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 Look on Their Faces

Something strange is happening.
I have noticed that the people around are looking at me differently.
They are speaking to me differently.
People that once didn't seem to care to take the time to speak to me are stopping to chat.
They all want to know about Eslea.

How is she doing? How am I doing? How is it going? What is it like?
I see it in their faces. They know. They all know. They have all been told by one person or another. The word spreading like a brush fire after a long drought.
Their eyes show that they are struggling somewhat with the words they are choosing but they are fairly certain the right ones have made way to their lips.
They have heard. They want to know.
I try to make it easier. I begin by saying that she is great. She is beautiful. She is making it day by day.

Yet the look on their face is still there. They want to ask. To find out if it's true.
Again, I try to make it easier. I tell them that she was born with down syndrome and that she also struggles with a pretty severe heart defect, two holes to be exact.
Their face changes. Yes. That is what they wanted to hear.
But which was it? Which one were they most curious about?
I do not know for sure and probably never will.
It doesn't matter. For I am certain that what drives their curiosity is not the same factor that keeps me up at night. It's not the aspect of Eslea's condition that has me watching her mouth closely as she eats to make sure she doesn't turn blue.
So, I say something else to them. I tell them that she is perfect. She is as close to heaven as I can get on this earth and I am overwhelmed that I get to be her mother.

They can not know that what causes me the most concern at night has nothing to do with that tiny extra chromosome.
It is something greater. Something so very small that struggles every second to work efficiently.
It is her heart.
Yet every day it continues to beat.
Every night I thank my Savior for allowing me another day to spend with her....and that extra chromosome.

Regardless of what their motivation may be, I am grateful that people take the time to ask about her.
So thank you to everyone that ask. Thank you for taking the time to ask about my little buggie.


Today:
I am determined that sometime in the near future to squeeze me some sweet juicy baby thighs.
 Eslea's strength is in her legs.
In an effort to keep that as a strength, she takes part in baby leg presses.
It's not her favorite thing, but after about a minute of groaning and pushing she finally gets somewhere. That's right. That's my baby.