Life is all about perspective. That in itself carries so much power. When we first got my daughter's diagnosis, my hopes and dreams of what my family was going to look like suddenly vanished in a split second. I felt robbed. I remember crying in my bedroom with my sisters while I was nursing and feeling completely helpless and lost. Not only was I a new mom, but my baby was just given a diagnosis that I could not wrap my head around. Blind? How could this happen? I've never known anyone to be blind let alone a child. Why my baby? Why us? Were we being punished? While I certainly had made mistakes, I had always tried to be a good person. I was involved in community service, attended church, didn't drink until I was 21, saved myself for marriage. I took the pregnancy guidelines to the extreme and cut out completely all deli meat, soft cheeses, alcohol, caffeine...not one Dr. Pepper people for 9 months! I took care of my body and exercised. I had done everything "right." We've seen people make different life choices and have a healthy, typically developing child. Why would God let this happen? This perspective weighed heavily on me.

The blessing of perspective is that we have a choice in how we view things. When we change the way we view a situation, we change the way we feel about it.

I wish I could give August 2016 Caroline a hug. I wish I could tell her that God was leading her down an unexpected path but one filled with more love and joy than she ever could have dreamed of. I wish I could tell her that her life was going to be pretty normal and that she's stronger than she ever realized. I wish I could tell her how much happiness that baby was going to bring day in and day out.

God had prepared me for this point in my life. He had equipped me to be the mom of my perfect Presley. I can now look back on my life and see how God was molding my heart and building my community of support that I had no idea I would need years later (other than my own family who I could write a novel about...more on each of them at a later date).

I've mentioned before that I went to Trinity Christian Academy from K-12 grade. I spent 13 years at TCA. It was there that an introverted girl found her way. I was able to make mistakes, learn, and grow in a Christ-centered environment. TCA helped shape me to be the person that I am today (and also made me the wordy writer that I am🤷🏼‍♀️thank you history/english essay tests). TCA helped prepare me for this journey. It's not just a school; it is a family. I've always known this to be true but I experienced it in its truest form when I came face to face with the unimaginable. I know TCA is not for everyone, but it was home for me.

God has been opening doors since the day we found out Presley was blind. When I began to choose joy, I started to see our purpose more clearly. I may never know the "why" on this side of heaven, but I am vowing to take the lessons that God is teaching me from this and turn it into good.

When I changed my perspective, it changed everything.

At first, we just wanted a fix. Of course we did. But now that we have educated ourselves on the blind community, our perspective has changed. Do we still wish Presley could see? A thousand times yes. But we have seen that many blind people are living happy, fulfilled, independent lives. They are capable. It's the sighted world that we live in that tells them they can't do something or feels sorry for them. Shame on us. My brother-in-law, Ryan Spring (who also started teaching himself Braille right after we got the diagnosis) read Seeing Home: The Ed Lucas Story and then recommended it and passed it on to us. We're so thankful he did. Ed Lucas was an Emmy-winning blind broadcaster who refused to let his blindness stop him from reaching his dreams. As Ed says, "I never viewed my blindness as a disability, just an inconvenience." Powerful. Blind is not going to be a word we shun from using. It is a part of Presley, but it does not define her. I believe in my daughter: blind or not.

Michael and I knew pretty early on we wanted to start a nonprofit. We didn't know exactly what it was going to look like, but we knew we wanted to help other families and raise money for research. The impact that a nonprofit can have on families searching for hope and answers is immeasurable. Instead of saying why us? I now find myself saying why not us? Not long after we moved to Frisco, I looked at Michael and said, "we're going to cure blindness." He gave me that look like, pump the brakes, blondie. Curing blindness, especially congenital blindness, is a tall, tall order. Absolutely. But we have the resources, we have the passion, we have the ability to make a difference. There is promising research taking place, and we will be a part of that conversation! We have hope.

I've connected with lots of moms already who just found me through social media. About a month before we went for our last round of surgeries, we began brainstorming and figuring out how we were going to implement our nonprofit. Because there are so many different eye diseases that can lead to blindness and eyes are so complex, knowing the right places to donate to isn't so easy though. I knew that I wanted to help other families, but I also felt strongly that we had to be a part of continuing the research that is taking place. Enter Dr. Capone.

When we were waiting in pre-op for Presley's first surgery in April, Dr. Capone came by as he usually does to go over a few things before they took her back. I kind of get that feeling like a celebrity just walked through the door when he enters. He's the man...in case you hadn't heard already. We went over what the plan was and then he began telling us about his nonprofit that he and his partner, Dr. Trese, had founded. The mission of their foundation is to help families going through exactly what we were going through and to raise funds for research. They base their science work in a 2+million dollar molecular genetics lab on the campus of Oakland University that they built with independent donor contributions. Even with all the research we had done, which Dr. Capone has always told us he can tell we know our stuff by the questions we ask, we never came across this nonprofit. We had no clue this even existed. He told us they were in the process of revising the organization, and he wanted to see if we would be interested in joining forces with him. He said that from getting to know us he thought we would be the perfect fit. While the board had previously been made up of primarily doctors in their practice, he said that they could benefit from having a family who has been affected personally by a retinal disease on their team: a family that can connect families, relate, provide support, give expectations for surgeries: a family that has the passion to raise funds for research because their child could potentially benefit from it. He also acknowledged they didn't have a very strong social media presence. (I know someone that could surely help with that!🙋🏼) My jaw was on the floor...as my thighs were burning from doing squats to keep my hungry baby from crying. God is so good. We're just getting our feet wet, but we're so excited for what is to come. Stay tuned!

Michael and I are walking, sometimes stumbling, on this path as obediently as we can. Bad things will happen in your life. Pain is inevitable. Everyone is struggling with something whether they want you to see it or not. Everyone has a story. By sharing our story, we hope we can help someone else find their hope and their purpose.

I'll leave you with a song I've listened to every day since probably October and rarely get through it without crying. Sean Mcconnell's "A Beautiful Rose." There is a lesson in the pain; a beautiful rose in the thorn bush. Presley, you are our Beautiful Rose.