I have been working at the school for a few weeks now, filling in for an aide who took some personal time off. There is speculation on whether or not she'll be coming back, and why she was out. Some seem to know more than others, but few seem to know much. The secretary told me that most likely she won't be coming back this school year, and I could work all the days that I wanted.
The lady for whom I'm subbing was at the office today. As she was leaving, another aide nearly ran out the door to catch her, declaring that "she has the baby!" (Turns out, the lady I'm subbing for is fostering a baby. That's why she's been off work.) She then turned to me (after catching the lady trying to go home) and said, "did you see what she had?"
Um, a baby? In a car seat?
After pulling back the blankets, we all cooed at the wee boy. I'm not a baby person. At all. I'm just not. I loved my own babies, but other people's babies, while fun to look at for a few minutes, hold little fascination for me. But this boy nearly brought me to tears. He had Down syndrome. Memories all flooded back. Emotions came to the forefront. Flashbacks. Heart tugs. All of it. And I fell in love with that boy.
It's funny how 12 years can be erased in a millisecond. Twelve years. That's how long it's been since I was introduced to my own boy with Down syndrome. I had no idea what life would be like 12 years into the future. I had no idea what life would be like a day into the future. I had no idea what any future looked like, but I knew that we'd figure it out because loved that baby so very hard. And I realized today that if I had the chance to do it all over again, and make a choice on whether we had a typically developing child or a child with Downy syndrome, I'd choose the disability, hands down.
The last 12 years have most certainly not been anything remotely close to what we were expecting when we planned our 4th child. Instead, they've been so much better.
Happy 12th birthday, Micah. We love you so much more than we'll ever be able to express.