It won’t grow

One of the things I had the hardest time with when my husband and I decided to move back to Indiana, after living in Memphis, Tenn., for about five years, was leaving our two giant magnolia trees that were in the front yard of our first home.

I had a deep attachment to those giant, beautiful, and fragrant trees. They were stunning! They brought me so much peace when I sat on the front porch of our home.

A couple of years after we moved back, my husband and I were thrilled when we came upon a tiny magnolia tree as we were plant shopping. It was the only one in sight. Without hesitation, we added it to our cart.

Everyone told us, “That tree won’t grow here. It is not the right climate for it to thrive.”

We planted “Memphis Maggie” and hoped for the best. Each year we said, “It is getting a little bigger and stronger!” It was hard to see, but there was a tiny bit of growth each year. Then people said, “It will never bloom.”

It took several years before our beautiful tree began to grow substantially. It was adjusting to the environment. It had a few rough patches when we thought everyone was right, it would not make it.

I even remember a particularly bad storm when we watched that tree nearly bend to the ground. Surely it will break, we thought. The tree survived the storm.

Despite our doubts, we never gave up hope on that tree. When we added onto our home several years later, the contractor said we would have to remove the tree. We told him not a chance, and we designed around it.

As I sit here today, I marvel at Memphis Maggie’s size and gorgeous, heavenly smelling blooms. She made it despite all the doubts, I think. Not only did she make it, but she is absolutely thriving. Each year, I have my husband or sons cut a few of the blooms, so I can examine them up close and smell their intoxicating smell.

When my parents first started my diagnostic search, they heard similar statements. Things like, she may not survive or she will not be able to walk long. Preparing them for the worst. They knew better, even though there was not any good explanation.

Just as we did with our tree, they planted me anyway and were optimistic for my growth. They expected me to thrive despite the negative things they heard. It was a guessing game at that point, and they knew it.

There were setbacks and years I did not “bloom” as beautifully as others, but we kept pushing forward, and my roots began to spread. They kept believing that “growth” was possible.

My muscles did not become stronger, but my spirit did.

My doctors spent a lot of time talking about all the things I could not or would not ever do. And yes, there are many of those things, such as running, that I could never do in a “typical” way.

My family and friends helped and encouraged me to focus on what I could do. I found and created new ways to do things others told me I would never do. Just as I still do today.

I am thriving outside of my expected “climate.”

My life would look vastly different if my parents had not placed so much hope in me. My growth would not be the same, and I do not think I would have the same fighting spirit. All because they chose to fight for me from the beginning.

The trajectory of my life depended on decisions that were incredibly difficult for them to make. We lived with so much uncertainty because it took so long to diagnose me. We were truly pioneers of my long medical road.

With no one to depend on for a road map, we made our own.

I adjusted and bloomed right where I was, even if it was not the perfect climate. Just like our beautiful tree.

Until next time …

Amy Shinneman is a former National Ambassador for the Muscular Dystrophy Association, disability blogger, freelance writer, wife, and mom of two boys. She is the recipient of the Reporter’s Winter 2025 Ink-Stained Wretch award. You can find her blog at humblycourageous.org and reach her on Instagram @ashinneman.