Archie, our oldest child, has Down syndrome, a genetic condition that affects all areas of development. My husband and I learned of Archie’s diagnosis when I was five-months pregnant, after a routine ultrasound revealed that our baby had a severe congenital heart defect that would need to be repaired in infancy by way of open-heart surgery. My husband and I were daunted by the diagnosis, but we kept our chins up. We worked hard to redefine our expectations of parenthood and by the time Archie was born, we were excited to welcome our baby, just as he was.

You hear parents say so all the time, but it’s true: Down syndrome doesn’t define my child; it is just a part of who he is. Without the extra 21st chromosome, present at the moment of his conception, Archie wouldn’t have Down syndrome and Archie wouldn’t be Archie. I cannot imagine Archie any other way than the wonderfully-made gift that he is, and because of that I would never choose to wish away his extra chromosome.

Of course I sometimes wonder who Archie may have been if he didn’t have Down syndrome. Would he have been as dexterous and inquisitive as his brother Jack, who constantly takes apart tiny toys just to see how they work? Or would he have been as determined and physical as his sister Kit, who always knows just what she wants and is never deterred from doing what needs to be done to have things her way? But when I really spend time thinking about these things I realize that, yes, Archie has these qualities, too, but that he does these things in his own way. And certainly that would have been so even without the extra chromosome.

But time has taught me that it is folly to think that way. I would never have been able to write that just a few short years ago, but I can now. Time has taught me to love Archie as he is, to love unconditionally. And while it has always been easy to love Archie, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it isn’t always easy to rise above the way it feels sometimes to have a child with special needs. But I can say that the good feelings outweigh the not-so-good ones, always. And since nothing in life worth loving isn’t without struggle it is easy to ignore the not-so-good and embrace what’s better, what’s best. If you’ve walked in shoes like mine you know exactly what I mean. If you haven’t, I hope that you will have the privilege to love someone less-than-perfect someday. I promise you that it makes all the difference in the world.