Four years ago when Abigail was born, I looked into her blue eyes and realized she had Down syndrome. It took three days before the doctors and nurses realized she might have it and another week before we got the test results back. But I knew right away. A mama always knows.
I’m really glad I didn’t know until after she was born. Before I had Abigail, I would have thought Down syndrome was tantamount to a death sentence. I would have laid in bed at night, staring at the ceiling and felt disgusted at the burden growing inside of me. 90% of people would have just flat-out ended the pregnancy. I would have thought all the stereotypes would become my reality. It would have been all “Me vs. The Baby.” My pregnancy would have been defined by tragedy and pain.
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