Please note: the content provided may be triggering for some readers. Please take care in reading ahead.
Strange words erupted inside me.
"Actually, we're going to be better off."
It was March 2018—a Sunday afternoon. We had been home just two days from the hospital.
A month had passed since our Andrew had entered the world.
Diagnosed with Down syndrome on day seven, and flown to Brisbane for life-saving surgery on day two, Andrew's new life pointed our journey in an entirely different direction.
Spending time with friends over lunch on that Sunday, one friend posed a pointed question. Reflecting on our new life and responsibilities, she asked, "What are you going to do about Tielka?"
It was a valid question.
My heart heard something different. Words she never spoke. It was a little ugly.
"Hey girl, you remember all those plans you had? All the hard work you've done, your tears, hopes, your life investment, your identity, everything you ever dreamed of? Well, you may as well throw all that in the trash, because now your life is going to be back-to-back therapy, appointments, and disability. And you are not capable enough to manage all that, plus your business, plus your family, and everything else, without burning out and making a mess of it all."
It hurt like hell.
That explosion of pain triggered a shift.
A hard refusal in my spirit.
No.
There was another, far riskier way.
Built on possibility and hope.
"Not only are we going to be ok, not only is the Tielka going to survive, but my family, my health, my heart, my marriage, our future, our hopes, dreams, all of it...
Actually, we're going to be better off".
The new words seared my mind and soul.
It shaped everything that followed.
Every new turn that would follow, something good had to exist. Another appointment? Trip to Brisbane? A chance to travel with the family. Eat gelato. Climb the Brisbane letters. Another diagnosis? I got to learn new skills, increase my understanding, meet new people. Increased responsibilities? My time management skills skyrocketed. I was forced to delegate. Automate. Focus on what matters. Take a full day of rest every week. I discovered how much I loved 5:30 am starts. No one interrupts you at that time of day.
I'll never be more grateful for that pain.
It shifted me.
Was it all sunshine and rainbows? Did I get it right every time?
No.
Some moments, days, seasons, felt like the challenges and pain would not give up.
For those times, I had my morning routine, my cup of tea, music, faith, and wide-eyed imagination to keep me going. Reassess. Try again.
It still keeps me going.
Today, Saturday 14th February 2026, Andrew turns 8 years old. He is a delightful little boy, beautifully natured, with simple desires and highly complex needs. Happiness for him is spinning a disc, playing with sand, or splashing in the water. He's happiest when people are nearby. He walks, is yet to speak, and has assistance with almost all aspects of his life. And if there was ever a button I could press that would remove everything that makes it harder for him to do life, I would search the earth, find that button, and press it a thousand times over. Until then, I'm determined to do the best I can with what we have.
Whatever it is you are going through right now, your future is not set in stone.
There is not just one way forward. That scary conclusion in your head? It doesn't have to be like that.
There is a way that is riskier, filled with possibility and hope. You may already know it.
It might even start with these words...
"Actually, we're going to be better off."
With love,
Rebecca Domorev
CEO and Founder of Tielka