I started my own personal blog with these words two and a half years ago, but the same can be said today.
So much has changed since then, she is walking and talking now. She is in the preschool program for children with disabilities. She is fed mostly through her g-button. She is now profoundly deaf in her left ear. The episodes that once wracked her body have been absent for a wonderfully long time. She is hilarious and full of joy and we are now able to be a part of her world in a way that wasn't possible two years ago.
Still I wonder and wait, will we ever get a diagnosis? Will her progressive hearing loss affect her other ear? Will she ever outgrow the need of her feeding tube? Will the episodes come back? Will she always be a sick kid?
A life without diagnosis is one long exercise in waiting. We can treat symptoms as they arise but we cannot anticipate their arrival. As a toddler, no one could say with any certainty if she would ever walk or talk...but she did. Today, no one can say whether her condition is truly stable, if she will continue to improve or if one day, she will begin to decline. I'm eargerly anticipating her well-child check next month because this is the only time she will be age appropriate with her milestones, with the exception of gross motor. I don't know if this will ever happen again.
I don't dwell on the future much, because it is an exercise in futility. I could paint myself the rosiest picture possible and set myself up for heartbreak if it never comes to pass, or I could paint a scary picture to prepare myself for the possibilities and cause my heart undue stress. Either way, it won't change things for us. We won't know what the future holds until we meet it face to face.
Our life is a neverending drive through the hill country, we never really know what is waiting for us over the next hilltop. Sometimes we are met with the the most beautiful view anyone has ever laid eyes on, and sometimes we find ourselves on site at a massive traffic accident, cars piled up as far as the eye can see. There is no warning until we coast over the hill. It is the wildest roadtrip of my life. My hope is, as it always has been, that on the other side of one of these hills, we will pass a billboard with our names on it with an answer spelled out for us in bold, neon print...and if we just can't get an answer, then at the very least, maybe we'll pass a sign that hints at what lies just over the next hill.