I tell myself TSC will not define my child. It will not define who he will become. Who he can become.

Yet fear lingers. It tries to overtake.

It attempts to invade my mind. My husband’s mind.

was that a seizure. that eye movement. that arm twitch. that look.

It wants to crush all of our hopes and dreams for our little one. It wants to tell us he can not, he will not.

I want to fight. I want to have the strength to fight. To fight for my precious one. To show TSC you have no power.

You, my little one, give me that strength.

You do not know what TSC is. You will not let it define you. You smile. You roll over. You reach out for me to hold you.

You triumph daily. Every moment.