Let me preface this post: I have no issues whatsoever with Cade's Down syndrome now. I embrace him for who he is and I love every single chromosome. But once upon a time...
When I found out Cade would have Down syndrome, I was alternately relieved and absolutely crushed. Relieved because I knew he would survive. I had worried that he might have T13 or T18, both generally fatal at birth, so T21 was a huge relief. But I was also crushed because very few people actually hope their baby will be born with a disability. I grieved for us and for him. Life would be harder, and I didn't know if we were ready for that.
Before I bury the headline, here's the crux of my blog post...yesterday was our two-year anniversary of receiving the diagnosis.
I didn't think of it once all day.
Not even once. It completely slipped my mind until this morning. And today, I realized that time and experience are healing. Two years ago today I was crushed, obliterated, wiped out. I spent a lot of the day crying. And I didn't spend much of the night sleeping. It seems silly now, in hindsight, but that was a dark time for me. Sometimes during the darkest part of the night, I wondered if miscarriage would be easier.
After a few days, my heart and mind calmed down and I composed a long letter to my family. It started like this:
It really didn't take too long and I was in a much better frame of mind. But the heartsick feelings of that day have stuck around some. Last year at this time I was too overwhelmed with leftover emotion to write any blog posts. In fact, it set off 6 months of writer's block!
And this year, I forgot all about it! What a refreshing feeling.
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