Obvious Physical Differences

I think about Patrice.

We kept our horse one summer in Texas at the facility she managed. She had a southern accent. So friendly. And you always knew her opinion. She was not afraid to share it. Always in a soft way. Never brash, never thoughtless. Just out there at all times.

She said repeatedly we should have more kids because she couldn’t get over how beautiful our daughter was. I can hear still her, “My God, you make such beautiful babies! Why don’t you have more?”

At the time, I didn’t want more kids. I was always annoyed at people making comments about us having more kids. It was none of their business! I think I did tell someone at some point to never ask me that again.

Andi was four years old. She was in such a fun place. She didn’t have a lot of terrible two or three moments. Potty training was a breeze. We could travel fairly easily. We didn’t worry about naps or diapers. I don’t know, I guess I was content with one child.

Selfish me.

I was afraid of having another child because it would be hard.

Selfish me.

But she started wanting to play with other kids. And I knew in my heart we needed to try for another baby. We both knew we wanted her to have a sibling, just didn't want to go through the effort of growing and raising another.

But I put it off for two more years.

Cooper came. Patrice and her adoration of our beautiful girl rang in my ears. It was one of my first terrifying thoughts after knowing Cooper came with an extra chromosome and understanding that meant obvious physical differences. Would she think my son is beautiful, too? Or would she say sorry. Sorry you got a baby that isn’t as beautiful as your first. Would she judge him like the rest of the world?

.......................

When Cooper was just a few months old, Andi sat in his room with me while I fed him. We sat in silence for a moment, staring at him together. Andi said, "It's too bad about the Down syndrome."

My stomach dropped and my heart ached, because I knew where she got it from. She had likely picked up that message from hearing me talk about Down syndrome as I tried to understand what it meant for our family.

But my warrior mom came out inside, too. The one who would shut down anyone who tried to belittle my son for being different. I want her to have the same warrior inside as she goes through life, being able to defend and shut out the noise of people who are too ignorant and too thoughtless to see worth in Cooper.

She was staring at him. I could see how much she loved him even after knowing him just a little while.

"How many eyes does Cooper have?" I asked her.

"Two," she responded.

"And how many eyes do you have?"

"Two."

"What about his nose? Does he have two noses?"

"No! He has one."

"Yes, and how many noses do you have, bud?"

"I have one, too."

We looked him over, counting his ears, fingers, toes, arms, legs. Seeing that on the outside he is the same as everybody else.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with your brother," I said. "He has Down syndrome, but that doesn't mean he needs to be treated different. We just need to love him."

She nodded in agreement. It was a tender moment, one that I'll always treasure.

I've immersed myself into the world of Down syndrome so heavily that now, people without Down syndrome seem to be missing something. You can look up a list of physical differences that people with Down syndrome have if you want to. They vary widely so I won't list them here. For Cooper, his differences weren't immediately obvious at birth. They've grown along with him. His eyes are the distinct, almond shape. He is shorter and smaller, both in height and weight and in his arms and legs. His mouth turns downward slightly. Both of his feet have a toe gap (sandal gap), one Simean line (single crease) on his left palm, and pinkys and index fingers that curve inward slightly.

I’ll never know what Patrice thinks about my son, not that it matters anyway. Not that it matters what any one person thinks.

I've come to realize over the last year that my son is not a mistake. There are many, many things I don't understand and I'm still trying to figure out as his mother. But I know he is made how he was supposed to be made. Because we all are made the way we're supposed to be made.

If you see different, embrace different. You may have a shortage of knowledge on differences like I do. I am learning every day. But none of us can ever show too much love.