Please welcome Angela....she may or may not remember me contacting me through a friend when her son Benjamin was born...but she was in my prayers for more years than she probably even knew...I have gotten to know her in actuality over the last few months...and she is a joy. Her blog is so much fun, please do check it out...and I am thrilled to introduce her to you:
"Tiffany asked me a couple of weeks ago to write a post for her blog. It's been awhile since I've blogged, so I figured it was a good motivator. I am rarely short of words, and I enjoy writing.
But this one has been rather difficult.
I have literally cleared my screen four times and started over.
I suppose it appropriate to be sitting here, trying to compose the words, stuck.
That's how I feel in my life right now: stuck.
I just deleted over a page of typing because it was a bunch of whining.
My middle son, Benjamin, has Down Syndrome. He is 2 and 1/2.
And I am still not okay with it. I struggle with it almost everyday.
I obviously love him very, very much. It is a fierce, protective love that is different than the love I feel for my other sons.
But the Down Syndrome thing is harder now than it was in the beginning. I know I am not alone, but I know that I am in the minority. Most parents are a lot more accepting this late in the "game". They have moved on past the shock and grief stages.
It still hits me like a slap in the face sometimes. And I can't escape it. My son has Down Syndrome. Down Syndrome. Down Syndrome.
Like a broken record that plays over and over in my head, it hits me in different ways almost every day.
When I see my four-year-old son playing in the yard by himself, talking up a storm to the air because his younger brothers are too young to play with him. Benjamin would be old enough to play with him if he didn't have Down Syndrome.
When I am spoon feeding two boys at each meal. Benjamin would be using his own spoon if he didn't have Down Syndrome.
When I watch with a knot in my stomach as my husband struggles hard to give Benjamin a breathing treatment as Benjamin cries and screams and flails. If Benjamin didn't have Down Syndrome, at 2.5, you would be able to explain to him what you are doing and he would understand
When I only take two boys to a kid's birthday party and leave one at my parents' house house. If Benjamin didn't have Down Syndrome, he would enjoy parties and theme parks and movies and swimming pools at his age. He wouldn't still be so much of a baby.
When my friends' children and my own nephew who are all younger than Benjamin can talk and communicate with their parents and their siblings. Ouch. Still waiting for our first words, and we only have two or three signs. There's very little communication.
I realize how most of you will take this: That I'm ungrateful and that I need to realize that it could be worse. (It could.) That Benjamin is a precious gift. (He is.) That this was not an accident. (IT wasn't.)
I'm just struggling. Please don't judge me. Please don't tell me (even in your mind) that I need to get over it already. Just accept me for who I am, where I am.
A mom who loves her son very much but who is human and confused and disappointed.
I'm just stuck."