Seven years ago, our family welcomed our special-needs son, Chaim Boruch, into our lives. I remember the tubes, wires, monitors, all connected to my baby. I remember the team of doctors, the surgeons, the medications, and the tense atmosphere in the Intensive Care Unit at UCSF. I remember looking at my child with the heart-wrenching tightness that filled my every cell. I remember the oxygen flowing to my child. I remember the oxygen I learned to breathe on that 14th floor of my nightmarish days.

I actually thought I knew how to breathe up until that point in my life. But I didn’t. I also thought I knew what “faith” and “trust” meant. But I didn’t.

Until that special day.

I say “special” now, and didn’t know it then. I, too, went through all the “healthy” phases of such a challenging moment. Anger. Self-pity. Denial. Frustration. Wonder. Yet, after time, tears and deep reflection, I can now call that day “special.”

I’m not the same woman, wife and mother that I was. And even my heart beats differently, a rhythm that I didn’t know existed. I have learned the beauty of being open, of letting go, of loving what is different, of acceptance, of forgiveness—both of myself and others. I am learning about myself, my essence, my soul. I am on a journey, embracing a life of simplicities that only we can perceive. Dancing to a melody only we can create. Just Chaim Boruch and I.

And for this alone, I will always be grateful.

So, dear friends, I welcome you to join me on my journey. A journey that vacillates between the rock-bottom moments and the sky-high, euphoric milestones.

Of everything different. Of everything the same.

Of everything simple. Of all things special.

Welcome to Simply Special, a blog about a mother’s endless love for her special-needs son.