Define Chaos

Yesterday Atticus and I took the long way home from school to listen to music and feel adventurous. The kid adores the car and music, so it was really a win-win. I've been listening to a lot of Milo Greene lately, namely this song:  and this one: We were contemplative and taking in the scenery of West Houston. I know, most of you are wondering what scenery I'm talking about, and I haven't painted a very positive picture of this part of town over the past few months, but I grew up around here and I know where to find beauty. There are trees and trails and well-kept yards that make some of the nearby neighborhoods a blast to drive through. Plus Atticus got a kick out of the many, many school buses we saw en route. That kid loves anything with wheels. And then, as I was thinking this exact phrase, "Wagon Wheel" by Old Crow Medicine Show miraculously started playing on the iPod. I say miraculously because I had it set for Milo Greene, so how it switched gea

Sleep. Oh, how I took sleep for granted. I’m so physically and emotionally drained by 9pm that I can barely keep my eyes open. But 2am always arrives and I jolt awake like clockwork. What seems so much clearer in the daylight hours, all my research, all the reassurances I can give to my fully conscious mind about the future of my child and my family become groggy and clouded in the wee hours of the morning. My hopes that my joy in this pregnancy and the excited expectations for Quinn will be restored are dashed by the darkness and the silence. And my already frantic inner dialogue does nothing to quell my fears, especially when I’m left alone with my thoughts and there’s nothing to distract me. I am terrified. I’ve learned a lot of great facts about kids with Down syndrome…they are sweet and more like typical kids than they are different. The Ds community has taken huge strides toward achieving a better quality of life in the past decade, and Quinn has a greater chance of atten

I have a feeling that this blog will see a lot more action in the coming weeks, as writing is so incredibly therapeutic for me. The past few days have been a roller coaster of emotions in which Brian and I will go from sobbing uncontrollably to suddenly reaching a moment of acceptance and back again. I assume this will be the norm for us as the weeks progress. Yesterday I found a box of baby toys in Atticus’ closet that had not been unpacked from the move. As I lifted the cardboard flap, I was overwhelmed with the most soul-crushing sadness I have ever felt. You see, the two years following Atticus’ birth were the happiest of my life, and seeing those toys transported me back to our humble Austin home with the big backyard and owl-themed nursery, where we were surrounded by friends who were always just a phone call away. It left me with a feeling of homesickness and a worry that I would never be that happy again. So I cried in mourning for the life I knew, until Atticus looked

I knew I was pregnant the moment I conceived. Call it a woman’s intuition or a case of mother-knows-best, but I knew. As the weeks went on and I could finally take a pregnancy test and receive reliable results, Brian and I stared at the giant plus sign and I said, “I told you so.” As things progressed, I also knew I was having another boy. Friends and family members would wink and say, “oooh, what if it’s a girl this time?” And I would smile and nod and join in the what-ifs, but I always knew deep down that Atticus would be getting a little brother. And when our doctor confirmed this at 16 weeks, I just shrugged at my own intuitive nature. So when I got the news today about our son, I was shocked that I didn’t already know…. It all started at our 20-week ultrasound. It’s supposed to be a fun glimpse at the life growing inside, a check of basic anatomy, and a reassurance that all is well. For most moms it is. Our doctor found that our little guy had slightly dilated kidneys

Pregnancy is one of those rare moments when your body is not your own, and everyone expects you to be ok with it. And only a pretty marginal section of the population can truly understand what I’m talking about. Not only am I playing host to a growing human being who, much like a [very cute] parasite, is making himself cozy and freeloading on my resources, but people also want to tell me exactly what I need to do for the well-being of the baby (though they are wise enough to disguise this a genuine care for me as well). I really don’t mind these things and find them comical most of the time. But as any pregnant woman in the modern age is well aware, there’s entirely too much paranoia surrounding what’s actually the most normal thing in the world.  Women have been giving birth since the beginning of time. Obviously. But visit any message board on babycenter.com or pregnanyinfo.net and it’s full of crazy-ass women telling other, more suspecting women what terrible people they ar