Pride - 31 for 21

There are so many thoughts that run through your head when you first learn that your child has Down syndrome.

I felt so alone.  I couldn't help but think of all the people having babies that were all typical.  All normal.  It was so unfair.  "Why did this have to happen to me?" I silently wailed. 

One of my biggest stresses was deciding how to introduce her to the world.  I was so embarrassed for everyone to see how I had failed.  I was ashamed to show off a baby with "defects."

I didn't announce or post about her birth right away at all.  I told my mom and sister a few hours after Cora was born, but told them not to tell anyone outside the immediate family.  I needed to feel that I was ready.  I didn't post photos on Facebook or send out an announcement e-mail.  I sat in my bed, in a daze.  Exhausted. In shock.  I felt that it was both the happiest and saddest day of my life.

A few days after she was born and we'd been dealing with the stresses of life in the NICU, I was ready to announce her arrival to my friends and family.  I asked my family to start telling people, knowing that the word would spread.  We sent out a message to friends and family, introducing Cora, explaining her diagnosis, heart defect and NICU stay, and told the world how much we loved her.  And we did.

Later, I posted pictures on Facebook to rave reviews.  At one month old, I posted my very first blog post on Our Cora Bean.

But still I worried about what the rest of the world would think.  Would they look at our girl and know?  Would they pity us?  I remember taking her on her first real outing to get bagels.  She was in her carrier, draped with a cotton blanket to try and keep the worst germs at bay.  It was her debut, in a sense.  I can't say that I didn't still feel a little lingering worry, but on that day as I took out my tiny girl, I felt pride.

I was a proud new mom, finally able to take my new daughter out into the world (not just to the hospital or the doctor.)

As time passed and I grew to know her and love her more each day, that pride grew.  I would push her around in her stroller and smile a proud mama's smile.  People would praise her, of course.  I was the mother to the most beautiful girl in the world.

I still am.  And if anything, my pride just continues to grow.  Instead of wondering if people can tell that she has DS, I pretty much assume that people know.  But instead of being nervous about it, I just think that everyone should be so lucky.  Everyone should know this kind of love.  Everyone should be as blessed as I am.

Every once in a while, I do catch some lingering looks, a few pointed stares, and quite a bit of people who just look away.  And less often than that, I find myself wondering what people are thinking, wondering if they are pitying us.  Sometimes it stings a little, but not for very long.

Really, I am just trying to love my girl in the best way I can, and to let the world see her and see my love.

When others see how proud I am, they must know that I have something to be proud about.

Because, really, I do.