“Mommy, can I ask you a question?” I could tell this was not going to be a simple yes or no question. I was packing her lunch, feeding her breakfast, and giving the baby a bottle. It wasn’t a great time for a heart-to-heart but I saw the thoughtful look in her eye and knew I couldn’t refuse. Kindergarten would have to wait just a few minutes.
“Of course, sweetie. What is it?”
“Is Down syndrome a sickness? Is it good or bad? Will he always have it? If the doctors can fix his heart, why can’t they fix the Down syndrome too?” And she kept going. Her questions seemed endless.
It had been almost a year since our sweet Joey joined the family, sporting an extra chromosome in every cell of his body. However, the diagnosis of Down syndrome didn’t come until he was almost 4 months old. I wish I could say I took it in a stride, but honestly it pulled the rug out from under me. Never — not for one minute — did I doubt my love for my child. But at that time, the future suddenly seemed scary, full of unknowns and struggles.
In those early days, I had so many questions and so few answers.