thoughts

Thanks y'all for all of the sweet comments on yesterday's post. Cate said that she wished she had a time machine to go back and hug us and let us know how things were going to turn out. All of us, all the new mamas.

I wish I could do that for the new mamas that are finding out right now. The ones getting shocked at birth. The ones getting unexpected test results. I wish I could tell them that it's going to be fine. Your child will rock. Your family will stretch and grow. Your world will get bigger and better in ways you never imagined. It won't be easy, but it will be good.

But, I think that it's a road you just have to travel for yourself. You have to be the one thinking: "Well, I'll just have the superstar kid with Down syndrome." "We'll get all the therapies! She'll be fine!"

And then realizing that your child rocks because they just do. Not because of when they hit milestones, or when they speak, or when they potty train. Not because of how closely they mirror their "typical" counterparts. Just because they ARE.

I think part of my guilt around Kira's birth centers on the fact that I totally discounted a huge chunk of society. And I didn't even know I was doing it. I just didn't see kids with different abilities, I mean really see them. Sure I thought, "I don't think I could handle that" and "those are some really awesome parents" when I saw kids who obviously had challenges. But I didn't see the value in the kids, themselves.

Now, when I tell a mom of a newborn baby with Ds, "Congratulations!" I mean it. Because that's a new life right there. Full of possibilities. Full of promise. A whole new journey.

And for the mama? It's not a detour. It's not a roadblock. It's a wider path. And when you're ready, and you look around, it's full of amazing people walking it with you.

And it rocks. Thank y'all.