I fell in love today.    
In the same moment, my heart was broken.   
I want to tell you about J.  He’s got sandy brown hair, blue eyes, and a smile that will knock your socks off.   He’s ten months old and has spinal muscular atrophy, which means that he’s paralyzed from the neck down.  He isn’t expected to live much longer than a year old; he’s on a ventilator to breathe, has a tracheal tube, and a GI tube to feed.    One of my nurses called me today and asked me to talk on the phone with him.  He can’t move, but he loves sensory stimuli, much like I do.   So I cooed in his ear, telling him what a handsome, beautiful baby he was.  Jane put the phone back to her own ear and said, “Ash, you should have seen how his eyes lit up when he heard your voice.  You’ve got to come meet him.”  So I did.  I went on a trek across the hospital to find a stuffed animal, first.  I found him a green fuzzy wiener dog, and I took the steps two at a time to get to the fifth floor, where his room is.   When I sat down next to him, his eyes found my face, to connect with the voice he had just smiled at over the phone.   He may not be able to move the rest of his body, but his smile is beautiful.   I played with his hair, helped him run his fingers through mine, and helped him play peek-a-boo.  He can’t laugh… he can’t coo back… he will never be able to say my name or anyone’s for that matter… but his smile and his eyes said a million words in the short time of the hour that I was there next to him.  For a few minutes, the world around me completely disappeared.   I wondered what his family would think of me playing with him like he was my own.   I continued to talk with the nurse, asking about how his body works, how she plays with them… and then came upon the topic of his parents.  My heart was broken when I learned they had abandoned him, unable to care for a poor paralyzed baby who would never crawl, say “momma” or potty train.  Hell, he probably won’t even make it to his second birthday.    I can’t remember the last time I felt so sad for another human being.  This child was given a set of recessive genes that allowed him a normal first two months of his life but quickly progressed into complete paralysis within eight months… and this child has no one to call mommy, even if he could say it.    Fortunately, the nurses have essentially adopted him.  I am allowed to come visit him whenever I want to.  I can’t wait to hold him… to show him the beautiful things around him that his parents will never do for him.  I’m not his mother, nor are any of us who love this child; I am, however, someone who can help make sure that his last year here in this world is something worth while.   It was then that I knew that where I am, right this minute, is exactly where I need to be. 

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