Art of the Divine Feminine

Posts made in April, 2012

Support Groups – Hah!

Posted by on Apr 11, 2012 in Down Syndrome Mother | 0 comments

Eric goes to preschool. The day a year and a half ago that he first got on his bus, the short bus, I cried. He was my baby, my youngest. He was barely three and I had carried him his entire life. I breastfed that kid for over two years. We were inseparable. I knew everything about him. I signed to him, played with him, did therapy with him. I spent my days for three years trying to make him more. More appealing, more communicative, more healthy. Just... more.

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Saving The World

Posted by on Apr 11, 2012 in Down Syndrome Mother | 0 comments

When Eric was born I used to talk to him all the time. I coined the term “heart-talk” and we’d have long conversations in my head and in my heart. He would tell me things about his world and tell me not to worry about him, that he’d be okay. He was very very small and wasn’t thriving well for a long time but this tiny boy would stare solemnly into my eyes and tell me, through this “heart-talk”, not to worry.

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Outside The Box

Posted by on Apr 11, 2012 in Down Syndrome Mother | 0 comments

Eric goes to a special-needs preschool four mornings a week. Other than some cryptic hastily-scrawled daily notes on what he did that day (story: check; snack: check), I have no idea what goes on there. I figure that’s between Eric and the school. They seem willing, thrilled even, to take my son for fourteen hours a week.

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The Club

Posted by on Apr 11, 2012 in Down Syndrome Mother | 0 comments

Having a kid with special needs automatically grants you membership in a certain club. Out in public, parents in this club meet eyes over the heads of their children, allowing a glimmer of understanding to pass between them. “I know,” that look says, “You’re not alone.”

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The Death Card

Posted by on Apr 11, 2012 in Down Syndrome Mother | 0 comments

Every parent plays this game. I did, and not just with Eric. I call it Baby Monitor. You know that game? You lie awake with your ear glued intently to the monitor; your baby is in the next room, or downstairs. You’re listening for the regular noises you’re used to hearing, the sounds of breathing. When the sounds grow faint, you could go down and check but instead you play macabre mind games: what if he’s not breathing?

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