At age seventeen I gave birth to our son on October 28th, 1998. After more than 24 hours, his heart rate was dropping and I was rushed off for an emergency Cesarian.There was no time for anything, except the medication the injected in my spine. So I threw up during it all as my blood pressure dropped. It seemed like forever but in no time I heard them say "we got a little peanut". He didn't cry or make a sound. They quickly took him to the table and minutes later stuck his face up to mine and he stared at me with the most beautiful blue eyes. Then they reached to my husband and were gone. I could feel and see in their faces that something was wrong.

   I was assured that he was OK and that they were letting me rest due to the complications I had delivering. A few days past and a doctor came into my room explaining the characteristics of Down Syndrome. I first thought he had the wrong room and he soon realized I did not know. I had no idea what Down Syndrome was until that day. The first thought to enter my mind was is he going to make it? Followed by fear, heartbreak, and worry. I didn't know what the disability meant and didn't care. I just wanted to know he was OK. I carried him nearly nine months and already loved him dearly. To this day I can see so clearly the first time our eyes met. How could a child so small and perfect being having trouble?

   My family hadn't told me yet because they didn't know if I could handle it on top of everything else. But I was OK. I was expecting something considering I had not seen my child yet. They explained that he was having trouble keeping his body temperature up and that he had two holes in his heart.  He was also having trouble being able to use a bottle and tolerate formula. Tears flowed as I lay there thinking about the little 4lb 10 1/2oz baby I had having to go through all this. They tried bringing him in my room to breast feed, but he couldn't latch on or keep his temperature up long. So again I went without seeing him, but pumped all the milk I could and they put it in a syringe and finger fed him with a tube. Soon I got to be wheeled to the nursery. Tears flowed again as I saw him under the heat lamp, with IV's and oxygen. While everyone else was used to things I panicked when he seemed like he was choking and not thinking jumped up to be by his side. Unaware I had filled the floor with a puddle of blood. So back to my room they sent me. He was doing better, since getting breast milk, and a little more each day he got to be in the room with me. And I got better so I could walk to the nursery.  I didn't get to feed him his first bottle or change his first diaper, but they way he looked at me is a joy like no other. All that other stuff didn't matter. He knew I loved him and he loved me.

    They discharged me, but he had to stay. I did NOT want to leave him. I did not understand why doctors and nurses were amazed that we were keeping our baby. I was appalled at that comment that most parents don't, especially at out age. That we were doing such a good job. Why would we not? Why would the fact that our baby had a disability change anything?  I did not know what the future held  for him or us. I didn't know how easy or hard raising him would be. It didn't matter. To me he was perfect. He didn't look like anything the doctor had explained to me. He just looked like my baby. Blue eyes and face so much like his dad's. This is where I will begin to tell you in my blogs what it was like then and now raising our Down Syndrome son.