...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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Friday, October 16, 2009

More Weirdness

A few nights ago I woke up in the middle of the night with a wicked compulsion to pack my bag and the baby's bag. So I did. So far, it turns out to have meant nothing.

Last night I dreamed that I was anxiously waiting for some big event at a very elaborate theater with a huge stage all draped in burgundy velvet curtains. The inside of the building was extremely ornate with tons of carved rich wood. The curtain went and something very special began. I have no idea what, but the feeling was there. The orchestra was set up on the stage and some youngish people with Ds were performing a beautiful wind and string ensemble. They were there to honor members of the audience, all of them children with Ds, but my "group" of youngsters had not yet arrived. Finally, midway through the first performance, a few women were leading a large group of well behaved, Sunday-best dressed, spit shined, sparkling toddlers to their seats. To their parents! And one woman was carrying an infant carrier. He was finally here in he building with me! I ran to see him. And yes, I SAW HIS FACE! He was beautiful. He was also about 6 months old! I had a million questions, but his guardian up until this point had suddenly disappeared. Where was she? I had questions! He was olive skinned like My Girlie, not peaches and cream like The Middle. He had chubby pink cheeks and an oval face, with some wispy soft brown baby hair. His eyes were olive green like The Oldest's were at birth. He was my baby. My son. Finally here. So what does it mean? I'm chalking it up to the unknown on the as yet mystery date of his arrival and the anticipation of waiting. Of course, the elaborate setting would be the birth event. And along side my lust for head banging rock music, I have a passion for classical as well, especially winds and strings. As I saw him finally, everything else faded away...just the music and my beautiful boy remained. In this dream the musicians on stage were others who came before, to herald this new little life into being. Angels? Maybe. A celebration?
Certainly! The happy ending...

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