It's a boy, but....

I have learned so many new terms and concepts since all of this began. For instance, a year ago if you had asked me about FISH results, I'd have assumed it was something  related to a tournament down at the local lake.  In reality, FISH results (FISH is an acronym for something real fancy) are the preliminary results you receive after an amniocentesis or chorionic villus sampling (what we had). They look for just a few chromosomal abnormalities, namely Down syndrome, and some of the other trisomies. The full results come a little later. It felt like we waited an eternity. It was over the 4th of July holiday, which made the wait even longer. My test was done on a Friday and we received 'the call' on the following Wednesday. That time of uncertainty...it was agony. I kept telling myself that 1 in 8 wasn't really that bad, that it was a 7 in 8 chance that my baby didn't have any issues. I’m not sure that’s how statistics actually work, but it made me feel like I was being positive. I reminded myself of these things often and tried, very unsuccessfully, not to think about it all. You know those things in your life where you'll always remember where you were and how you felt when they happened? Well, this pregnancy was chock full of those and this day was one of them for sure. I was sitting on our couch talking to B when my phone rang. I saw the area code and my heart sped up. With a shaky hand and probably a shaky voice, I answered. It was Natasha, the genetic counselor that we had previously met on the day my test was done. She had news. Oddly, I don't recall her exact words but of course I do remember that she said the preliminary results had shown that the baby did have trisomy 21/Down syndrome. Through some miracle I remained calm and agreed as she scheduled us for an appointment with a geneticist the next week. Before we hung up, voice shaking, I asked,

"Is it true that this test is able to tell the gender?"
Natasha: "It does, would you like to know?"
Me: "Yes please."
Natasha: "It is a boy."

At the time this felt so ironic...when B and I had discussed (who am I kidding, when we had dreamed, hoped, planned, imagined, etc.!) our baby...we had always hoped for a little boy. I pictured him looking a lot like B's baby pictures with chubby cheeks and white blonde hair but maybe with my blue eyes. I thought of how his eyes would crinkle up like B's when he smiled. How he would be a momma's boy and I'd teach him to love to read like I do. So how ironic that we were getting what we'd always wanted, a little boy, but unlike the little boy of my hopes and dreams, he had Down syndrome. I hung up the phone and looked at B's expectant face. My voice cracking and sounding high pitched and unnatural even to my own ears I said, "Well, it's a boy..." with my voice failing me and trailing off. Somehow I found it again and finished, "...and he has Down syndrome." And with that, once again for the second time in as many weeks we were in our living room sobbing. The sorrow that enveloped us was deep and consuming. We cried and we agonized and we talked about how unfair it was. How unfair that we had waited so long for this baby, that we had undergone treatments, that we tried to work hard and do things right, and this had happened to us. I hope you can find it in yourself not to judge us. I wish I could explain it better. Of course looking back now, it seems borderline silly...at the time it was incredibly real though. We were acting like someone had died...and in a way, they had. The dream, the idea of the baby we thought we were having had died and we weren't sure about this baby we had just found out about. That grief...it is very real. Of course hindsight is 20/20 and I realize now that it was Cooper all along. The only thing that died was our idea of him. At the time I couldn't see that though. For days I cried at the drop of a hat. When I went to work I tried to put on a brave face but I thought about it constantly. The only way I can describe it is darkness...it engulfed me and it was sucking the life out of me. I felt physical pain. I felt disconnected with my baby, like there was a stranger in my womb. I forgot to take my prenatal vitamins when prior to the diagnosis I had never missed one. I wondered if this was a punishment of sorts, although for what I didn’t know. Crazy, irrational thoughts flitted through my mind. It never stopped. This lasted for nearly a week and then one day...an epiphany! I had to go into 'Me' mode and start reading. That's what I do, what I've always done. When things go awry I try to learn as much as I can about anything and everything. It's like a survival mechanism. And so, I sat down on the couch with my laptop and I started digging. One of the first things I found was Kelle Hampton's blog which was filled with beautiful, ethereal pictures of her daughters (one of whom has Down syndrome). I found the 'Down syndrome' and 'Down syndrome pregnancy' boards on Babycenter.com and they were filled with stories and discussion from moms of kids with Ds as well as many adorable pictures. Seeing all of those gorgeous kids did something. It began to chip away at the darkness that had surrounded me. The smiling faces were like a salve on my wounded spirit. Prior to this, my notions about Ds were few and it certainly wasn't a club I wanted to be apart of. These brave mommas with their beautiful kids were doing all they could to change those types of opinions. It was the beginning of a turning point.

As I said previously, there are many things I will never forget. Another is the reaction of my closest friend. Her knowledge of Ds was pretty limited as well, but she accepted Cooper from day one. When I explained to her that Cooper would probably do some things later such as hold up his head, sit up, and walk, she said, "That's okay, so our baby will be a baby longer?" On our first outing after the diagnosis, she was the same enthusiastic person she had been before. No pity, no 'sorry'...in fact, she was the opposite entirely. She said, "We have to go shopping! I'm dying to buy some cute clothes for this baby!" That was one more step toward me being okay with everything. As we 'oohed and ahhhed' over adorable baby boy clothes I began to get excited about my pregnancy again.

The first outfits bought for Cooper courtesy of my BFF

 Indeed she does!

I'm pretty sure she had no idea that her 'non-reaction' to our news was exactly what I needed. I am and always will be forever grateful for that. So, the fog lifted and I started buying things; we window shopped for furniture for his room, and we picked out a middle name for our Cooper. We resolved to be positive from there on out. We shared the news with more friends and family saying, "We have news about the baby. First of all, it's a boy and his name is Cooper! He has Down syndrome, but we are fine and we are very excited to meet him." I've found in life that how people react to things you tell them is often colored by your tone and outlook on the subject. With this in mind, we set out to show people that it really was okay, we weren't sad anymore. And just like a storm that rolled in, tossed us about and roughed us up and then moved out of town...the darkness was gone and the sunshine that followed was beautiful. I basked in it. About 3 weeks later I felt the first flutters of movement in my tummy and I didn't look back. That's not to say that we weren't still scared. There were the prospects of heart problems, bowel problems, and a myriad of other health concerns associated with Ds but the fact that I was focused on: We were having a baby!!

This is what we were so afraid of?!?