There are moments when I forget that my son has Down syndrome. His spirited two-year-old tantrums, his playful smile, and his determined nature often divert my attention. Alex is both stubborn and warm-hearted; when his older sister is in the throes of a dramatic meltdown, he’s the first to rush over to comfort her. He loves to climb into laps, gently brushing his tiny fingers against your cheek as his way of expressing, “I love you.”
Of course, he can be quite the little troublemaker too, opening drawers and scattering toys everywhere. When I confront him, he lowers his head and peeks up with a cheeky grin that seems to say, “Sorry.” Sometimes he helps tidy up, but more often, he simply moves on to his next adventure in mischief. Music captivates him; he can’t help but dance the moment he hears a tune. Whether he’s singing along to “Itsy Bitsy Spider” or “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” his mood shifts in an instant. During fireworks on the Fourth of July, he finds rhythm in the explosions, dancing without a care.
In those moments, I forget that he has Down syndrome; to me, he’s simply Alex—my son, and Abi’s brother—a sweet, willful, and remarkable little boy. Yet, it’s hard to forget when others remind me in insensitive ways. Like that cashier who shot me a pitying look and whispered, “I bet you wish you had known before he was born. They have tests for that now…” Anger surged through me, and I fought the urge to lash out. Instead, I mustered a smile and replied, “I know, right?! It’s far tougher to get rid of them once they’re here. Believe me, I’ve tried…”
Her shock was evident, and I leaned in to whisper, “So what you’re saying is that it’s acceptable to terminate a pregnancy but not to harm a child once they’re born? For me, there’s no difference. During my pregnancy, we knew everything about him, and there’s no way I would ever allow harm to come to either of my children, not even in the womb.”
Sometimes, I forget that others don’t always see Alex; they see a “Downs kid.” They perceive a burdened family and a sister who must be struggling. They view a child who must be suffering. I only remember when I catch the pity in their eyes or overhear their misguided comments.
It’s easy to forget that they simply don’t understand. They haven’t heard Alex’s laughter or felt the warmth of his smile. They haven’t witnessed his sister fiercely protecting him, despite her claims of not liking “boy babies.” They don’t see the pride that swells in our hearts as he achieves new milestones.
I sometimes forget that I was once in their shoes too. Before Alex, my knowledge of Down syndrome came solely from nursing textbooks, which only left me heartbroken and envisioning a child who would be listless and incapable. But I didn’t know.
Ultimately, to us, he’s just Alex, and that’s how it should be. For more insights on parenthood and fertility, check out resources like this article on boosting fertility, or learn about the benefits of intimacy during ovulation. For valuable information on insemination success rates, WebMD provides excellent resources.
In Summary
It’s essential to remember that our children are individuals first, regardless of their diagnosis. Understanding and kindness can go a long way in creating a supportive environment for families like ours.