Disappointment Bug

Eslea is beautiful. I adore her. I am blessed to be her mother and I would never (never, never, never) trade her for any other child in this entire world.
Yet, when something that seems so small occurs, it can shake my world. Ever so briefly, but it does.
As of today, Eslea still is not sitting unsupported.
I know, some of you may be wondering why that matters so much.
It matters to me.
For the most part I try not to think about it as I help her balance as we go through our physical therapy exercises. Day after day. All the time I'm thinking that today might just be the day she finally gets it.
Sometimes we are close. She is sitting for almost a minute at a time. But when she reaches for a toy or sees something that excites her she becomes distracted and topples over.
I know, some of you will say to give her time.
In my head, I know this. I know that it is not from lack of effort on her part or lack of determination on mine.
Yet, placed on my refrigerator with a green magnet reminding me to recycle, is a chart. A chart that shows the ranges of basic skills for children, both "typical" children and those with Down syndrome. According to this chart, "typical" children begin sitting between six and nine months. Eslea will be eight months Saturday.
I know, some of you will say that even "typical" children can vary so vastly in their developmental milestones.
As her mom, it's hard. It's challenging to watch her very petite and chubby little arms try so hard to reach the ground to stable herself yet she falls just ever so short. Because she can not reach, she props them on her plump little legs and eventually…they slip as a laughing little bundle of joy falls sideways to the floor.
She keeps on trying that little girl of mine…over and over and over again. I’m aware that her challenge for sitting is the same thing that makes her adorable, those tiny arms.
{Sigh}

Mothers who have been here before, how do I get past this? What am I missing? I enjoy the time I have with her while we perform these exercises under the guise of playtime. I just so wish to totally enjoy her smiles and giggles instead of always having the minuscule disappointment bug creep up into my head after playtime is over and the end result is still a baby that does not sit alone.
Darn little disappointment bug. I so wish they made raid that was safe for your brain.
{Again…Sigh}

Well it’s Monday people and I’m psyching myself up for the week ahead.

I hope yours is fantastic!

-erin-

Note:  Once again...I 'm having some technical difficulties but make sure to come back later for pictures of a Es and her sitting up endeavors.

The Clouds have Lifted (An Eslea Update)

Today is a very special day.
For today marks six weeks since Eslea's open heart surgery.
Can I get a Whoop?!

For those not in the "know", six weeks is the amount of time doctors deem the "don't even think about it" stage. Okay, that's what I named it but you get the point. For six weeks, we had to be extra special careful of her breast bone, so there was very little (if any) tummy time, no picking her up under her arms, so on and so on. Although I'm still leery, I'm also excited at all the new developmental activities she now gets to undertake.

Six weeks. Six weeks since her surgery. I've spent some time reflecting on the moments that led up to that day. The day I allowed a surgical team I had met only briefly stop my precious little one's heart in their quest to save her life. Browsing the words that I wrote on the day the surgery was rescheduled and skimming the pictures of her tiny frail body...well, let's just say I have never felt such relief when the surgery was finally over. I have spent too many days in this short life of mine crying over the health of my sweet child.
Since that surgery, Esleas is growing and thriving. She is starting to become the child I imagined her to be. The very same child I hoped and dreamed over as I rubbed her head as she grew in my belly.
I take that back. She is better. Far better than any child I could have ever imagined. As I watch her, I can see the face of the child she is becoming. The face of the person she is going to be.

Excuse the blurriness, my battery was dying but I just had to show that little face.

Now, let's take pause for a moment to enjoy the mushy feeling that can only be found while gazing upon some sweet little baby pudge...



 Baby. Pudge. Yes. That's right. There is Whoopin' going on all over this house.

Six weeks. Smiling mama here.

We have met with the pediatric cardiologist since the surgery and although the majority of his findings were very good, he did have some bad news for us. Eslea still has a small hole in her heart; the closing of the PDA was not successful. Because of the extent of the leakage she now has through that hole, she will again need to undergo a procedure to close it sometime in the near future. The good part (of the bad news, if there is such a thing) is that she most likely will have a heart catheter used to fix the damage versus another open heart surgery.

The clouds are lifting. Sun shining. Baby Laughing.
Life is Good.

Eslea had her physical therapy evaluation yesterday for the first time. I nervously waited what the therapist would say because I knew how the heart condition has held her back. So much time passed in which Eslea was not allowed to be placed on her tummy that I was afraid of what the outlook might be. The proud mommy in me wants to tell the therapist all the things Eslea does well but I refrained because I want the truth, however it comes.
My mommy pride bubble grew bigger yesterday. Eslea, despite not having tummy time for almost three months now, is on track for her age. Here comes another...Whoop! She is almost sitting unassisted, rolls over when she is in the mood and the best thing is that she is honest to goodness trying to scoot around already. I love watching her little toes as they dig themselves into the floor while at the same time attempting to scoot those newly chubbed arms forward to reach some brightly colored toy in front of her. Man I love that little girl.

Thanks again to everyone who prayed for our little buggie and the good thoughts that were sent into the world.
Six weeks.
Okay, just one more...
Whoop!

-erin