, and Calvin. Kara and Darryl had anticipated a life overseas but after five years as missionaries in Cambodia they had a son, Calvin, born with a neuronal migration disorder and severe brain malformations. Their lives have changed drastically but God continues to display His faithfulness and grace. Kara blogs at En Route.