Monday, September 21, 2015

I Never Knew I Wanted a Child with Down Syndrome Until I Had One



I had a dream this past week that Baker woke up without Down Syndrome.
 
Like his extra chromosome was absorbed into his plush minky sheets.
Or as if the sandman had carted it off in his knapsack and tucked it beside the lavender he used for lulling.
It was gone.
Kaput. 
Vamoose.
  
His beautiful eyes still boasted their autumn pools, but lacked the almond slant that never fails to draw me in and captivate my whole being.
 
His tongue remained tucked obediently inside his cheek, not once lagging like it does on occasion, especially when he is focusing so intently.
 
His hands hung by his side not in front of his face for signing, as words bounded from his lips articulate and coherent and utterly foreign.
 
As I reached in to hug him, his body did not collapse into mine, as is my very favorite thing about Baker - the way his low muscle tone makes him puddle into my eager embrace.
He was stiff.
Solid.
Strong.
 
His steps did not waiver, not once did his balance falter. He was sure footed and walked with a stability his little body has never known.
 
In that instant, he became a typical child.
Gone were the thoughts of IEPs.
Therapies were tossed into oblivion. 
His struggles became successes. 
The specialists on speed dial were no more.
 
I sat abruptly in bed. Tears streaming. Faint whimpers escaped my lips.
I navigated through the dark room and padded the familiar steps to Baker's bed.
I picked him up and felt his warm body fold sleepily into mine.
 
It was just a dream.
He was still the same Baker Boy I had read Let me Hold You Longer, while his little body relaxed and his eyes grew heavy.
He was still the same Baker Boy I had rocked and sang "This Little Light of Mine," and to seal the deal, "You are My Sunshine" only hours earlier. 
Nothing had changed.
Everything had changed.
 
I don't know who said it originally, but I believe it to the very depths of my being.
I never knew I wanted a child with Down Syndrome until I had one.
No truer words have ever been spoken.
 
He is loved exactly the way he is.
He is one of our Creator's greatest masterpieces.
He was crafted in love.
He was knit together wonderfully.
He is a joy spreader, a light brightener, a glad giver. 
 
 
 
 
Being his mother is the greatest blessing.
Watching his life bring glory to our Jesus is an incredible gift.
 
Just the way you are, sweet Baker, we love you just the way you are.
  
"For we know that in all things, Christ works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose."
Romans 8:28
 

3 comments:

  1. Thank you so much for guest posting! XOXO It's such a beautiful post!

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  2. Exactly the way I feel. Having a child with Down Syndrome makes you appreciate all the little things in life as well as celebrate the major steps when they are made. Our life would be less full (is that grammatically correct?) without our sweet boy/young man (he'll be 30 in a few months!!!). He has taught us how to enjoy each day, persevere through the hard times, show compassion, unconditional love, and how to find the joy in each day. Some days are hard days but then, this was true for his two typical brothers, too. God is good ALL the time.

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  3. Love this post. And it was me who penned it about my son with Down syndrome. Kai is now 6. And we adopted our oldest, Peter, 3 years ago from Ukraine. Kai was about 6 mos old when it struck me just how lucky and fortunate I was to have had him. I'm sure others have said it before but it became my signature in babycenter and in the title of my blog. I love seeing people feel the same sentiments and spreading the word. Your son is beautiful.

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