Here we are, 10mo. later…

I didn’t originally want another baby. I was satisfied with just Evan and content enough to raise just him. However, my husband (sneaky bastard who knows me so well), appealed to the younger me who dreamed of a large family — similar to the one she grew up in.

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We tried one time, a random day on my ovulation cycle, exactly 2 weeks off the pill. When we woke up the next morning, we second-guessed that decision and said:                    “maybe we should wait” | “maybe we’re not ready” | “maybe in another year”

But guess what?

You don’t get to choose.

I knew instantly I was pregnant with Logan (which is probably why I felt like it was the longest 9mo. ever). The vomiting began just 2 weeks into gestation, and it would never stop. I’m not saying I gagged a little in the mornings, had a bit of nausea, or threw up a bit of stomach acid.

No, my friend. I. THREW. UP. All the time. ALL THE TIME.

It’s called hyperemesis gravidarum, which translated online means “severe vomiting”. Severe vomiting?! During my first trimester, I lost 30 pounds and was seen in the ER 12 times for severe dehydration. I couldn’t even hold down water. Add to that my loose bladder from Evan’s pregnancy, resulting in tons of amounts of pee coming involuntarily out, therefore making me smell homeless. Real attractive pregnancy glow [cue sarcasm].

I couldn’t leave the house without vomiting and pissing everywhere. On myself, down my pants, in the car, in the chairs I sat on, in the beds I laid in, in the stores I went to. EVERYWHERE. I felt disgusted with myself and spent most of the day at home changing my clothes, vomiting, and crying myself into hysterics.

I want to say it got better, but it didn’t. -_-

They gave me my first ultrasound at week 20, 5 weeks behind schedule. At the initial ultrasound, I was advised that something didn’t quite look right, in a very nonchalant, this is of no importance kind of manner, and that there were some images which the doctor felt might reflect Down Syndrome. They referred me to further testing, but otherwise, I was shrugged off and no other information was given.

At week 22 sequential blood work through the Harmony Blood Testing exam revealed a possible positive marker of Trisomy 21 for our little Logan. They would like me to come in to discuss our chances and other options for testing.

But, our little Logan, who already had a name, who already had a brother waiting for him, and with which whom I had already fallen hopelessly in love — might be, what? defective? No one had even told me what Trisomy21 was, nor did they even bother to explain it.

Google became my friend.

Shortly afterward, we opted for the amniocentesis, and I have to say — as a mom who has birthed naturally twice using an epidural… nothing compares to the pain of that needle piercing through the skin, then the abdomen, then the uterus, then the placenta. You feel, each. and. every. puncture.

And when you have a hyperactive fetus (like Logan), you get to ride that ride twice.

Fun times.  😉

Not.

In less than 2 weeks we got a call from Dr. Q at Maternal Fetal Medicine, that he would like to see me. Today. Within the next hour if possible. At that moment, I felt my heart sink. We were seen immediately upon arriving at the office and given another full work up ultrasound. Shortly after we were given the results, and asked very nicely about whether we had thought of how we wanted to proceed with the pregnancy?

I was so confused in this moment, as termination was never an option, no matter the results of the amnio. Hearing the doctor voice this question aloud, gave me uncertainty for one moment. One. Split. Moment. that I thought I was not meant to have this baby.

But I loved him. I loved him so much already, and I had faith that the universe knows why it does what it does. What’s meant to happen will happen. Have faith in your destiny. All that other horse shit.

So of course, we were confident in our choice to keep Logan, and raise him just like the other savages kids being raised in our house. Dr. Q was nothing short of magical as he followed our case. Through him we found the initial strength we needed, to know that our baby was going to be ok. And he was the most perfect thing we would ever lay our eyes on.

“The world needs more parents like you”

-Dr. Q

And now 10mo. after being with Logan I am ashamed at that feeling of overwhelming loss I had at the moment they told us we had a positive diagnosis. After all, an amnio has a 99.2%. accuracy rate. At that moment I just felt loss, for the life I had begun to envision with my two boys, which now seemed to be so unclear, so tumultuous, and so uncertain.

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I’ve never met an individual with Down Syndrome, and now I was about to be the mother of one. To say I was sadly unprepared is an understatement. But now? Now the only thing I know is that Logan is the biggest blessing we have ever received, and the universe truly does know what you need when you need it.

I spent the remainder of my pregnancy fighting all kinds of emotions as I processed an immense amount of information, and struggled with daily anxieties and fears… all while being unmedicated for the first time in 15 years. To say that my Bipolar Mind had reared her ugly head is the understatement of all these understatements. So, the Support System stepped in, and 2 weeks before giving birth to Logan, I moved back home with mom and dad. Half my stuff in one place, half my stuff in another. But it was the best decision I made. Not only for my own mental health and sanity but for the health of my children and family as well.

Now? Now Logan is 10 months, and in just two shorts months, he’ll turn 1. I don’t even know where the last ten months have gone as I have been through some crazy moments. I’ve lost my mind and my cool on more than one occasion, and there have been some hella crazy times. But motherhood is quite possibly the scariest hood I have ever been through. And I’ve seen some {bat shit} crazy stuff in my day.

At 10mo. my little wolverine has made huge leaps in overcoming any obstacles put before him. His “delay” is considered within “normal” (someone please define normal for me) limits and considered on par for someone who does not even have a disability.

He does have a delay in his fine and gross motor movements, so we go to physical and occupational therapy 3x a week, for 30 minutes each. We call it our “gym time”. We have upcoming therapy evaluations for speech and feeding, in hopes that we can get in front of the delay, rather than behind it.

I’ve learned so much from Logan over the past ten months. So much on motherhood, life, perspective, outlook, and love. I’ve learned to be quieter (which if you know me, is a difficult feat in and of itself), I’ve learned to be more patient and open-minded. I’ve learned compassion and strength. And I’ve learned, ultimately, that moms really can do it all, and then some!

♥JessG.

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