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Momma Monday
I haven’t had time to ponder my resolutions. Life has been more day-to-day focused in the new year. The Quail is home and better. It turned out to be bronchiolitis rather than pneumonia both this time and last. I’ve just been trying to puzzle through the last few months and work out in my own mind how big a deal all of her illnesses have been or amount too. I don’t want to over-react, nor of course under-react. Since she’s been born she has been generally healthy. She got sick with a fever and virus last May for the first time and was given breathing treatments as it settled in her chest and she had some wheezing. That worked and she was fine until she got her first ear infection in august. The infection itself cleared up fast with antibiotics but the fluid lingered for a good 6 weeks and she actually failed a hearing test during that time due to the fluid. Zuzu had ear infections straight from 7 months-13 months at which point we had tubes put in. Zuzu would get so ill with them: high fever, vomiting, then thrush and diarrhea from the antibiotics. No symptoms for a week then at each check- up there would still be fluid or signs of a new infection within a week or two and so we would start a new round of antibiotics and begin the cycle again. It was tiring and frustrating. Once she got the tubes she still had a handful of infections but by comparison- not nearly as ill. She was in daycare too and it seemed to coincide with the point in which she became more independent and could crawl and grab toys and slobber on other kidlets. So here we are again- only with the Quail the virus seems to go down into her chest rather than up into her ears. The first time she got quite ill and required an emergency room visit was in November when on the weekend her fever spiked- she was treated for the flu since her lungs and ears were clear and her fever was spiking a second time. Pneumonia followed that. She finished up her H1N1 and seasonal flu vaccines shortly after that.
Then in December there was a huge commotion with the drug manufacturers in trying to get her RSV vaccination. It finally got straightened out and came into the pediatricians office literally the same day she showed symptoms of RSV. She was hospitalized for breathing difficulties a day or two later. When she went in to the ER they said RSV, dehydration and pneumonia. Later it got clarified that it was brochiolitis, not pneumonia- which often will follows RSV. As soon as she was fever free for 24 hours she was able to get started on that vaccination regimen. We kept her home extra long after that stay just to be safe and give her adequate time to recuperate. Well then a few days after returning to daycare we noticed all of us felt sick. The Quail started a small fever a couple of weekends ago but it was there only a day and then went back to normal. On Wednesday the breathing difficulties started again. It was the chest retractions that really signalled us. She was fine- playful, cheerful and good as gold that night when I picked her up from school, then an hour later the fever started and well- the rest is written.
Since then we’ve had a couple of comments and questions about whether or not she should go to school. This is the part where I start to puzzle. It’s important to me that she be given the same opportunities as her sister. I love that she goes to the same little school as her sister and has the same teachers who love her as they loved Zuzu. I love that she plays with the same little kids and when I pick her up each night I see the same little ones playing near her. Our early intervention staff has said that she sees kids that have Down syndrome doing well in a daycare setting- that the socialization they get there is something they can’t be taught other places.
But along with that socialization comes germs. That would be the case with each and every play group, class, outing or daycare we would take part in. When we asked one of the doctors in her practice about what we can do to minimize illnesses effects on the Quail the response was, “Keep her at home”. I just don’t think that is a reasonable option. They were saying not to go to any crowded areas- including the playground, the store, daycare, etc…I admit, I’m tired and nervous these days. It’s a hard cold and flu season all the way around with the surge of H1N1 in addition to the usual suspects. Problem is I can’t predict the future. We went through this with Zuzu and now she has a hardy constitution and rarely gets sick. But that is really just in the last year. She went through her fair share of illnesses to get there. The doctors point was that the immune system will be stronger and more equipped to handle all of this when the Quail is older. I just don’t like the idea of isolating her. And to me- that’s what it sounds and feels like. I know lots of SAHM moms do an excellent job of socializing their children and I admire that. I don’t know that that would be my shining glory. We’ve also had others ask about putting her in a “special daycare” that focuses on children with disabilities. The idea of this feels antiquated to me. Having grown up with a sister with profound mental retardation that lived a good bit of her life in an institution- I just have a hard time only seeing the positives that this kind of setting can offer. I’ve spent my education and a good portion of my adulthood advocating for community integration. While we do tend to treat our therapies as separate events from our lives by scheduling a time in our day to work on, say; gross motor, or feeding therapy-it’s because our days are so blissfully chaotic and we don’t want the day to go by without some time devoted to each development issue we see specialists for- and it easily could. So far we’ve managed that alright. Some weeks better than others, but that’s life.
My hope is that we’ll get through this cold and flu season on a new medication regime that will keep her little air passages open and prevent her from getting so very sick. I admit I don’t like her being on a steroid- and especially having to give it twice a day so that one dose is before bedtime. Have you seen a tired baby hopped up on steroids at the end of a long day? Not fun for anyone. Although to be fair- she exudes bubbliness and playfullness mostly- so it amounts to her laying next to all of us and kicking and rolling over and grinning and calling out to us rather than settling in for her long winter’s nap. So it’s not all bad.
We’ve hired a lovely pediatric nursing student to stay with the Quail today and tomorrow to give her some extra rebound time and we’ll try going back to school on Wednesday and hope that all will be well. We had OT and PT today. She did excellent in PT- really much more stable and supporting herself in sitting and they were able to get her into crawling position with her portioned over a bolster for support. Good pivoting on her tummy for toys as well. OT was another story. We are getting better lip closure for feeding. Much less of her peas and pears returned to us. She loves when we use the Z-vibe spoon and smiles at her honeybear- although a good portion of that falls out of her mouth as well. Her positioning is not good though and we are looking at how to adapt her sitting to ensure a 90-90-90 degree angle for feeding. But her little legs don’t bend at the knee in our seats. We are starting SRJ bubble-blowing protocol to try to build up lung capacity as well. This therapy everyone is excited about- and by everyone I mean Zuzu and the Quail- the Quail shrieks in delight as all the bubbles I don’t manage to catch on the wand go ambling past and Zuzu leaps and bounds to try to catch them, hollering, “Do me, do me”. I try to tell her to not jump in the middle and she can have a turn- but that is like asking a golden retriever puppy to not jump up when you are holding his favorite toy!
We’ll just keep puzzling through and see how things go. I’m oh-so-glad for southern winters right now though- they are brief and not nearly as severe as the midwestern ones I was raised on.
Momma Monday- New Beginnings
Ever since I was a small one I’ve loved the new year. The opportunity for a fresh start to become the person you want to be. Why the atmosphere is so much different around it rather than other times of the year I don’t know. But there is something about the brisk, chilly air; the clear, pure blues and sharply outlined lightness of clouds in a January sky that inspire me. You turn the page of a new calendar and turn a new dawn and voila! The world waits to see what you will do. Now that we live in the south there is also the delight of knowing that spring is not far away. That in just a month or so small buds will unfurl and bright color will start to dot the garden. Even now if you walk through the cultured nearby botanical gardens and know which turns to take you can find the smiling full blooms of the sasanqua camellias. Their lovely shape, fullness and variety of colors make me smile to know that they are standing silently by just waiting for me to happen upon them.
The last few years we have stumbled into a few other welcomings of the new year as well. Co-workers of Lovey’s have an annual New Year’s Eve bash that begins at their home where everyone, note particularly the small ones are invited to play together and have their early meal. It is a pot-luck event where some of my favorite local family cooks are included and the food is wonderful- from the anti-pasto plate and smoked salmon, to the variety of breadmakers finest fare to the soups and salads. It’s become a neighborhood gathering that we feel fortunate to be included in since we actually live a few miles from the neighborhood. After the children are settled in with their steaming bowls of pasta and busy reconnecting with the others and the older children have been assigned to sitter duties; the grown-ups amble over to another lovely home lit with luminaries and twinkling lights where there is wine, port, fine appetizers and even finer company. We went last year when I was humongously pregnant with The Quail and I swear it was the best time we had as a couple in ages. Even our tired selves were so invigorated by the festive atmosphere that we managed to stay out to ring in the New Year. After the reception we all headed back to the original home to check on our brood and settle in with a hearty, international meal and wait for the clock to strike twelve! Last year one of the families from Poland introduced the children to the folktale of The Stone Soup told with actual vegetable assignments for them over an open fire and stirred and simmered until after midnight for one last hearty meal before heading home. This year our Zuzu curled up on a wrought-iron bed and snored in the new year while The Quail wore her tiara and chortled it in along with the grown-ups. I hear there was also an additional home offering dessert but we didn’t make it over to that one.
On New Year’s day we have also had the good fortune to have our family included in another friend’s southern tradition of welcoming in the new year and inviting good luck into the year by feasting on hoppin’ john, rice, pork and collard greens. This is yet another group of fabulously talented cooks and we are so very blessed to be included in their festivities as well. Last year we had a little ceremonial embracing of what we hoped to invite into our lives and what we hoped to let go of. We shared them with the group and then blessed them to the earth. I thought we might do this again and so I had my items prepared for the event. Since we didn’t have a chance to do this instead I offer them out to cyberspace in hopes of sealing my success and inner peace!
This year I hope to embrace:
1. Moderation in my daily life
2. Connection- with friends, family, myself and community
3. Health- for me, my home and my family
4. Creative Inspiration and embracement of my expression of it
I hope to let go of these:
1. Clutter
2. Worry or rumination over negative energies and concerns
3. Anger or negative reaction as opposed to thoughtful action in response to something upsetting/bothersome
4. Emotional eating and nibbling out of anxiety
I’ll be working on goals for the year as well- both revising my earlier family goals post and setting some loose goals for myself in books I hope to read this year, music I hope to listen to, movies I hope to watch and activities I hope to take part in. These are things that I don’t always find I make time for much anymore. Mostly I hear children’s music, read children’s books and watch children’s shows. And while I’m happy to do those things with the children- I think I need to add some grown up versions back into my life so I don’t burn out or begin to resent Barney, Tinkie-Winkie, Wordgirl, Elmo, Kipper and Angelina. I also know that my children seeing me do these things for myself will set a good example for how they should naturally treat themselves as they grow up.
Speaking of which- time to go roast the chicken!
Momma Monday: Home again, home again, jiggity-jig
Do you know how truly blessed you are? I do. Sometimes I forget. Sometimes I get edgy, angry, impatient, ruffled, tired, self-centered, sick, greedy, jealous, frustrated…. The list of ugly adjectives go on and on. But that’s not who I need to be. It’s not who I want to be. It’s what I try to work my little self away from. Since my husband and children have come into my life my heart has grown infinitely. Thank goodness. I think of before them and I can’t remember how I spent my time, what I thought about, the rhythm to those days. Sometimes the rhythm of these days get to me too.
The Quail and I spent most of last week in the hospital, a little scared, a little tired, a little anxious, but mostly just with each other. It’s the most undivided time I have had the good fortune to have with this baby. When she was born; Lovey and I did stay the regulation two days in the hospital but it was filled with fear and worry about what was going on and what was to come. This time I was healthy and just there to care for my baby. Those of you with more than one child know what I mean. You never again that undivided, focused attention on your children. Even when you are with one, a part of your heart is beating for the other. You cannot know how deliciously undivided your mind and time were with your first child until you have your second and you think back and wonder what all the worry and fretting was about. It’s one of life’s ironies isn’t it- that inability to see how easy something is until the circumstance has changed so unalterably. And yet, you don’t want to alter that circumstance.You can’t and you hope and you pray that you’ll never have to. 
So we are now home from the hospital. We came home in a rush of good cheer to find that the rosy cheeks on Zuzu were not due to her holiday spirit. Within an hour her fever spiked, her throaty cough deepened and her polite asking for Momma to stay with her because she didn’t feel good broke my heart. We put her to bed with Motrin after what she delightedly called her “breathing treat” and gratefully albeit fretfully watched her sleep through the night. The next morning her fever spiked even higher and a call to the doctor was made. My concern was that neither her nor her sister have had the booster shot for the H1N1 flu. But wise Lovey pointed out she also has a snotty, runny nose so most likely she is carrying the RSV virus like her sister and has not acquired a new illness altogether. The doctor said to keep an eye on her and if she isn’t experiencing any breathing difficulty then bring her into the office tomorrow to be checked. So we are. The Motrin seem to have brought her temperature back down to the low 100’s and she is still a cheerfully, polite, helpful little soul that has artfully designated her cough pocket as one side of her jammy-clad elbows and her sneeze pocket as the other.
So the house is quietly being mended with everything working its way back to its place. The pecan kringle is warming in the oven, Andy William’s is ready to spin on the record player and our Christmas tree is filling our souls and home with the scent of fir. The small ones are napping now and once they awaken we’ll begin trimming the tree, hanging our stockings, drinking our eggnog & making the best of our altered Christmas plans. We are sad we won’t be traveling to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s home for Christmas but will continue to read our picture books about snow and wear our parka’s out into the chilled southern air. We are oh so very grateful for Nana Dori’s willingness to change her busy holiday plans to come be with us, watch over the small ones and add festive touches of grace around our warm home. We’ll make it through with our bells jingling and stories of Santa. We may not be able to entertain or partake in most of our favorite holiday festivities this year- but that’s ok. We are blessed to be home huddled together and know that all of you out there are on our minds and in our hearts. Our Christmas packages may not make it to you by the 25th but hopefully they will arrive soon after. Our Christmas cards are here and we will be sending them off in the week to come.
Much love and gratitude for all your love and concern-
Momma Monday: Feeling better…for all of 3 minutes
The stockings are not yet hung by the fire with care
But they have been ordered and we hope they’ll soon be here.
The tree is not up, but it has been cut down
Momma’s and Baby’s illnesses are gone and are both soon to rebound.
The Holiday cards have been discussed and carefully made;
with any luck they’ll be stamped, addressed and mailed out still in this decade.
Soon the presents will be wrapped, addressed and trips to the postmaster will abound
as we rush, and we rush and we rush all around.
We’ll trim the tree, and drink the eggnog,
we’ll dance to Andy William’s and discuss the merits of a yule log.
Cookies will be iced, and twinkley lights will start to glimmer.
Trips to see St. Nick will leave tears of joy in Momma’s eyes, but bring Zuzu’s brimming to a shimmer
Momma & the Quail are much better, and dear Zuzu and Lovey are still well.
Tis the time to read stories, watch Rudolph and sing Silver Bells
I’ll stop waxing on there since the Quail was a bit of a crabby-crab this morning as her nose glistened with little germlets and she coughed, and cried and cranked her way through therapy. And yet we still acted like first time parents and wondered what on earth could be making her so cranky, she seemed hungry but didn’t want to eat, thirsty but didn’t want to drink, tired but didn’t want to sleep, needing to be held but hollering when you picked her up and then again as you set her down….3 guesses….yes- another fever. Poor little lambie bird was sent home with a fever of 101 from school and by the time she got home it was up to 103.1. So off to our most accommodating pediatrician’s office who as always lovingly worked her into the schedule. Ears clear, chest clear, flu test negative and still spunky so while she will most likely be home for a few days we’re hopeful it won’t get more serious. Unfortunately this means her RSV vaccine has to be put off until she is fever free for 24 hours…and there is a baby in school with RSV. So I wouldn’t be surprised if that is our mystery visitor.
Think well thoughts for the Quail and that the rest of us bypass this one. I remember Zuzu was sick continuously from 7 months till a month after her first birthday. So we are old hat at this now. And fortunately Zuzu seems to be healthy as a horse these days. Here’s hoping the same the Quail.
Momma Monday: cough, cough, sneeze, zzzzzzz……cough, sniff, wahhhh……
Since it is a merry holiday time one could logically expect to log on to here and see a plethera of family photos of a happy group giving thanks for their many blessings, or frolicking with friends in the lovely autumnal weather. They would be sorely disappointed. We did have a lovely holiday dinner at a dear friends house and the children ran and played and terrorized the neighbors cat. We were blessed with company from Wisconsin and California. We cooked the likes of sweet potato rolls and a sweet potato souffle and indulged in some delicious smoked ham and turkey and the tastiest carrot bake I’ve ever had. After that the dearest little Quail was struck down with a fever that fortunately has now resolved. After it left her it scurried over to me made a neat nest in my chest. So Momma has been cranky, tired, shiftless and lazy. The Momma that typically gets up at 4:30 am everyday was lucky to make it up by noon and actually managed to stay in bed past that note one day. So no lovely photos, no sweet prose. Just a few coughs and sniffles and feelings of sorriness that a perfect holiday weekend was a bit lost from it’s intentions. Here’s hoping yours was a bit livelier. Did I mention I lost my credit card, the cat peed on the company’s bed and our internet and phone have been only intermittently working since last week?
Oh my…
Momma Monday: Let’s think about the word special
Stop me If I’ve told you this already. When I was in grad school getting a masters degree in social work my focus was on working with people with developmental disabilities. There was one class I had to take that the special education majors also took. I couldn’t even tell you the name of the class anymore. I’d have to find a transcript to label it. What I remember from that class was a girl who was working very hard to get the point of inclusion and that we are all the same in that we all have unique needs. I know now she really was trying, she was working hard. And now I appreciate that. At the time, I didn’t. During one class, she raised her hand and boldly joined in the conversation, proud of her epiphany, ” We all are disabled.” Hands shot up all around her and I couldn’t help my self. “No, We all have abilities.”
See the difference? While both are intended to be a step further towards enlightenment and understanding and acceptance of all people. Her version still had a negative implication. And as minor or politically correct as you may think it is- the difference matters. And let me stop right here first and say, yes- I do get that at least she got one part of the equation that a vast majority don’t. She got that we are all have the chance to fall into that category, that label, that stereotype. That just because you weren’t born and diagnosed with a disability, doesn’t mean you get a free pass at some so-called “perfect life” free from all hardship. Genetically something could be hiding. Is there anyone in your family that has had cancer, heart disease, a stroke, a mental illness or diabetes? Then yes- you too might be genetically predisposed to one of these diseases. And yes- you may cost the medical community time and money down the road. Maybe you’ll be able to manage it and it won’t have severe consequences and maybe you won’t. That’s yet to be seen. I could go on a tangent here about the diagnosing and eliminating prenatally of Down syndrome and where ethically we draw the line. Is it with people who show genetic markers for cancer, for multiple sclerosis, for diabetes, for blond hair, for a lack of math prowess, for someone who will take up smoking, someone who has a chemical imbalance and is prone to depression, someone who will sponge off their parents and not make their own way in this world? That list could go on and on. If you think you have a right to life but someone with Down syndrome doesn’t, you best think closely about your loved ones and which of them fall into these other possibly identifiable categories. Now we can see the gene for breast cancer- so do they get to live? Aren’t they are going to cost the medical community a bundle as well? Mind you- I’m saying this isn’t a good thing- this ability to start euthanizing at such an early notice and making so-called “socially perfect people”. Because trust me- human nature will find another line to draw between those that remain.
But I digress, hugely from todays point I want to make. The Special Education major. Obviously her heart was in the right place. She wants to help people. But to me there was still a thin line of work for her to cross over. She still was looking at people needing assistance at a certain level of any kind as different and negative. The word special, in spite of its definition, in terms of Special Education, is viewed as identification of challenges and how to we work around that. When people refer to a special needs child- they usually aren’t referring to the child who shows an astuteness in math, or violin, or art, or writing. But according to the definition of special- those children would have special needs as well. But with the actual definition of special- and here is where I’m getting to my point of the day; according to the actual definition of special- those children have special needs as well. They have a quality, an inclination, a natural talent, that is readily distinguishable from the larger population. They have an area that their parents believe, if given the proper attention, their child will find great joy in, will flourish in, will do like the natural they are. And so their parents send them to math camp, to private violin lessons, to the Governor’s School for Art, to the Iowa Writer’s workshop, they agree to have their child participate in the schools gifted and talented program so that their little Einstein can have his abilities challenged. And guess what happens- they do well. They flourish. They learn so much about that area. They do it beautifully and naturally. But wait- it wasn’t just natural- it was a gift that was honed and refined. With the gifted and talented program our tax dollars went to fund because we believe it’s a good thing to help children get ahead. That’s special isn’t it?
And then there are the run of the mill “special areas”. Have you ever found yourself discussing any of the following topics with your other mommy friends either on-line or in person? Little Tommy isn’t sleeping well- anyone know of a good book on sleep? Little Timmy only says 6 words out loud but we are looking up information on signing- they do that at daycare and the kids love it! Little Betty is tantruming- I need to read some discipline books- or anyone have any ideas about what works best? Little Mary is such a picky eater- I make her separate food every night. Do you make your own baby food? Do you make a point to only buy organic? How do you potty train your child? Do you have a child that is allergic to peanuts? What crafts can I teach Bobby to do? How can I teach Molly to site-read? I’m going to home-school- I want to be sure I know what my child is learning- and I want to be the one to teach them. When you go to the restroom in Target does your potty-training 2-year-old start hollering, “Poopy diaper, Mommy has a poopy diaper!” When you go to a restaurant, do you spend time teaching your child the basics of good manners- not to scream, run, throw food, use their inside voice?”
My point here- is that we all have versions of what we want to teach our child. Often modern-day, information-gathering, read-a-holic mommies and daddies, devour the latest philosophy and trends in the best approach to teaching our children. I do that. With my oldest- Zuzu- who is a newly minted 3-year-old, I have spent the equivalent of a PhD program’s research requirement in learning about her and her development and needs. I have an arsenal of parenting books- from a set of sleep books, emotional development, feeding and nutrition, discipline, health needs, attachment parenting, esteem building, raising a girl and learning to sign and communicate. What are the best toys- developmentally should we just use Waldorf style- imagination focuses, or bright lights and music stimulating toys? Prior to that when I was pregnant I bought an arsenal of pregnancy books- pregnancy week by week, month by month, natural and high-risk care. Then came the birthing books- natural child-birth, hypnobirthing and c-section preparation. Then came the breastfeeding books, the pumping books- The Nursing Mother’s Companion, The Working and Nursing Mother, The Tandem Nursing books. Then after a few positive pregnancy tests (yes I mean a few- cause of course as you POAS-a-holics understand- if one test says you are pregnant, you best take 5 more just to be sure) along came the sibling relation books and how to help your first child adapt to her new role and know she is still loved and accept and bond with her sister. And of course along with all of these different topics and the technical knowledge I wanted personal stories. So on-line I went to hear what others were going through, what other’s were doing in their pregnancies- the birth forums, the blogs, the essay collections and a little fiction when I could find the time. I also had 2 miscarriages before Zuzu- so more reading, more learning about how to make an egg stick and grow into fruition. What caused my miscarriages, what tests did I need to ask for.
Sounds like I considered Zuzu pretty special don’t you think? She had needs, yes. And she is special. I spent an inordinate amount of time reading and researching what the best method for every little inkling in her small world would be. But that’s my personal style. I know lots of well-meaning, loving parents don’t spend all their free time with a nose in a book. And that’s ok too. But that isn’t me. Then along came baby number 2. And guess what- she is special too. And so I read about Down syndrome- about what to expect, about what will come and what it might behoove us to focus on at different stages of development. So I don’t get to be lazy this second time around. But knowing me and my preference for books and learning- it really isn’t any different. Both my children are pretty special. And my guess is if you are still reading this you find your child pretty special too. So aren’t we all more alike than different? Can you see that now?
Some people say having a “special needs child” (in the traditional sense of the word) is so hard and challenging. Well I would speculate that in the glass houses theory of how we are all prone to view others- someone is saying the same thing about your world. Someone is saying, “I wouldn’t go on to try to get pregnant after one miscarriage, after 2, after a failed adoption, after having one child, after it turned out you needed a c-section, after having grown up in an unhappy home, after my uncle had schizophrenia, after I only got a middle-income job, after I lost my job, after my partner was assigned to active duty, after I decided I would rather raise dogs, I couldn’t be a single parent; I would rather go to school, I can’t afford more than one child and staying home. I would rather spend my time doing what I want to do, after meeting my sister’s kids, after meeting my neighbors kids, after seeing your child flinging noodles at the restaurant last night, your child eating cat poop out of the sandbox at the park, after seeing your child eating non-organic mixed meat hotdogs, your child needs glasses, your child died, your child got sick, your child has x, y, or z. I couldn’t handle that. But hey- I can handle my own situation. I am grateful for my own life. Well that’s good. Be grateful- love your own life- but you don’t need to speculate about how you know you couldn’t handle my life. Because frankly- I probably couldn’t handle yours either. Or maybe I could- if it was my life and I was invested in it.
I say all of this because families of children with traditionally defined special-needs children aren’t to be pitied. They don’t want anyones pity. Maybe one day they are having their own private pity party and choose to share it- but don’t you have days that you have a pity party as well? I won’t take the time to conjure up another round of ordinary situations that might be construed as frustrating given the right circumstances here. I’m guessing if you have now read this far along you get the point.
The point is the perspective. The attitude, we become our thoughts. If we think negatively about a particular circumstance in life- then yes it becomes negative. I guarantee you somewhere in this vast world or at some point in time there is someone else in the same technical circumstances but the difference is they rose to what you perceived as a challenge and learned, and went on in life. So we don’t all have disabilities. We all have abilities. It’s how we look at it, approach it, think about it and define it that is the difference between you and me. Or maybe not. Maybe you see it the same now too. Maybe we are more alike then different.
** for a more articulate version of my point in relation specifically to Down syndrome- pop over and visit Miriam and read what she has to say.
Momma Monday- Bittersweet

Nearing an end, summons a new beginning. I’ve been trying to just sit and be with my feelings; some of inadequacy, some tugs and pulls at the apron strings holding my confidence in place oh so delicately. I know this will pass- I’m just struck with my inability to know the right choice right now. I’m a mom- we’re supposed to know what is right, what is best, when to call to action and when to just be. I’m sure the right answer is there in my purse along with the spare diaper, lipstick and car keys. We do our best. But what do you do when that best is unclear. And the decision lies between the two of us. One who knows too much to be comfortable with either choice. And the other with the will of pure instinct and a new instinct that is growing. With little care for fact, or truth or my attempts to reason with her.
What I do know:
*the day will come when this is small beans
*the day will come when I will wish this was the most conflict my heart is holding
* I researched, I did my homework
* I did more than most would have thought possible from us
*I can’t know what I didn’t know any earlier then I knew it
*I did more than a lot of people rationally and acceptably do
* I tried
* She tried
*I love her
*She loves me
*We are connected and bonded irrevocably
*I know stopping may negatively impact her in the future
*I know continuing may negatively impact her in the future
*I know I had the best support and knowledge currently out there
*I know the saying that you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make her drink applies to more then horses, cats and babies
*I know my heart is breaking
* I know my heart will heal
*I know I’m tenacious to the point of being the very picture of stubborn
* I know she is too
*I know this is genetic
*I know we are more alike than different
*I know you can’t tell me anything
*I know I’m a good listener
*I know I would do it all again
* I know I’ll let it go
*I know I’ll think of something
*I know I’ll never make an ultimatum again
*I know I’ll return to that life lesson again and again
I know some will say maybe this is some sort of transference some unnamed, undiagnosed grief over not being able to control nature- what already is. But truly that doesn’t feel like it fits. That’s not what is in my heart. I know there is an outline to our lives that we will continually push up against. Sometimes it will fit best, look best, work best to ride that line, to stay within it. Sometimes we’ll do best to color over and outside of it. Sometimes we’ll pick up our mental erasers and just rid our lives of that ill-defining line and start the illustration of our lives over again. I know whichever we choose at a given time-;well, it is still the snapshot, the micro-image of our lives in that instant. It is not forever.
So I don’t know the best artist’s technique here. And maybe that’s ok. Maybe I don’t have to do it all, be right all of the time, succeed or perfect in every detail. Maybe today, just today is all I need to think about and all I need to get through till my head clears, my eyes can focus on the bigger collection of illustrations through all the shades of gray. And the lot of us can each in turn, take our own turn at illustrating what we know for the other.
I don’t know who to talk to about this. I don’t know who gets the hows, the why it matters. I feel like most don’t really get my point of view and why it is important and I don’ t know how to handle my own feelings when I can’t talk through them with someone who gets it. Do I press on? And if I do is it shear stubbornness ebbing me on like the repetitive lapping of the never-ending tide? Is that OK?
Things have been hard, really hard, lots of tears and raised, sharp voices- especially from those in our home who in theory, don’t have the skills to articulate yet. And yet- indeed, her objection is there. Calling it her wish or preference doesn’t begin to describe her dogged outrage at my not listening to her. I smile in my heart at her sheer force of will. This person is small and mighty now. She has more strength and conviction in her rightness and her presence of mind then most adults do in her brief eight months of life.
I started this note last week while in tears and turmoil myself after a follow-up session with Kathy that didn’t go any better than the previous week. I wanted a clear path- even though I wrote what I know down and that I said I know not to make ultimatums- I obviously wasn’t listening to even myself ;if not her. When we got home that evening I decided to go give the Quail a cuddle. I always feel better when I can hold her near, breathe her in, feel her soft skin and the tender spot on her head that lets me kiss her heartbeat, gaze into her true, steady eyes and quick upturned smile. So we did a little quiet, low-key bonding and then with her grabbing and rooting I got it- I got the difference between session and home nursing. I can replicate sound, sensation, lighting, texture and position, but none of tha t matters if I wasn’t conscious of the spirit in which it was offered. I had recently put my focus on an end goal, I had read of other mother’s success, I had doubted my dedication to the process and had started to judge our attempts to become what other nursing pairs are. I had ceased to focus on the Quail and our bond. I did cry a bit about this to a friend- and sure enough she didn’t get it. I repeated what Kathy had summarized for us that the Quail has the physical ability to breastfeed (anatomy structures and alignments). She is stronger and has the endurance to breastfeed. She has better neurological/sensory processing for breastfeeding. Psychologically she is struggling to accept breastfeeding. Her sucking is no longer reflexive, it is purposeful. My friend replies, “So she breastfeeds now and she didn’t used to be able to right?”
Oh. Yes. That is true. It may not look like other mother’s nursing. Of course nursing my three-year old doesn’t look like the majority of other mother’s nursing either. Many children wean by this age. Many children go through nursing strikes. Perhaps that is all the last couple of weeks were. Or maybe it was all in my head- maybe the transference at play here was my unease at what I perceived as not being successful. Because, now- now that I’m not illustrating what we do in those terms- those negative terms- we are successful. She does nurse. And sometimes she doesn’t. And; yes- I think maybe that is ok.
Momma Monday- Food and Love Week kicks off
A few of the families have been reminiscing or examining feeding with their baby that has Down syndrome. I had replied to couple of these posts but then realized it was time for me to put finger to keyboard and document our own experiences with this arena. The interesting thing about it for me is when I started to write about it, it was long, and tedious, and I think anyone who hasn’t been in this situation reading it would be put off by the amount of time, effort and struggle that has come along with it when the history is summarized here. But I’m as surprised as the next mom that there is so much to say about it. And yet I’m not. I think it is the examination of such a basic function in our lives that is long. We spend the majority of our day eating, planning to eat, thinking about eating. Especially when the scope of our thrills as a newborn involve how to become bigger. They eat, sleep and poop, God willing. Most of us are don’t need to examine how this eating and nourishment happens. It just does. Especially by the time we are rested and recovered enough from gestating and birthing our babies to actually reflect on it.
I came home from the hospital after giving birth to Zuzu with a feeding plan and a couple of extremely sore neh-nehs. It wasn’t easy then either. But now 3 years later, what I remember is what I see- a happy, healthy, bounding about faun of a girl. Not how we got here. Time often erases the intricacies and intimacies of our life before we are able to examine them too closely. For the most part that is good, it’s self-preservation. It enables us to go merrily on and think about re-creating again.
The Quail came out 8 lb 12 oz on a frosty Sunday morning in February. A little bit early, but not a little bit light. She came out with a wail much like her sister and we began the long dance between mother and child of learning to nurse. I chose to have her at the same hospital that I had quite by accident ended up birthing Zuzu at. The Lactation Consultants there are amazing. I spent more time with them after Zuzu’s arrival then with her pediatrician. I was aware how utterly consuming and complicated nursing could be due to multiple warnings from mommas that had gone before me. I was fortunate enough to push past society’s conventions and nurse through my pregnancy with the Quail. Lovey and I questioned the notion of doing this and whether or not we should be actively weaning Zuzu many, many times. This wasn’t a decision we took lightly. Of course you can’t know what’s to come while you are planning for it. Zuzu’s continued perseverence and need for connection and comfort is strong. She loved to nurse and rub my swollen belly during those months. And after the Quail came home she immediately sank into a routine of nursing and reaching for her sister’s small hand to hold while she let down the milk for her. It is truly the greatest gift I could hope to witness.
In the hospital, after the Quail’s arrival, before her official diagnosis, the LC came to work with us frequently. Since I had difficulty with Zuzu, I just assumed it was a similar difficulty of getting her to latch and once we worked through positioning we would be set to go. I was armed and ready to adjust her latch as needed to prevent the trauma to the neh-neh’s this time. I was queued to the art of baby language analysis and ready to respond to her neh cries. I had the LC’s number on speed dial and wasn’t afraid to use it. I was prepped for the pain of engorgement and had my little weekend warrior ready to nurse it to a comfortable fullness until the Quail could handle the supply on her own. I had my boppy, my Nursing Mother’s Companion, and my trusty Pump in Style Advanced. I was ready for Lovey to do the middle of the night feedings with a bottle and not afraid of nipple confusion. I had a couple sets of supplemental nursing systems and syringes ready in the event of a rough start. But you know what they say- every baby is different. Yes. The truest, purest, most inargueable statement. With all that preparation- both mental and practical, the Quail still had areas I hadn’t known to account for. Long before we received the Down syndrome diagnosis we received a hypotonia diagnosis.
Let me tell you what should have happened in a perfect world. In a perfect world, the pediatricians or lactation consultants that examined her- and there were a couple of each, should have explained hypotonia in lay terms and brought in their OT or SLP that is trained in oral-motor weakness to examine her and start either a referral to someone to work with us ongoing. They should have been weighing her after nursings to notice that she wasn’t pulling any colostrum out. But it’s normal for any baby to lose some weight after they are born and before the milk came in.
In hindsite I can say that should have been the plan. I guess, really, I wish that plan for mommas that come after me. In some respects there wasn’t an obvious problem. Except this. They did say hypotonia. The pediatrician’s that examined her couldn’t say definitely that she had Down syndrome until a karyotype could be completed. But the 3 things that led them to think she had Down syndrome were: 1. her hypotonia, 2. the difficulty she was exhibiting nursing 3. and the micro-expressions we would witness that bore some resemblance to classic portraits of a baby that has Down syndrome. The LC did print out an article about nursing a baby with Ds and the difficulties of it, an email address for a woman who she used to know that had nursed all of her children, including a baby that had Down syndrome a couple of decades ago and a vague suggestions to be sure to ask for an OT or SLP referral from my pediatrician. I went home thinking there might be problems ahead of us but not really understanding that indeed that was a definitive. Late in the afternoon, the day after we arrived, the LC had given a brief warning that if the baby wasn’t able to eat well then we would be extending our stay in the hospital but that it would be the pediatrician’s call when he examined her the next morning. We were given a stock of newborn bottle caps and extra syringes to work with. Fortunately I had a milk supply already established and my colostrum had already began the transformation. On that first day I was able to pump an ounce at a time and began the routine of pumping out what I could every three hours and trying to nurse the Quail according to a feeding plan that gave me a distinct sense of deja’ vu and a false sense of confidence.
It went like this:
1. Pump for 10-15 minutes to get the let down reflex activated and start to establish a good milk supply
2. Set up a ‘just in case” bottle
3. Undress the Quail down to a diaper and start to wake her.
4. Begin brief oral-motor stimulation exercises such as rubbing the inside and outside of her cheeks, gums and roof of her mouth for a minute or 2 to stimulate her suck-swallow-breathe reflex.
5. Bring her to the breast and attempt to nurse her for 5-10 minutes trying a variety of positions: cross-cradle, football, dancer’s hold
6. If at that point she has not successfully established a latch and began to draw out milk then move on to another method of feeding her so that she won’t be too worn down to eat.
7. The choices are SNS or syringe with your finger inside her mouth to elicit the sucking reflex.
8. Repeat process every 2-3 hours.
9. If she doesn’t root, cry for milk prior to 3-4 hours, wake her and initiate the process on your own.
10. Document the number of wet and poopy diapers daily to ensure she is getting enough nutrition. She should have 6-8 wet diapers and 1-3 poopies each day. If you are not able to get that many call your doctor.
There’s alot of guesswork in those first few days of determining wet-newborn- nappies. We did our best estimations and 48 hours after the Quail’s arrival the pediatrician was comfortable with our level of understanding and dedication to feeding the Quail and agreed to send us home. Other then a few new vocabulary words this was not unlike our experience with Zuzu’s entrance into the world.
It took a few weeks due to a computer upgrade and hospital documentation system changeover for us to get the results of the kareotype. Three weeks later after 4 follow up phone calls to the geneticist and our pediatrician’s office, Lovey and I were having dinner with his parents and we received an early evening phone call from our Pediatrician, Dr. Dean informing us that he finally received the Quail’s FISH analysis back and the good news was it was negative for Trisomy 13 and 18 but did show 50 out of 50 cells analyzed a f inding of Classic Trisomy 21. He started down a litany of expected medical concerns that may accompany the syndrome, hyperthyroidism, hearing and vision loss, the need for routine follow up with our newly established pediatric cardiologist for an early diagnosed small to moderate ventricular septal defect and possible pulmonary hypertension; potential delayed developmental milestones and the possiblity of mild to moderate cognitive functioning that can’t really be predicted this early on. Lovey and I sat on the phone quietly listening together and then I asked for a referral to Babynet to get started finding out what services would be available to guide us through the next 3 years. After we hung up, Lovey and I hugged and I did cry a few tears of anxiety. I tend to run towards the anxious side in general. Lovey went back out to the kitchen to his parents and I called mine who had recently returned to their home in the middle of the country. I distinctly remember a shift happening in my thought process earlier that afternoon as I waited for that phone call. I had been pressing the doctors to get a definitive diagnosis back to us and suddenly, probably about the same time the final fax was received in Dr. Dean’s office I saw the blessing of getting to know the Quail without a diagnosis attached to her. I had been able to spend a few hours actually grateful for not seeing her through the diagnostic light.
Babynet, our state’s Early Intervention service or Birth to Three provider; called back a few days later to schedule an intake, and a couple of weeks later Jodie came to meet us and the Quail. We told her of our main concern of how the first few weeks of feeding the Quail had gone and how we had not yet successfully established breastfeeding and when she drank from a bottle a fair bit dripped out the right side of her mouth. We related the struggle to get enough food in her the first couple of weeks. We had been spending approximately 45 minutes every 2-3 hours following the letter to the plan. Our saving grace was that the Quail was an excellent sleeper. So after she ate, whether it was due to her exhaustion from the nursing session, regular newborn sleepiness or the breastmilk jaundice she had for the first month, she always went back to sleep easily. When Zuzu was home her first week we had done a similar plan but she was mostly nursing and we were using the SNS for a couple of feedings with Lovey during the night so I could rest. During one call to the LC after the first week they pointed out that the SNS was really only for the first 5-7 day to get started. After that point the amount of milk needed with each feeding couldn’t be sustained with the SNS. It was about this point with the Quail as well that feedings were becoming too drawn out for us to continue our current plan. At the end of the first week she was staying latched on my breast and making a nursing motion long enough to look like a full feeding and acting contented mostly afterwards- well actually wiped out would be more accurate. After one day of just having her nurse she proceded to not poop for the next 36 hours. At that point I realized that although she was latching she wasn’t strong enough (the hypotonia at play) to draw the milk out. I panicked and got out my box of bottles from Zuzu’s early days. We started with a Dr. Browns which had previously been the bottle de’jour to coordinate with nursing. It was too difficult for her to get milk out of. After fumbling around briefly with a series of other bottles that were either too difficult or the milk leaked too eaily out of her mouth we settled on a Soothie. She still leaked milk but it was better then the alternatives. She gradually sped up her drinking in the next week and we were able to get 3-4 oz in about 20-40 minutes. I was still attempting to nurse but the frequency was dropping off as my success plummeted.
Jodie referred us to an agency that had a couple of SLPs who focused on feeding issues in newborns and they set us up to come in fairly quicky, still by this point we were 2 months into it. We met with the SLP and explained how long it was taking the Quail to drink, the milk leaking out while she did and the lack of success in nursing. She also by that time had begun throwing up frequently and in what looked like large amounts with almost every feeding. Both immediately after and throughout the following hours. Fortunately she wasn’t distressed or obviously pained by this. Unlike her sister who started reflux meds at 3 weeks due to her pained behavior, arching away from the bottle and tears (hers and mine) with each feeding.
The SLP’s first concern was if drinking from a bottle; which is easier then nursing, was causing the Quail any distress. It is common in babies that have heart conditions to have their oxygen saturation level drop while drinking as well as their respiration rate increase. We started each session with the Quail drinking her bottle while hooked up to an oxygen saturation machine. Fortunately for the Quail she didn’t have trouble with this. The heart condition made the SLP pretty nervous and she consulted with the cardiologist who reassured her that there was no trouble with the Quail learning to nurse. The other main concern with a lot of babies with heart conditions is their growth rate. And with the Quail throwing up so frequently as well this could have been a major factor. Fortunately her growth has always stayed consistently between the 25%- 50% average on the standard growth charts. For a baby that has Down syndrome and a heart condition and refluxing behavior, that is really phenomonal. We spent the next 3 months with every other week appointments with the SLP essentially doing the exact same thing. I would ask each week about learning to nurse and she felt we needed to get to the point where the Quail would clearly not need open heart surgery to repair her VSD before moving on to practicing that. I continued to ask and she continued to say the same thing. I finally asked outright for her to give me a list of exercises that would teach the Quail to nurse. She said that there weren’t any.
At that point we decided to take a break from the sessions for a couple of weeks and I started asking around to other mommies if they had suggestions for ways to help us learn how to nurse. More to come on that and how we spent the last 3 months to come later this week.
Right now I have to go put up the night’s pumped milk, lay the baby down to bed and nurse the toddler. And I feel so very blessed to be able to do just that.
Momma Monday- Holiday Highlights Week
One of the reasons I love Autumn so much is there is just so darn much celebrating to be done. From first days of school, to end of summer Labor Day celebrations, to football games and tailgates, to the cooling off of our lovely planet and draping of Mother Nature in her colorful shawl, apple and pumpkin picking, to the more traditional festivities of Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s and a few birthdays sprinkled in for good measure. I’ve always enjoyed the Holiday’s with a kid-like enthusiasm housed in my grown-up body even before having kids of my very own. And now, the joy felt around this little House of Two Gables is unparelleled. Zuzu is heard on a fairly daily basis proclaiming the likes of, “Guess what Momma, tomorrow is Trash Day! Yay!!!!!!”” or “The Quail just grabbed her toy! Good Job Quail!” or “It’s Saturday!!!! ” and my personal favorite, “Next is Brooke’s birthday, and then my birthday and then your birthday!” Now that the season of 1000 festivities is upon us I can only imagine the the upcoming smiles and good cheer to come!
Since I am quite focused on documenting these joy’s with far too many photographs, we will most likely dedicate the week following each festivity and celebration with a week of our best captured memories. You will notice a new category labeled Holiday Fun where you can catch a summary of our seasonal delight.
Halloween was a funfilled week here. In continuing with Zuzu’s favorite Superhero theme from her Birthday party earlier in the month she was quite insistent on a WordGirl costume and her baby sister joining her as her faithful sidekick- Captain HuggyFace. Thursday night was our town’s Downtown Trick or Treat party, friday was the girl’s school’s Halloween party and saturday rounded out the Halloween fun with trick-or-treating with our good friend’s Tinkerbelle, The Fireman and Captain America.
May you all find the joy in everyday celebrations in your own lives. There is nothing finer.



















