Julian was conceived in mid October 2009, just before my 32nd birthday. Tom and I had just gotten married in June ’09 and decided to start trying that September. I dutifully did all of my homework and researched all of the tricks on how to get pregnant. I even made a step by step baby making cheat sheet for a friend trying to conceive (scroll down to the bottom of this post for the list).
Tom and I really, REALLY, wanted a baby. We said in our wedding vows how much we couldn’t wait to start a family.
Photo courtesy of Sarah Bastille PhotographySo when we got the news on October 21 that I was expecting, we were ecstatic!
Around week 6 I started to feel sick.Why do they call it morning sickness? I feel sick all day! As I eagerly awaited our 12 week appointment, I prayed to the porcelain goddess and was very tired.
Despite being sick, my pregnancy was smooth sailing. I felt great. I did yoga twice a week all the way up to two weeks before I delivered. I didn’t gain too much weight (in fact, I was worried I wasn’t gaining enough weight). Friends said I glowed.
While we waited, I dreamt of what our baby would look like….would s/he be big or small? I was hoping for a small baby) Would s/he have mom’s musical talent? Be a rock climber like daddy? Play soccer like mommy? Be a lefty like Tom’s three siblings? I hoped our baby would have brown slightly wavy hair (genes from my husband’s side) with big, hazel or brown or maybe even recessive gene blue!
December 14 came, our 12 week appointment. I sat on the examining table, listening to the click click click of the ultrasound machine, holding Tom’s hand. Then I heard it – the sound of our baby’s heart beat while growing inside me- breathtaking. Tom and I looked at each other with content anticipation.
That’s our baby!
We beamed as we walked out of the appointment, proudly gripping a photo of our baby waving “hi!” It went right onto the fridge.
After coming back from the doctor, we immediately began telling extended friends and family about our news. The congrats kept coming in and we were just gushing.
About a week after our 12 week check up, we received a phone call. It was the results from a blood test (this is often referred to as the triple screen) “Yada, yada, yada…medical garbledygook…your baby has a 1 in 75 chance of having Down syndrome.”
Nothingness. I felt numb.
I heard the doctor utter words like Nuchal Translucency, Pap A and HCG. It was so much to take in. Why us? So many questions. What does this mean? Here are the notes I took on the phone with the doctor trying to digest it all:
Trisomy 21 risk 1 in 75 (also referred to as Down syndrome)
Trisomy 18 risk 1 in 330 (also referred to as Edward’s syndrome)
Nuchal Translucency – right on target -1.08 MOM
HCG was high and pap A was a little on the low side
pap A – MOM 0.21 (1 is the median)
HCG - 1.2 MOM (1 is the median)
The doctor went on, “At 13 weeks we can do chorionic sampling – so you can make the decision very quickly…this carries a 1% chance of miscarriage – and the test can be done either vaginally or abnominally. A biopsy of the placenta is taken. You might experience some cramping. Or at 15-16 weeks we can do an amniocentisis..chances are 1 in 300 of miscarriage. This has a very low false positive rate of 1 in 1000 to 1 in 10000. The needle is smaller and is only done abdominally.”
What? I didn’t want to do all of these invasive tests! Sticking a needle inside my uterus where my baby is growing? I don’t want to do anything to risk the life of my child. I just heard the heart beat and s/he waved to us just a week ago! S/he is fine.
No. No. No. This is not happening…I am sure everything will work out…the chances are so slim. Tom and I talked about it and cried a little more, then decided to not think about it again after Christmas. I decided I’d call the doctor in early January.
The holidays came and went. We had our annual Corcoran family get together on Tom’s side with about 30 people. Laughter. Lots of food. More congrats on the baby.
Here is a photo my mom snapped the day after Christmas. At the time I was really proud of what I thought was my growing belly:
The festivities of the new year came and went, and soon things quieted down. Amidst the thank you notes and after holiday errands, I remembered that I needed to call the doctor.
“Hello?” I’d like to schedule an amnio.”
January 22nd 2010 at 11 am. Check. I would be 18 weeks pregnant.
We walked into the doctor’s office excited about seeing our baby again on the black and white fuzzy screen. Since that phone call in December, Tom and I hadn’t talked about the potential for our baby having Down syndrome. I think we were both just banking on the chances being greater that we wouldn’t have a baby with Down syndrome. 74 out of 75. And we had completely forgotten about the risk of Trisomy 18, Edwards syndome – a 1 in 300 risk.
The room was dimly lit and there was music playing. I still had on my jeans that I wore before I got pregnant. I remember the nurse saying “it’s about time to buy some new pants!” She was right.
The level ii ultrasound started. I wasn’t nervous – I was too busy examining my beautiful baby on the screen, trying to determine the sex.
“Do you want to know?” asked the ultrasound tech.
“We’ll try to guess.”
Tom and I carfefully examined the glowing screen.
“Oh…there it is…It’s a BOY!!”
Visions of Tom and my baby boy playing baseball, kicking the soccer ball, roughhousing and just being boys together rushed through my head. Tom beamed. Happiness.
Aw look…he’s sucking his thumb!
The level ii ultrasound lasted about 20-30 minutes. The tech examined his heart, measured his neck, looked as his feet. I knew she was looking for soft markers of Down syndrome (thickening of the skin in the back of the neck, called the nuchal fold), holes in the heart, enlarged space between the big toe and the other toes (sandal gap). But my mind was too focused on looking at my baby moving around. MY BABY. I could see his little hands and feet moving around, I could see his lips. I could almost look into his eyes. Can he see me too? I see you, baby.
The ultrasound tech left to consult with the doctor. The doctor came back in with the results.
“We don’t see anything…your baby has a healthy heart and everything else looks great.”
Relief!!
“Do you still want to move forward with the amnio?”
So many thoughts ran through my mind. I was so happy that this meant we didn’t need to do the test and risk any harm to our baby. But what would Tom think?
I asked the doctor, “Considering this new information, what do you think the chances are now of us having a baby with Down syndrome?”
“1 in 250/300″
Those are the exact same chances of risking miscarriage by doing the test! (1 in 300).
We asked for some private time alone to talk. I said I didn’t feel comfortable moving forward with the test. Tom hesitated and had a bit of a concerned look on his face for a moment, but then he agreed that we wouldn’t move forward with the amnio. After we walked out that door, we didn’t think about Down syndrome for another second during the rest of my pregnancy.
Here I am a week before the appointment on Jan. 13 (month 4):
Month 5:
We took a “babymoon” to Mexico during month 6:
Month 7:
Starting month 8:
8.5 months:
Starting month 9 (a week before I delivered)
On June 4, 2010, I went into labor. I was 36 weeks pregnant. I didn’t even call my family because I wasn’t sure if this was “it”. I didn’t want to alarm anyone. Plus, the very next day was to be my baby shower. My elation and excitement about my baby shower quickly turned to fear….No!!! This baby is not supposed to come this early…
I am so scared, I am so scared. Will my baby be OK? This can not be happening.
My early labor started on June 4 in the mid-morning, I didn’t start really feeling the contractions until about 5 pm. I labored at home for a bit, tried to relax in the bath, but by 8 pm we were at the hospital. Based on the fact that I was just 36 weeks, they tried to stop my contractions with a shot of terbutaline.
It worked, so they sent me home around 11 pm. When we got home I tried to rest, but I couldn’t sleep, and the contractions kept getting stronger. I could hear the pounding of the rain outside on the windows.
“I think we need to call the midwife again”
Right then, the sky opened and huge claps of thunder and lightening echoed and flashed in the sky, signaling that it was time to go. Looking back, I think Julian was saying something to us. Back to the hospital we went.
It hurts so badly. I can not breathe. Why does it hurt so badly?? My back!
I didn’t know I was having a back labor until I was 4 cm dilated at 3 am in the morning and screaming for an epidural. At least my back labor explained why it hurt so badly. A back labor happens when the baby is facing up during labor, with the back of his head pressing on the bony part of your spine, pressing harder into your back with each contraction. I heard the midwife use the term “Occipital posterior” to describe the position of our baby.
My anxiety about the entire birthing experience and my fears of blood didn’t help anything at all throughout the entire labor. And I knew I was going to be a puker – but nothing can prepare you for those wretched heaves.
Thankfully, I have a rock as a husband and he helped me stay as calm as I could. But looking back on my early labor experience, my anxiety was through the roof and it was so very hard to relax through those contractions.
Time passed. With the epidural in, it was peaceful, almost boring. I wasn’t in pain. My legs were numb and I couldn’t move them. It felt weird. I had wanted to try a natural water birth, but as soon as I went into labor early, that was ruled out. I am not sure I would have been able to make it through the pain of back labor, anyway.
10 cm dilated. Time to push. I felt some pain during the birthing because my epidural had worn off a bit. This also allowed me to get into a hands and knees position, which felt more natural to me. I closed my eyes the entire time pushing.
It was 7 pm on Saturday June 5th. My dad’s birthday. The day that was supposed to be my baby shower. Time to push!
Just as the beautiful son set outside our window, at 8:03 p.m. on Saturday, June 5th, Julian Thomas Sherman was born. He was 6.38 pounds and 21 inches.
My instananeous joy from hearing Julian Thomas’ strong, healthy cries turned to the heaviest feeling I have ever felt in my heart. The nurse handed Julian to me, his umbilical cord still attached and he was slightly bluish.
The first second that I held him I knew. I looked into his eyes for the first time and I just knew. My baby has Down syndrome. I felt a gut wrenching pain and shock as I held him in all his glory as he came straight out of my womb. This is not my baby. This baby can not be mine.
I am not quite sure what happened after that. I think someone must have recognized the state of shock I was in and took him away. I immediately looked into Tom’s eyes and the first words out of my mouth after Julian’s birth were, “Baby, I think our baby has special needs.” I looked into Tom’s eyes and he didn’t know what I knew. I wanted him to say it was not true, I wanted him to make it all go away. I wanted to be happy. But I wasn’t.
I started crying intensely.
The room was a blur and a lot of hustle and bustle in the room. After one hour and 15 minutes of pushing I had to turn over onto my back again in order to deliver the placenta. I was numb. All I remember were bright lights and the blood and the soft placenta coming out and more blood.
Where I had previously kept my eyes closed throughout the entire birth to protect myself from looking at and seeing the blood, I sat there numb, with my legs wide open – looking down, and ready to let the placenta fall out of me and listening to my midwife say push. Thug. Out came the placenta. The placenta that had been the source of life to my baby – but when I looked at it I felt dead.
I looked around the room, and at the table that was previously empty where I had imagined the baby that we had planned for but that now held my baby that I hadn’t expected – a baby with Down syndrome. The doctors were looking at him and inspecting him. While this was happening I was looking at everyone’s faces and saw their looks of concern. I searched their faces desperately – I wanted someone to tell me that everything was OK, but I could tell that it was not.
I leaned over and told my doula that I was really concerned that my baby had Down syndrome. That is all I could say. Then the rest is a blur. My body and mind went into shock the instant I held Julian so I can’t really remember the rest of what happened in the birthing room.
I do remember smiling for the camera:
The next thing I remember it was time to move rooms to the maternity ward. I didn’t know where my baby was. I felt nothingness. In this moment I was supposed to be cuddling and holding the baby I had expected, but Julian was being cared for in the nursery. I was holding my husband and he and I were sobbing uncontrollably and grieving for the baby we did not have in our arms.
Every time I looked at Julian in the hospital all I could think of was that he had Down syndrome. I could not bond with him but I knew I wanted what was best for Julian so I tried to breastfeed. I cried and looked up a lot of the time that Julian was in my arms because I could not look into his eyes. A lot of times other people had to help me hold him because that was too intense for me to cuddle with him and hold him. I wanted this moment to be joyous and happy but tears of pain were streaming down my face.
My detachment from Julian went so far as to tell the nurses to please remove the name Julian Thomas Mather from his nursery cart because I could not bear the sight of it. This was not even his correct name – his full name is Julian Thomas Sherman (my husband’s last name). To me, that was a name that I had picked out for my OTHER baby. Not this one.
My husband and I were both in such a state of shock that we didn’t correct them.
I was grieving too much and wanted to “put away” everything associated with this baby. I hid the baby clothes I had so hurredly thrown into a bag when I went into labor the day before. I could not bear to put the baby clothes on him because this was not the baby I planned for. The sounds and sights of other people’s typical babies just made me realize that I do not have a typical baby. Late at night I could hear those cries and the muffled sounds of other people in the rooms with their babies but Julian was not in the room with us – he was still in the nursery. My husband and I were both in such a state of grieving that we couldn’t have him in the room with us and take care of him on our own.
The days passed at the hospital. Social workers and nurses came in and out – there was a constant flow of caretakers and people checking in. The eye doctor came to examine Julian. A myriad of other tests. And on day 2 of Julian’s life we needed to take him to another hospital to get an echo cardiogram to check his heart. He had a heart defect – a transitional AVSD. Why didn’t they find this heart defect during the level ii ultrasound?
Tom and I were not doing well. We discussed adoption. The social worker pressed us for a decision. I was going downhill, fast. My body was going through a hormonal crash and an emotional rollercoaster. I was in the maternity ward, but could not bond with my newly born baby. I did not sleep for 5 days.
Soon it was time for us to go home. What? Already? I started to realize what I had done – I had rejected my baby as soon as he was born. It sunk in. The day of our discharge, I asked Tom if he would hold my hand as I walked into the nursery to visit Julian. I was really nervous. Slowly, slowly, we walked – one foot after the other, through the nursery. We asked for a private room to visit with Julian – we knew it was going to be emotional. I sat there in the private room – crying and crying, apologizing to Julian for neglecting him in the first few days of his life. As I leaned over his bassinet and took him out, my breasts leaked right through my shirt as I finally started to attach to my baby. My body was meant to feed him, nourish him. My body knew what it needed to do – but my heart had been far behind. Before we left, I breastfeed Julian for the first time for an extended period of time successfully.
Julian still needed to stay in the hospital for jaundice so we came back to an empty house. No baby. I asked my parents to close the nursery room door because it was too hard for me to look at the stuff we had prepared for the typically developing baby we had expected. Throughout my pregnancy, I had imagined the day we would proudly bring home our new baby. This was not that homecoming.
So many thoughts were racing through my mind that night. I couldn’t sleep, I had the shakes from the hormone imbalances. Every few hours, I had to pump my engorged breasts, a reminder that our baby was not with us. Tom and I f umbled with the breast pump in the dark. We barely spoke to each other. We had so much to think about, more appointments to make for Julian, calls to make to our insurance company, the list went on and on.
Finally my racing mind came to a rest, as early in the wee hours of the morning, I fell asleep.
Early the next morning, I woke up on my couch and my breasts were leaking. Where is my baby? My cats were on top of me and kneading my chest and purring. My breast milk was coming out of me in reaction to the kneading motion. This put me over the edge. I did not have a baby to feed, and my cats were acting like my babies. On top of that I was feeling detached from Julian. I wanted him more than ever, but I was unsure of how I felt toward him. Did I love him?
All of this was too much, and at that moment, I had a psychotic break from reality that landed me in the mental hospital. I was in so much emotional pain, my body was hormonally unbalanced, I had no sleep and I was in shambles. My mind detached from my body to escape this reality I was in. This meant that on Julian’s homecoming, when my entire immediate family gathered round to welcome Julian “home” (where he would stay at Tom’s aunt and uncles place for a while so Tom count have support), I wasn’t there. I was not there with my baby. I was absent. I missed the first two weeks of my baby’s life. Where was momma?
For the first couple of months of Julian’s life, that was how it was- although I was there physically after I was released from the hospital, I was emotionally detached. We had a lot of help to take care of Julian from family from my amazing relatives, and Tom got a leave of absence from work.
And that is the story of Julian Thomas’ birth. It took me a whole year to write it because it was a traumatic experience for me. Now, looking back, I can look at the photos of Julian’s birth day in a whole new light. I scrutinize the photos and examine every little piece of his face, looking at his beautiful eyes, little button nose and perfect body. But I couldn’t see that then. I couldn’t see HIM. All I could see was Down syndrome.
Today, as you can read and see in my recent blog entries, I am in a much better place and Julian is doing great. But I realized that in order to face the present, you must face the past. So I decided to do that tonight. I have since forgiven myself for the thoughts I had about Julian when he was first born. That was not easy to do.
Thanks for reading.
Julian turns ONE on Sunday so stay tuned for some awesome photos as we celebrate our beautiful little guy’s life on earth so far.
You can read a bit more about my struggle with post partum depression and the days following Julian’s birth in my posts “Gretchen’s story” and “Reflections of the Past“.
Here are the how to get pregnant tips I promised you:
How to get pregnant:
1) Go get an ovulation predictor kit at CVS.
2) Start keeping track of your cycle length on a calendar (I used Google Calendar) if you do not already know how many days your cycle is. To do this, get a calendar and mark day 1 as the first day your period starts. Keep counting from there…Day 2 is the second day of your period, Day 3 is the third day of your period, and so on and so forth. That last day before your next period starts is the total length of your cycle. The average cycle length for women is 28 days, but there is a range between 21 and 35 days.
4) Start ovulation test kit testing about 2 weeks (the range is 11-16 days) BEFORE your next period is supposed to start. For example, if you have a 28 day cycle, subtract 14 days, so you would start testing on day or 12 of your cycle.
5) Once your ovulation test is positive this indicates the release of the “lutenizing hormone” (LH) indicating the start of your luteal phase, so your egg will be released within 24-36 hours, An egg typically lives for 12 hours or so.
6) You don’t have to try to time doing the baby dance EXACTLY when the egg being released since spermies will live up to 5 days before and 1 day after ovulation….so the key is to surround your little eggie with spermies around that time (aka do the baby dance as much as possible, but once a day is enough. Doing it more than that will just tire you out I’ve found. But of course, it couldn’t hurt. 
7) test once morning and then again in the mid afternoon/early evening. for a positive test it really MUST be the exact same color or darker than the test/control line. And usually when it is positive it shows up pretty quickly (at least with mine). so if it fades in over time that is probably a negative. and sometimes there is a really faint line on the test line - also negative.
6) sometimes your surge only lasts a few hours so if you don’t “catch” the LH surge your first cycle testing twice a day on your first cycle, then move to testing for ovulation three times a day next cycle
7) also watch the consistency of your cervical mucous which will increase as ovulation approaches. Some women will feel a “drying up” of the cervical mucous right after ovulation
8) do NOT bother charting your basal body temperature..(another ovulation indicator….way too complicated in my opinion)
9) relax and get to know your cycles and you do not have to do it like bunnies every day when you are ovulating to get preggars. do what feels right
10) some people say that if you stay lying down after intercourse or prop up your bum that helps little spermies with gravity.
Thank you for sharing your birth story, and your darling baby boy.
I still remember the many different feelings and memories I had of my son’s birth the week before his first birthday.
My OB/Gyn and his nurse each had sons with Down syndrome of their own, 16 and 4 years old, so I had up to date information and wonderful support from the local community. It was still a very personal and complicated journey – somewhat more difficult because I did not believe other people’s stories about their children or that my son would be who he turned out to be just a few years later.
I should have guessed just from the twinkle in his eye.
I look forward to reading more about your adventures raising Julian. He looks like a real firecracker!
Oh, honey! What a gut-wrenching read. I have to confess that I never had the shock and sadness that I hear most moms of kids with Down syndrome have when they find out. I think in my case that it’s purely a matter of perspective – we had so much trouble before Nathan came along that when I (unexpectedly!) got pregnant with him, I believed from the first day that something was going to go dreadfully wrong. For me, the fact that he “only” had Down syndrome was almost a relief. Mr. Andi, however, was very upset and I worried a lot about him in the beginning.
Don’t worry about not being there in the beginning. Sarah Kate spent almost two months in the hospital – most of it in an isolette, only allowed to be held for 30 total minutes per day – and we have bonded just fine and are very close. In fact, she’s sitting next to me right now, so close that it’s making it difficult for me to type!
Thank you for sharing.
yours is a touching story of love. it is wonderful that you share this story with the world. there is so much to be learned from your honesty. congratulations to your family as you celebrate Julian’s first year. you are a beautiful family! HAPPY BIRTHDAY sweet boy!
-shannon (frankie’s mom)
I cried the entire post.
I have a 3 year old daughter with Ds.
Looking back at her first few months, I completely regret the way I felt – I was so depressed and angry I missed out on pretty much her first 3 months.
I’m subscribing – I need to see more of that handsome boy!
Thank you for being so honest and sharing this!
I loved this post. Thank you so much for sharing.
My son is almost 10 months old and we found out that he has Down syndrome when he was almost 3 months old (long story).
I can relate, still, to everything that you’ve said in this post. Everything is getting better for me, but I still have bad days. And I regret them as I feel them. It’s mostly jealousy and bitterness towards people that have typical kids (like it’s their fault or something).
I am subscribing. Julian is ADORABLE! I just wanna squeeze him!
Also following on twitter! @ k n e e l e i g h
Thanks for sharing your story!!!
Doug McIver Amazing post Gretchen. Thanks for sharing.
June 3 at 2:42am · Like
Abby Allan Wow!!! Gretchen you are an amazing woman…you certainly inspire me!! Thanks for sharing! Can’t wait to keep reading xx
June 3 at 7:30am via Facebook Mobile · Like
Danielle Ouellette Athanasiadis Gretchen I have to stop crying to write this. You are an athlete, a strong woman, but most of all an amazing mom! You described an experience I can share. Thank you so much! Your family is awesome!
June 3 at 7:39am · Like
Diane Schuler Thank you for sharing this, Gretchen. Amazing journey of self discovery, growth, acceptance.
June 3 at 8:19am · Like
Chatham Yankauskas Flynn Happy early birthday cute boy Gretchen you are amazing!
June 3 at 9:01am · Like
Lisa Messier Wilcox Thanks for sharing this, Gretchen – what a beautiful story!
June 3 at 9:20am · Like
Amber Frances Witschey Gretchen- You are an inspiration and I am so happy that we now know each other! I love reading your stories. I smile every time I see a new one posted. I hope Julian and Colton get to have play dates even though we are a little far away!
June 3 at 1:04pm · Like
Caroline Yu Vespi Hi Gretchen — I appreciated reading your story. You are a true trouper and Julian is lucky to have you as his mom.
Happy Birthday, Julian!
June 3 at 1:30pm · Like
Erica Smith Caban You are truly, truly amazing and Julian is SO lucky to have you as his mother!
June 3 at 2:36pm · Like
Ruth S. Perkins you are astounding…i am in awe. “you’ve come a long way, baby”
June 3 at 7:48pm · Like
Hope Canter Noar I wrote on your blog but I will reiterate how much I respect you for sharing your deep and true experiences! I can relate to how you were feeling then, and I think you had to go through that to bring yourself to where you are now. Having taught a down syndrome child and reading your posts, I have come to appreciate how special they are! I am confident that with the love and attention that you and Tom are giving Julian, he will continue to amaze you with his progress! I hope to see you all this summer!
June 3 at 8:06pm · Like
Judy Kestigian- LeFort I love all the pictures you post with your blog :0) such a beautiful family. Julian is blessed to have you. Happy 1st Birthday!!
This was beautifuly written, I cried through the whole thing. My son Russell is 19 months old now, we found out after he was born that he had Down syndrome. Its difficult to say that the birth of your child was the most traumatizing event of your life…But for me it was. It took me the whole first year to come to terms with the emotions and thoughts I had the first week he was born. I had a hard time forgiving myself for the shock I felt, the anger, the fear, the sadness…I am always greatful to other Mothers who share what they REALLY felt in the beginning, it helps me feel less alone knowing I wasnt the only one who had a hard time at first accepting the Ds.
Julian is adorable!! You have a beautiful little family and I look forward to following your blog
Thank you for sharing. My 3 year old wants to know why I am crying. You are an amazing woman and mom. Julian is very blessed!
Thank you for sharing your story! I was also told there was a higher chance my baby would have DS, and my husband and I declined the amnio. Our baby girl did not have DS after all, however, as I said here at http://ortlundsincanada.blogspot.com/2007/04/blogging-against-disablism-day.html, I suspect I might have responded similarly. I know I would have loved my baby to pieces in the end, just as you do. It’s so important to have stories like yours out there. You didn’t sugarcoat anything, and yet, anyone can see how amazing it is that you have Julian in your life!
Amazing birth story. I’m so glad that you shared it in all honesty. You’re right, in order to move forward with the future, we have to forgive ourselves for our initial reactions. I think we’ve all been there, and find ourselves to be better people because of it. I think you did wonderfully- a surprise diagnosis at birth would be insanely difficult and yet here you are, not only loving your son, but leading a whole group towards helping the world accept our children for who they truly are! If we can finally get our Boston Ds clinic appointment set up, we should get together while we’re down there. (-:
Hi Gretchen,
I just read “Julian Thomas: A Birth Story”, “Gretchen’s story” and “Reflections of the Past“.
I guess I wanted to share some thoughts around: 1. Your words 2. My response to your words 3. My own story with Julian. I decided to keep it ‘Order of Appearance’ so here we go:
3. My own story with Julian:
I first met Julian in Sign Language class at the town library. He was there with his grandma, and I kept thinking what an amazing sweet boy he was. I also felt jealous of his (unknown) mother, since you have your mother/in-law around, and I don’t have any family in the States. I briefly thought, “does he have…?” but after observing him and the other kids some more, a decided “no”. I attended a European Elementary School together with many children with varying degrees of special needs, so I guess I felt I had some way of knowing. Julian’s grandmother was so nice and attentive to my son, and I was looking forward to seeing them every week. After class ended I never saw them again, and I sometimes thought “what happened to them, I wonder why I never see them around?”, and “I hope I see them again”.
It wasn’t until I received your email on playgroups in town, and connected with you on Facebook that I found out that Julian is your son, your story and the DS. My first thought was “I know who Julian is!” with excitement, and “maybe now we get to see him again”.
2. Your words:
Your story is breathtakingly beautiful. I cried like everyone else, and I salute your ability to put down in words so eloquently your parenthood-path and feelings.
3. My response to your words:
I think every mothers heart breaks in the same way, and we all feel the fear that we won’t live up to the task – even more so when we are faced with extra challenges. We all want the best for our kids, and protect them from any harm. You are not alone. In my eyes you just had to live through a time feeling all those things harder than most other mothers. Maybe that means you’ll get to love that much more also…
In my class at the school I mentioned above, we had three kids with special needs. Even though the kids would pick on each other like mad, we all left those three alone. Always. One of them was a boy named Olav. He made us all grow up, because he always acted with kindness and maturity when the rest would act like…kids. Everyone loved him regardless of their differences, and I still think of him. Beauty comes in so many forms, and I think everyone – regardless of age and background appreciates that.
I know you’ll be fine, because you are a fighter. It’s in every word on your pages here. I smile when I think about your family. You have each other, and that is a lot.
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Hi, Gretchen:
This is one of the most heartbreakingly honest things I’ve ever read. Thank you for this. It makes me so proud to have known you.
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I just wanted to introduce myself. I feel inclined because after finding your blog I feel like our lives are parallel on so many levels. I too had a baby boy with DS on 6/30/10 (at 36 weeks). My odds were 1 in 200 after a couple soft markers and I really never thought it would happen to us and they missed the heart defect on 2 different level 2 ultrasounds and 10 regular ultrasounds. The second I looked in his eyes I also knew. I was 32 and it was our first child. We decided we were willing to take our chances and we got pregnant again and just had another boy 4/14/12. I read the story of Julian’s birth and plan on doing more reading soon. I admire those of you that can so eloquently share your stories. I’m now following you on facebook!