This afternoon as the clock flipped over to 1:53pm, I lay curled around you in bed watching you sleep. Your eyes fluttered, your mouth was open in a half smile, fine hair floating out in all directions. I breathed you in – you utterly content with a belly full of milk and me utterly content with my arms full of you. Perfect, marvelous, wonderful you.
It’s been a year since we first met. Blink. A year. Blink blink blink. Where did it go? Yes, the year but also my fear. The uncertainties. The overwhelm. Where did it all go? I’ve gone back and read On the Night You Were Born a number of times now and I can barely relate. I want to reach back in time and hug the woman who wrote it tight. To whisper in her ear that everything is going to be just fine. She wouldn’t have believed me but I would tell her fervently that a year from now, you will find it hard to conjure up the grief. The intense sadness will be replaced with a love so strong that you want to yell it from the mountain tops. Everything will be okay.
In the beginning, I thought about Izzy’s Down syndrome 24-7. There was not a moment that passed that it wasn’t on my mind. I had a permanent Down syndrome thought bubble above my head. When we were in public I had the strangest urge to blurt it out to anyone who even glanced her way. It felt like such a Big Deal that it was all I could think about. I went to bed and woke up thinking about it. I oscillated wildly between acceptance and despair. Down syndrome, Down syndrome, Down syndrome. All the time.
But as time marched on, the thought bubble started to dissipate. Perhaps I grew accustomed to the idea or more likely, it was because other than Izzy being diagnosed with Down syndrome, Down syndrome essentially played no role in our day to day lives. Izzy was growing into a happy, smiling, engaged baby. She was eating, pooping, rolling, grabbing, smiling and doing everything a baby is supposed to do. Then one day I realized that I hadn’t thought about Down Syndrome in a few hours. Then a few days. Then all of a sudden the scale tipped and the thought bubble popped. Now I have to remind myself. Oh yeah, she has Down syndrome. [Continued in comments 👇]
We started the dreaded four month sleep regression during Thanksgiving week. Both of our kids had been great sleepers before this started. Greyson didn’t have a sleep regression— he sleeps like his Dad. You know how Dads sleep 😴? Quinn has slept through the night since before turning two months so I guess this is payback for the lack of sleepless nights we had in the beginning 🤦🏾♀️. In Quinn’s defense, we moved her to her own room, stopped swaddling her and removed her from her Dock-a-tot all around the same time. She probably thinks she’s sleeping in outer space—poor girl. Seems like some nights are better than others, she even made it through a few nights last week but this week has been brutal. If anyone is wondering what I want for Christmas, it’s uninterrupted sleep, I wear a size 8 hours.
Rumor has it that there is something strangely satisfying about seeing children’s nose being cleared of all the mucus so quickly 🤔😜 Talk about motherhood🤣 By the way let’s take a moment and appreciate the way Colt says ‘GO’ @downrightwonderful
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