“Aidan was born with a rare genetic disorder causing permanent developmental disabilities, but we didn’t know that until he was much older. In the beginning, we lived from comorbid diagnosis to diagnosis. Each one required appointment after appointment with different pediatric specialists, and therapies on top of therapies, which created a bleak outcome for his prognosis. We were scared, feeling more and more hopeless, and alone. 

While we were encouraged not to limit Aidan to his diagnosis, it was hard. We were often left with the impression that he would never talk, walk, feed himself, read, or write. We continued to do whatever was needed to get him the therapy that would be most beneficial to helping him thrive.

At one of our lowest points, we learned about Family Hope Foundation, an amazing organization that has proven to be a source of hope and solace, while providing a truly comforting community. 

Family Hope Foundation quickly became a constant light in our lives, impacting our morale while they provided fellowship, resources, and hope. I finally had a place where I could ask questions about our life with a disabled child, and if the answers scared us, there were ALWAYS words of support and encouragement. We were surrounded by a community that celebrated each bit of progress as success– despair transformed into HOPE, and everyone around could feel that shift.

As our HOPE snowballed, we learned to stop running toward a finish line and enjoy the little victories among the hurdles. Focusing only on making a final destination doesn’t create more speed or endurance; it only results in missing the awesome moments along the way–those moments that feed hope.

Aidan is now 17 and, due to his tenacity, our hopeful advocacy, his many incredible therapists, and the help of Family Hope Foundation, Aidan can do many things doctors said he’d never be able to accomplish. 

Aidan walks, talks (he talks a lot), feeds himself, and continues to grow in every direction and a thousand ways we never dared to imagine. The kid is funny! He criticizes our driving, makes nuanced jokes, and uses sarcasm in context. He doesn’t read independently, but his vocabulary is incredible and probably one of his most fun attributes. He has a special bike he can pedal and he loves his adaptive swimming lessons. He dresses himself, usually with all his clothes right-side out and not backward. He takes his meds without help, except for the occasional reminder. He helps take out the trash, or at least reminds us to do it. He loves to carry heavy things for us. In fact, he loves to be helpful in general.

All of these things give us joy and hope for the future–one we couldn’t have imagined a decade ago!”