Introducing ... Down Syndrome!

                                                                                 
Before we set off on this journey through international adoption, it would be odd to not mention Down Syndrome.

I have a cousin with Down Syndrome.  My only childhood memory of her involves one rascally moment when, after locking me in Grandpa's spare bedroom, my pleas for mercy were met with gales of laughter.  Patty was a "jokester!" Otherwise, my entire life had not been touched by one who carried that exra-special chromosome.  Indeed, I lived in a sheltered world where all babies are born perfect and beautiful.

Until November 12, 2003, when I gave birth to Gillian Faith McCracken who was born even better:  Perfect, beautiful, and SPECIAL.

 

I could sense that she was different, as if she'd been born amidst a cloud of fairy dust.  And there was an iota of familiarity about her ... something in the set of her chin, her peaceful, dreamy gaze, her perfectly-chistled little ears.   "Does she have Down Syndrome??!!" I inquired of my nurse while still in the hospital.  "Oh, no!" I was reassured.  "She's perfect."  Immediately upon discharge, I snuck out my medical dictionary and frantically read for clues as to diagnosing Down Syndrome ... just in case.   Yet for four months, despite visits to neonatal specialists for "sleepy baby" syndrome and tracheamalasia, she defied and eluded every opportunity for diagnosis.  Her "special something" attracted people to her like a sugar-laden magnet: That cute thing she'd do with her tongue ... her doll-like petiteness ... her ever-sweet disposition ...

 When Gillian turned four months old, her doctor "got it."  "Have you ever considered that your daughter might have Down Syndrome?" she asked, avoiding eye contact.  The karyotype confirmed what we'd always somehow known:  Gillian really was special.  In a panic, I wished I could freeze-frame her just the way she was at that moment, to shelter her from life's inequities, schoolyard bullies, discomforts, disappointments.  I was terrifed for her future.



 
The months have folded into years (8, to be precise), in which we passed through phases and years of heart issues, aspiration with thin liquids, endless hours of therapies and play groups, batteries of failed hearing tests, an appreciable mountain of broken glasses ... then into IEPs, preschool, kindergarten (twice!), first grade, ballet lessons, t-ball, swimming lessons, second grade ....

These days I often forget she has a "label."  She is our little girl, first and foremost, and everything else is an aside.  She is fiercely determined, giggly, silly, talented, funny, rascally, loving. Yes, a "jokester" even.  I am filled with pride for inner beauty and strength, tenacity, friendships, accomplishments -- big and small.

It is with equal pride, mountains of love, and immense excitement that we prepare our family for the arrival of Ms. Melody, who hails from across the ocean in a country that does not honor her life or her gifts she brings to the world.  We can't get her home soon enough.

         "Little Miss Melody"