Change.

Something has changed, I think.

I remember our life a few months ago. I remember feeling the emotions that I had feared I may feel, as we had been previously warned by our Down syndrome program coordinator that they may surface. Dylan was then 15 months old, an age which was suppose to yield major growth and progression. I didn't see this happening, thus I was not overly surprised to find myself feeling quite badly. I remember writing this post. This post about how frustrated and discouraged I was feeling that Dylan wasn't progressing at the speed that I desired. That he wasn't doing the things that I wanted him to be doing. Surely, there were milestones to be met, had he been following my rules.

Since then, something has changed.

Is it Dylan who has changed? Sure, he has made great gains in the few months since I had written that post. He says "mama" (melts my heart every time!). He army crawls and rolls like a champ. Since beginning a gluten-free diet, his spit up has decreased dramatically and he's beginning to eat baby food with a bit of texture.

Is it me who has changed? I think it may be, but why exactly? Is it acceptance? Patience? Understanding? Appreciation?

Is it, above all, love?

It's difficult for me now to relate to that person who wrote that post. Just as it was probably difficult for that person who wrote the post to relate to the person who had sobbed uncontrollably at the confirmation of Dylan's diagnosis 18 months ago.

It has been a process. It is a process, I am finding. A roller coaster for sure, but lately the ride has slowed down considerably. The drops and loops are few and far between. It's not scary anymore.

The ride has grown familiar to me.

As a matter of fact, being the non-roller coaster type of person that I am, this has, surprisingly, been the most important ride of my life.