Celebrating Abe’s 12th Birthday: A Year of Reflection and Gratitude

How is this the last year before Abe becomes a teenager? It feels like just yesterday I was holding him in my arms for the first time. Twelve years on this planet, and not a single day goes by where he doesn’t take us on an emotional rollercoaster.
Abe came into this world a fighter, and that hasn’t changed. He’s already accomplished so much. From helping change laws to paving the way for more research on UBE2A with the help of Mayo Clinic and the University of Minnesota’s PhD students, Abe is not just living—he’s making a difference.
He is love. He is kindness. He’s sweet, and he’s sour. He’ll give you the sweetest hugs and then brutalize you if you sneeze wrong (seriously, I’m not allowed to cough, sneeze, or laugh around him). But farts? They’re always cool, no matter who’s letting them rip.
Abe’s charisma is contagious. He makes friends wherever he goes, and the sour faces and stares are often doubled down with smiles and waves. He is so deeply loved by everyone who knows him.
Abe has taught me to slow down and appreciate the little things—like shredding receipts and junk mail and tossing them in the air like confetti or going outside to scream at echoes. He has given me a new perspective on life, and I can’t even begin to explain how much he’s changed me.
He saved my life. He changed my life. He IS my life. I waited 35 years to meet him, and though the days can sometimes be long and tears fall a little too easily, he humbles me every single day. I am so incredibly proud of him.
Life with a rare disease isn’t easy. Abe still faces countless obstacles, and I have no doubt he’ll overcome every single one of them. He’s the bravest, hardest-working, and most badass little dude I know, and I’m beyond lucky to be his mama.
Happy 12th birthday, Abe! You are more than I ever could have imagined, and I am so proud of you. Keep being you—the world needs more of your magic.