I never expected to entertain the idea, but I’m learning that there may be a treatment available for my son’s condition. He has a type of dwarfism. This condition doesn’t imply illness or limit his ability to form friendships or enjoy life; he’s simply smaller in stature. And I couldn’t be prouder to call myself his mother. He has taught me that beauty and perfection exist in all forms.
If I had discovered this potential treatment at the time of his diagnosis, perhaps my feelings would differ. But even that thought is hard to grasp. I might come off as an unloving parent. Who wouldn’t want to alleviate their child’s challenges? After all, the first few years of his life have been tough. Yet, as his mom, I recognize that his size is an integral part of his identity. I cherish him just as he is.
The medical field is remarkable. Thanks to their hard work, my son is thriving. He has been closely monitored to ensure his health and happiness. Now, there’s a drug that could potentially stimulate bone growth—offering a chance to increase his height and perhaps reduce the numerous complications linked to dwarfism. But I still harbor fears.
I fear losing the boy I love so dearly. The thought of altering his essence petrifies me. By giving him this treatment, I might strip away one of the traits I adore most about him: his small stature. It’s a characteristic that has helped shape his resilience and patience. He’s vibrant, outgoing, and often remarkably loud. Sometimes, what we perceive as flaws are actually stepping stones to greatness, and I dread the possibility of taking that away from him.
As a mother, I believe my role is to nurture my children’s self-love and to celebrate their uniqueness. Our world is filled with quick fixes—hair dyes, teeth whitening, extreme diets, and more—promising to “improve” us. Instead of fostering self-acceptance, we’re inundated with messages urging us to correct our so-called flaws. As I navigate this confusing landscape, it has become even more crucial for me to instill a sense of self-love in my son. Why can’t we embrace our differences?
Diversity is where true beauty lies. I never imagined I would have a child with dwarfism, yet I cannot fathom altering it. My son is perfect as he is. While his stature may be small, his spirit is anything but. His bright blue eyes and infectious smile captivate everyone around him. Why would I want to change that? Why take something extraordinary and make it commonplace?
Still, the allure of this treatment lingers. My son has faced numerous tests and medical appointments. A cure could mean he reaches the bathroom sink with ease, rides a bike without adjustments, and experiences a world that feels more accessible. Many of the issues he faces—like ear and leg surgeries—could become a thing of the past. So why would I deny him the chance for improved health?
If this treatment is offered, I find myself questioning my role in this decision. I worry that the good intentions behind this choice may lead to unintended consequences. As he matures, will he appreciate my decision, or will he resent me for changing who he is? This is a decision I am fortunate to consider; many families would give anything to be in my position. Yet, the weight of this choice is daunting.
Fortunately, my son is only four years old, and the drug remains in clinical trials. Time is on my side—time to learn, observe, and wait. Perhaps a decision will come, and when it does, I will struggle but also recognize the privilege of navigating this path.