Can I just repeat what I said yesterday?  I am SO excited about having the opportunity to feature Jen Sanchez and her blog Three’s a Charm.  Jen is married and has three GORGEOUS children.  On her blog she writes about the joys that accompany motherhood as well as her journey with her youngest son Joaquin, who was diagnosed with Down syndrome when he was three months old.  The Sanchez family is also in the process of another noble and fabulous event, which will be featured in pt. 2 of this series.  

As I read through Jen’s archives, there were many posts that I fell in love with, but The Boy That Never Was went straight to my heart.  I love Jen’s sincere and honest account of her feelings and emotions during the first few months of Joaquin’s life, and the invaluable lessons she has learned from him.  Don’t forget to check back to read the second part of the feature about the Sanchez family and a beautiful little girl named Sofia.   

The Boy That Never Was

When I look at my son’s face, I cannot imagine a more perfect little boy. He is exactly as he should be.

It wasn’t that long ago though that I mourned the boy that never was. I was inspired to write this after reading Adrienne’s blog post at Our Unexpected Journey. She gave me the courage to write about my early thoughts after receiving Joaquin’s diagnosis when he was three months old.

When I was pregnant with Joaquin, I fantasized about having my third boy and I was quite proud and excited to add yet another handsome, smart boy to the family. When we first came up with Joaquin’s name, I googled it to see if there were any other Joaquin Sanchez’s in the world and I was surprised to find a gorgeous and talented soccer player in South America. I immediately had images of my third son following in these footsteps- possibly becoming a famous athlete some day. I fantasized about the three of our boys taking care of us as we grew older, watching over and protecting their mom. I had the whole image in my head. That perfect little family picture.

Would he be the one to follow in his grandfather and great grandfather’s footsteps and become a doctor? Would he be the smartest of my three boys? Would he be an amazing athlete? Would he be even more good looking than my other two boys? I’m embarrassed and ashamed to even admit this stuff. It sounds so superficial now and it was.

Then, shortly after receiving the diagnosis of DS, I thought to myself….well, maybe Joaquin will be a superstar with DS. He will overcome all his obstacles, meet his milestones faster than most, and he would be different than others with DS. Again, I’m embarrassed and ashamed to admit this. It was almost as if we could wash away the DS part of him. I even flirted with the idea of testing him for mosaic DS because maybe somehow this was better than true Trisomy 21. What on earth was I thinking? I was still caught up in that perfect family image.

I would also stare at his face those first few days after the diagnosis and think, he’s so beautiful but would he have been even more beautiful if he didn’t have DS? I fought with my own thoughts about accepting and loving the face I was looking at but at the same time trying to imagine him without the extra chromosome and the tell tale facial characteristics. I found myself focusing on the photos without his tongue sticking out or without the crossed eyes. The ones where the DS was not noticeable. Maybe it would magically disappear. I’m certainly not proud to admit this.

Thank God I was given the opportunity to see what really is most important. Although I mourned the possibility of what I thought was a perfect child, my eyes have been opened to the fact that Joaquin and his “flawed” genetic makeup is more than perfect. He is beautiful. Inside and out. His true beauty comes from within and shines bright in his presence. He has already taught us more than we will ever be able to teach him. He may never be a doctor or a famous athlete but he will change the world. He already has. Our eyes are open to the richness and beauty in life that is unexpected. It’s like my buddy Forrest Gump said so eloquently, “Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you are going to get.” And when it comes to chocolate, I have yet to meet a piece I didn’t like!

Now I want to share Joaquin with the world. THIS is the face of Down syndrome. THIS is what so many people fear. THIS is what some “caring” professionals want to eliminate with earlier prenatal testing. I want the world to see and know what I know now. THIS is the son I never knew I wanted or needed in my life. The boy that never was IS the boy that was supposed to be. Thank you God for blessing me with Joaquin. I am forever grateful.

A couple weeks ago, I posted a link to thisblog.  I have been reading Kelle’s adventures with her spunky almost 3-year-old Lainey, and new beautiful baby Nella for quite a while now.  If you have read her blog, or Nella’s birth story, you already know that Nella is a beautiful little baby who happens to have an extra chromosome. 

I have since heard that there is magic in that extra chromosome, and I have to tell you. . .I believe it. 

I have felt such an overwhelming feeling of awe towards Nella and the sense of perspective and hope that she brought into the world with her, that I have been pursuing more blogs written by parents who have BEAUTIFUL children.  Beautiful children who also have Down syndrome.  Again, I am in awe.  These special little children, along with their special families have taught me so much, and I have been nothing but a distant spectator admiring them as I lurked through the pages of their blogs.  I have been so inspired that I wanted to do a special blog feature mini-series highlighting one of these amazing families.  I am SO thrilled to have this opportunity. 

I was hoping to get the features up by March 21st which happened to be World Down Syndrome Day, but even though that day has come and gone, I hope that we can all become more aware of the fact that the people who happen to have an extra chromosome are more like us than we may realize, and that there truly is magic in the 21st chromosome.

I will be featuring a post tomorrow written by Jen, the author of Three’s a Charm.  Check back, it will be well worth it!

Happy Thursday everybody!  I am so excited about today’s blog feature.  I am excited to have the opportunity to feature Lisa from Adventures in Motherhood.  Lisa is a busy mom of six beautiful children.  On her blog she shares many of her joys, and struggles of being a mother.  She has graciously given me permission to feature this beautiful post, when you’re finished reading, please be sure to visit Lisa and her clan over at Adventures in Motherhood. . .

A Little Magic

When Kevin, my 13-year-old, was very small and occasionally had trouble going to sleep, I used Magic Sleep Dust on him. It was so long ago that it’s hard to remember how I even came up with it. I would have him lie down in his bed and close his eyes, and then I would pull some Magic Sleep Dust (invisible, of course) from my pocket and sprinkle it over his closed eyes, ever-so-gently tickling his eyelashes so he could feel it. “Now, you have to keep your eyes closed or it won’t work,” I’d tell him. “You can’t open your eyes until morning, no matter what, okay?” He would nod his little head, with his eyes screwed tightly closed and a grin on his face. And it never failed to work. Of course he would keep his eyes closed so the “magic” could work, and he’d fall asleep.
 
Somewhere along the line, I lost this. Over the large gap of time between when Kevin was very small and susceptible to magic and the time when the next child came along, and amid the ever increasing chaos of bedtime with the steady increase in the number of kids who need to be put to bed, this little magic trick was forgotten.
 
The other day, out of the clear blue, apparently feeling nostalgic, Kevin said to me, “Mom, remember the Magic Sleep Dust?” And a little shockwave went through me as suddenly it all came back to me. Of course! Magic Sleep Dust! How could I have forgotten that? How is it that I’ve never used that on any of the other kids aside from Kevin? It made me feel sad, actually, and even a little mournful, to realize that such a long time has passed since Kevin was still in footie pajamas and open to magic, and that I allowed something so simple and yet so special slip through the cracks.
 
Last night, we dealt with the usual bedtime craziness. A little while after all the littles were tucked into bed, Lilah, our 3-year-old, crept out of her room. “Mama?” she said. “I can’t go to sleep.”
 
So I took her by the hand and walked her back into her room, settled her into bed, and said, “Okay, I have just the thing. Close your eyes, and I’m going to sprinkle them with Magic Sleep Dust. But it only works if you keep your eyes closed all night long, okay?” She had the biggest grin on her face! “Are you ready?” I asked. She nodded “Okay, close your eyes . . .” and I pulled some invisible Magic Sleep Dust from my pocket, sprinkled it over her eyes, ever-so-gently tickling her eyelashes, and then I kissed her forehead and got up to leave the room. I looked over and both of her sisters were sitting up in bed, watching raptly, speechless.
 
I didn’t hear another peep from Lilah for the rest of the night. Of course it worked. A little mommy magic always works.
 
It felt like a gift. Like this mommy still has a few tricks up her sleeve.

~Thanks Lisa!  I am most definitely going to try that one on my own kids tonight!

Today Ellie ripped off her diaper, pooped on my bedroom floor, and dug through her poop with Luke’s toothbrush.

I didn’t take any pictures.

You’re welcome.

I am smitten by this blog.  It was there that I read this overwhelming appropriate quote:

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day, I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”

I. love. it.  I really do.  On this day, this blissfully “normal” day, my four-year-old son rushed into the kitchen and with a sense of urgency declared, “I’m going to be doing something that’s going to keep me VERY busy!”

“What might that be?”  I asked

“Science.”  He responded boldly and confidently

I quickly shot back, “Wow, what kind of science?”

“The kind that has never been done before.”

Ok. 

With that, his older brother decisively declared his desire to join in, then the fun began. 

They quickly got to work gathering their supplies which included: 

• Various Parts of a Breast Pump,
• Several Halloween Cups,
• Bottle Nipples
• Medicine Droppers
• Measuring Cups
• Soap
• Water

What more could aspiring scientists ask for?

As for Ellie. . .She couldn’t have been happier.

This is her best friend, Cow.  Yes that’s right, her best friend happens to be a giraffe.  A giraffe who seems to have no problem being named  “Cow.” 

Thank you normal day.