...And in the air, the fireflies, our only light in paradise. We'll show the world that they were wrong, and teach them all to sing along; singing Amen I, I'm alive. Amen I, I'm alive...

- Nickelback, If Everyone Cared

For All The Right Reasons Album

And I'm singing Aaa-ayyy-men, I'm alive!

William Leonidas November 12th, 2009
My only regret is that I cried so many tears while I waited for you.

"...I'll try ~ but it's so hard to believe. I'll try ~ but I can't see what you see. I'll try and try to understand the distance between the love I feel ~ the thing I fear ~ and every single dream. I can finally see it. Now I have to believe all those precious stories. All the world is made of faith ~ and trust ~ and pixie dust. So I'll try ~ because I finally believe. I'll try ~ because I can see what you see. I'll try, I'll try ~ to fly..."

Jonatha Brooke "I'll try"

Fear thou not, for I am with thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy God; I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. Isaiah 41:10

Now the word of the Lord came to me saying, "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you..." Jeremiah 1:4-5

For Thou didst form my inward parts; Thou didst weave me in my mother's womb. I will give thanks to Thee for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are Thy works, and my soul knows it very well. Psalms 139:13-14

Monday March 5th, 2010

So Why Stinkerie?

It's simple, really. It's the first thing I whispered against my newborn little Dumpling's temple as I held him alone for that very first time. "There's my Little Stinkerie." And all was right with the world as I brushed my lips across his delicate dewy soft newborn-pink skin and sniffed at his sparse smattering of downy soft hair. Corny and sappy, huh? I can't help it when describing my new Little Puppy. But don't get used to it - I have been told I am "irreverent."

Anyway, it just came out and he's been Stinkerie ever since. As well as Stink Pie, Stink Pot, Stinkey Pete, Little Stinks, Stinks, Puppy, Ducky, Baby, Baby Head, Baby Head Jenkins, Jack, Jack-Jack, Jackie Boy, Jax, Snork, Snorkis, Snorkle, Billy Boy, Billy Bob, Bobby Sue, Billy-Joe-Jim-Bob, Will, Willie, Willister, and the name given by my mentor turned friend Beth - Snake. When I write to her I call him either The Snakester or Slither! And of course, Dumpling, because he is my Little Dumpling - warm and soft and comforting. It's alright to combine comfort food with baby names, right? Have you ever watched the movie Where the Heart Is? If you have, you'll know why I mention this in my defense!

Long story short, you're likely to encounter any one or more of these names in a single post. Because I can. It's my blog!

Something to Consider

Bad decisions make good stories.

Something to Think About

With any pregnancy, there are concerns. With any child, there are worries. When you have a diagnosis of Down syndrome, you know what to worry about. You know what to look for. You have a plan of action. With your typical child, there is no limit to the things that can 'go wrong' or 'happen.' There's no place to focus your worry and concerns. 'IT' will always be out there, waiting. You'll always be on guard. Even when the child is 55 and has grandchildren. With Down syndrome we have a battle plan. With Down syndrome, there is a finite number of things that can go awry. With a typical child, there's isn't. It's a crap shoot. I'm sticking with the Ds and taking the other two back to the hospital for a refund.

Head Above Water

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Monday, June 15, 2009


Today was a scary day, but it all went well. It was scary because there is always a risk with surgery. There is a risk specifically of losing The Baby. But, there was a guarantee of losing The Baby if I didn't have the stitch placed. And there is always a risk of rupturing the membranes. I was scared. We arrived at the hopspittle at 5:30 and then waited until 6 for OPS to actually open. Why they said to be there 30 minutes before they opened is beyond me. I got a gown. I stuffed my clothes into a bag. I got on the gurney. I was wrapped in a warming blanket. I got an IV. No less than 3 people reviewed my history. I saw the anesthesiologist, Dr P. He ordered something nasty tasting that made me groggy and I went to sleep. My case was scheduled for 7:00 am. The OR nurse woke me up when the lovely Dr RF finally said he was ready at 8:15. And I was rolled down to OR.

Let me say that Dr P rocks! He did my cesarean with The Youngest after my anesthesiology with The Oldest was botched. I was glad I was able to have him for this. It was a good sign. After pushing 100 mg of Diprivan, I was still able to carry on a conversation with him. So he gave me more. "A little sleepy," I reported. So he waited a few minutes and gave me more. "Okay," I say, "Here I go!" And I woke up in recovery. My nurse there wasn't nice, but she did give me pain meds. She did not want to give me narcotics, but the wonderful Dr P told me what I could have before I went to OR...and really, it was 1 mg for crying out loud!

There was quite a delay while several nurses tried to find the Baby's heartbeat with a pencil Doppler. No luck. They tried and tried. They could hear movement, and they thought the Baby kept bumping the Doppler, and they could see my tummy jiggle with the kicks, but they had no luck finding the heart rate. Finally someone produced a regular hand held Doppler and they let me hunt for it. (This was reminiscent of The Youngest. I found his heart beat after stitch surgery too! Again, a good sign.) I caught it for a few seconds at a time, but never long enough to hand over the ear pieces. Finally after the one nurse cupped my tummy in both hands, the other nurse was able to catch it long enough to measure it...151! "Is this baby always so active?" they ask. "Yes" I say. "And the Baby got anesthesia too." They exchange knowing looks across my exposed tummy. "How far along are you? 20 weeks?" one nurse asks. "No," I say, "15 weeks, one day." Again with the knowing looks to each other. "Well," one nurse says, "This one's going to give you a run for your money!" After that I was allowed to get dressed to go home. And get a jumbo Slurpee for my horribly sore throat!

The rest of the day saw plenty of napping, movie watching and pampering from The Beloved. Grandma Emmie stopped by and had snacks with us then dashed out to see The Fireball get his award. The Other Mommy took my camera to photo document said Fireball receiving said award. The Beloved drove all the way to the next town to Sonic to get me a jumbo grape slushie for my still very horribly sore throat. And a Sonic dog for our pitty-bull Sophie! One hurdle down, two to go!

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