I don’t even know where to start. Yesterday, Scott and I had our hearts broken all over again. Just like the day we found out that Owen had a stroke, only worse – so much worse. This time it wasn’t a week-old baby that we loved because he grew inside me, a love that comes from hormones, and instinct. This love we have for him now comes from really knowing him. His quirks, his silly mischievous ways, hearing him say “wuv oo mommy” multiple times every day, hugging and kissing him, burying my face in his hair to smell his sweaty little boy smell, sitting with him in his chair each night before bed and rocking with him while singing our special song, watching him absolutely beam while holding his big sister’s hand, watching his awe of planes, his love of busses, and anything else that has wheels, seeing him work tirelessly in therapy four times a week without protest, or whining, or stopping because it’s too hard… I know him now. I don’t only love him because of what he is – I love him because of who he is.