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It seemed as though the days flew by but that they also were endless. No sleep, changing diapers, pumping, feeding, doctors appointments, visitors. But she was slowly getting out of the fog. She could see the light a little bit. She was starting to get somewhat of a hold on this whole motherhood thing.
Why didn’t anyone tell Her motherhood would be this hard? She discovered this was truly one of the world’s best kept secrets. Rightly so, probably. That and the fact that marriage was really hard. Way to be hit with a real-life double whammy.
They visited the geneticist who was more interested in what She had to say about Baby Girl than providing any helpful information or answers. Baby Girl was an anomaly, a rarity and geneticists apparently thrive on that. They took pictures and tossed out words like “microcephaly” and “hypotonia” and others that She didn’t understand or even want to learn. She just wanted to go home.
She just wanted someone to look at her Baby Girl and see what She saw: perfection and beauty and love.
Mom had a friend who had a son with Down Syndrome who was a Godsend. She told Her who to call, what to do, and even recommend a new pediatrician. She was so thankful that someone knew something and could give Her advice.
The new pediatrician was amazing. She was kind and caring and hopeful. She not only asked how Baby Girl was doing but asked about Her as well. Was She sleeping? Eating? Getting help from family? Rest? How’s your marriage holding up? It caught Her off guard actually; someone was asking Her how She was doing? That was wonderful. The doctor was very matter-of-fact and said that she didn’t know much about this syndrome but she would learn; the doctor said that She would probably end up teaching her throughout their journey. It was nice to hear someone say that they didn’t know either; it was wonderful to hear someone say they would help. No doom and gloom in that office.
On Her 25th birthday, Baby Girl had her appointment to be evaluated for Early Intervention. She watched from behind the glass as they put Baby Girl through all sorts of tests for muscle strength and cognitive ability. They met with Her and Him and discussed the results. It was what they were expecting. They set Her up with an Early Intervention specialist appointment. A woman would be coming to their house to work with Baby Girl every other week. Really? Someone’s going to come to Her house and help and provide advice and things to help Baby Girl? Awesome. They provided them with a therapist who would help Baby Girl learn to use her muscles. Great.
She felt so good after that appointment. They had a plan. They had help. They had a mission. At that moment, She knew that it would all be ok. Baby Girl had a plan, had help, had a mission. She decided right then and there that there would be no limits on what Baby Girl could do. No one, no one, no one was going to tell Her that Baby Girl wouldn’t do things; from now on it was going to be high expectations and providing Baby Girl opportunities to grow and learn and be the best little girl she could be.
They had a plan. They had help. They had a mission.
They could do this.