Many people today want to have everything under control: their studies, their career, their bank account... even the exact moment to have children. They postpone motherhood and fatherhood until "everything is in order," and when that moment finally arrives, they have one (or none), or they decide to pour their affection into a nephew, a dog, or a cat. Everything must be planned, safe, and efficient. Risk-free.

But life doesn't always work that way.

I was born in Cuba, a communist country with little future or opportunities. I married young, at 24, and my wife was 20. She was still in college, and I had just graduated. At 29, our first child was born, amid a difficult context, marked by discouragement, scarcity, and uncertainty. It was that same child (that new life that didn't wait for the "ideal moment") that led us to rethink everything. We decided to leave the country, look for a way out, create new opportunities.

We arrived in Brazil, and soon after, my wife became pregnant again. When our second child was born, we discovered he had Down syndrome. Once again, life shook us up and put us in front of the mirror again: our plans, our ideas for the future, our notion of "normality"—everything changed. Today, we invest time, effort, and resources into ensuring our son has the best life possible. Doctors, therapists, specialists... And also a lot of love and hope.

What's my point with all this?

Life can't be completely predicted or controlled. It's not a laboratory. We can't always select the best genes or avoid everything that makes us uncomfortable. Sometimes children arrive unexpectedly, even imperfectly by certain standards... but with them comes a profound transformation.

Trying to design perfect children may seem safe, but it's also a way of denying what makes us truly human: our vulnerability, our openness to change, and the capacity to love beyond expectations.

Maybe instead of wanting to be gods, we should learn to live with uncertainty… and let life surprise us.