Here he is. Growing up with only brothers, I knew I would have a son someday. Eight pounds of new, fresh skin and bones, a tiny little nose and fingers that just curl around my pinky. He is here; the one I dreamt about while he grew inside.
Now he’s gone. They tell me he has a heart problem, he has a blood problem, he has an internal organ problem, he needs surgery right away, he needs tests, an incubator, tubes, needles, blankets, tape, so many needs are thrown at me, all at the same time, bombarding me with information, possibilities, likelihoods, predictions, diagnoses, assumptions. I lose my son. This is not who he was supposed to be. So who is this?
For weeks this goes on. Months and then years. Looking for the son I expected and now feel like I lost. Accepting the son I have. Loving him the whole time, doing the best I can for him given the bombardment of modern medicine. Down Syndrome they say, well into the first day.
But then some days I look around, I look back, I look forward always looking for the perspective. Somewhere along the line I found my gratitude, the gratitude I felt in those very first moments that I saw him and he saw me. There are worse things in this world; I have seen them. I have seen other Mothers deal with them. This is nothing. Simple. Easy. If nothing else, this child knows how to love and be loved. And it is contagious.
Down Syndrome Everywhere! 