As Dylan's first birthday approaches, I am finding that there are many emotions and memories that are coming along with it.
When I awake in the middle of the night, I can't help but remember...
I remember, so clearly, the way that I felt when I was first told, 5 hours after Dylan was born, that he was "showing possible signs of Down syndrome". I remember the disbelief. The fear.
I remember coming back home from the hospital, about 14 hours after we had left, on June 28th. Our first night without Dylan and feeling like I had been horribly betrayed. Thinking that the Dylan who was lying in the NICU was not my Dylan. Not the Dylan who I had planned for.
When Dylan's test results came back a few days after his birth, it was confirmed that he did indeed have Trisomy 21. I remember how two doctors came to find us in the NICU to tell us this. This as well as the fact that "adoption was certainly an option".
I remember sitting at my desk, in tears, writing this post back in September. I was still so scared. So uncomfortable and overwhelmed with the idea of Down syndrome.
I remember open heart surgery. I remember watching Dylan recover.
Then...as Days with Dylan continued on, I watched him grow well and thrive, all the while, without even realizing, I began feeling less and less afraid and more and more in love.
I read something on babycenter recently that rang so completely true for me. It went like this:
I heard someone describe the diagnosis of your child as having Down syndrome is like a loud band playing in your head - it's all you can think about. And, as time goes on, the music gets softer and softer until one day you realize that at some point the band had stopped playing and you don't think about Ds anymore.
I know that we are only at the beginning of this journey, but I can't help but be amazed with how far we've already come.
I just wish...
I wish I had known then, what I know now.