This cat! He is so in love with baby Elliot. "Fat Cat" has to be by my side when I feed Elliot, diaper him, etc. He tries to come and lick him when he cries. He purrs unremittingly when he is near Elliot. Now, I find him in Elliot's "Baby Papasan" seat. Ridiculous kitty! Cat fur galore. Darn it.
One of my good friends has a cat named “Elliot.” And no, I did not name our son after my friend’s “baby!” This same cat runs and hides from Nora. Go figure!
Elliot will soon endure a fluoroscopy (or modified barium swallow study). Poor guy. We’ve done one and now another before we can start to give him solids. A speech language pathologist in combination with a radiologist will record the images to diagnose oral swallowing dysfunction (if any), determine the safest food consistencies, and plan a “treatment” program for Wee E. As Elliot simply cannot hold his head up (at nearly 8 months), we have to go down this road before I can merely give him some darn rice cereal. Elliot is a pig, eating about 50 ounces of formula daily. He seems to salivate each and every time we eat in front of him. He so wants something besides his beloved “ba.” He says that his liquid diet is starting to really STINK!
And so it began. I started feeling a bit “full” in early August. I thought that perchance I overindulged with my birthday dinner on the second. Mild cramping, but, since I had no idea what an authentic contraction felt like, (I was induced with sweet Nora), I was merely under the assumption that I ate too much! Interestingly enough, that was not the case. I called the hospital and was told to wait it out, lie down and drink some water. As the “contractions” began coming in waves, (every 10 minutes on the clock…then every 5), I thought that it was best that I head in to the hospital. We woke Nora at 10 p.m. and headed to the facility where we had registered to deliver. Upon arrival and following a cervical check, I was told that UNQUESTIONABLY I was not leaving the hospital. I was 6 cm dialeted and fully effaced and would have this baby boy very shortly! The first word out of my mouth at that point in time was “SH*#!!” I remember it all too well. I was merely 32-weeks pregnant and now, petrified.
I labored all night. I was also told that due to an elevated white blood count it was not in my best interests to have an epidural. So, I continued to labor sans any medication. I thought, “Hey, this isn’t bad.” The pain was tolerable. Tolerable, that is, until my OB arrived and broke my water. I thought that God was taking me away! After rupturing my water bag, I labored for another 10 minutes and was finally fully dialeted. I do not remember pushing; I do remember swearing at my husband and my poor OB.
Elliot James was born at roughly 7 a.m. on August 8, 2006 weighing in at just over 4 pounds. Instantaneously, he was taken away. I saw him for all but 5 seconds. I simply laid in the bed, shaking and sniveling.
The hospital’s immediate concern centered on Elliot’s breathing. He did receive a small amount of oxygen, however, did not receive much. I was so relieved. I expected severe respiratory distress.
Roughly 30 minutes following delivery, the nurses rushed in. “Elliot is being transferred to another hospital’s NICU,” I was told. “You cannot go; you must wait for an ambulance transfer.” Now, I was plainly confused, thinking, “But Elliot is breathing on his own; his lungs are developed; what is wrong with him?” “Nothing,” I was told. “Your pediatrician is simply more comfortable, based upon his gestational age, with Elliot in the NICU.” The ENT boys arrived within minutes and Elliot was taken.
As I waited for a call from the hospital NICU regarding our son’s breathing status, I was nervous. I thought that something may be wrong and I just wasn’t told. At last, I received a call from my father on his mobile line. He was with my mom and Elliot at the NICU. After talking with Dad and being assured that all was fine, the neonatologist on hand picked up Dad’s mobile. His words will never be forgotten. He stated that while Elliot was breathing on his own, there was something else terribly wrong. He said that he thought that Elliot had Down syndrome. I was horrified, and laid in a hospital bed across town, unable to even look at my son. I waited all day for an ambulance transfer. I remember screaming at the nurses, telling them that there was a mistake. “But I had 10 ultrasounds; nothing showed up.”
I kept remembering a particular incident over the summer. I took Nora swimming almost weekly to escape the heat and to gain a bit of refreshment in my pregnant state. There was a beautiful family at the pool each and every time. They were so perfect, I thought. One day, they came with a young girl with Down syndrome. I felt so sorry for them. I thought, “Thank God that ‘I’ will never have a child with that ‘disorder.’”
Upon arrival at the NICU, I was able to finally see what the doctor had described over the telephone. Elliot’s eyes were slanted upward. His ears were set low on his head and he simply did not look at all like our 5-year old daughter, Nora, did at birth. Indeed. We visited with a geneticist and ran a karyotype report on our son’s chromosomes. Later in the week, it was confirmed that Elliot had an extra 21st chromosome, characteristic of Trisomy 21, more commonly referred to as Down syndrome. I was now part of a family akin to the family at the pool. My son had what I previously referred to as “that disorder.” I so wanted to eat my words.
Elliot, despite his low birth weight, was only in the NICU for 11 days. He was an eater. He was a fighter and he was so much more than just a “strong” baby boy. He came home on August 19, 2006.
While he seemed to be fine for the first few days at home, he, in actuality, was not. It was found that Elliot was extremely hyperthyroid. So hyperthyroid, in fact, he nearly went into cardiac arrest.
While pregnant, I was being treated for having an autoimmune thyroid disease known as Hashimoto’s disease (HYPOthyroidsim). Following Elliot’s birth, in reality, it was found that I have both Hashimoto’s and Graves’ disease (autoimmune HYPERthyroidism). I’m one for the books! Elliot was born with antibodies for both diseases. My antibodies crossed the placenta transiently. Elliot was born two months prematurely because of untreated Graves’ disease. The doctors have all told me that he should have died inutero from cardiac arrest…from thyroid storm. He did not. He was here. God had a plan.
I will now say that our lives have been forever changed. Nonetheless, my life has changed for the better. My son does not have a “disorder.” And I hate myself for classifying Down syndrome as something other than utter beauty. Sadly, I do believe the general population looks at the condition as a disorder… an appalling affliction if you will. Undeniably, a great deal of education needs to take place. It is all that I think about and all that I focus on: elevating awareness regarding the beauty of being an “enhanced” individual.
Our gift was born only a few months ago. I know what fear is. I know what it means to feel traumatized by a sudden turn from my expectations. I know what it means to feel exposed.
Yes, my original expectations are gone, but the joy that Elliot has brought to our family’s lives, especially that of his 5-year old sister, is immeasurable. Indisputably, what we will learn from him!
I continue to welcome my dear cherub into the world each and every day. I am blessed beyond comprehension!
It has always been said that a single picture is worth a thousand words, but I simply cannot place a value on my son’s smile! A smile is one of the most exquisite things in the world because it has so many special reasons behind it. Currently, however, I just know that Elliot smiles out of pure and utter delight. I have to admit that I am spoiled as well. It seems that as of late I am about the only one that is able to trigger baby boy’s smile, in addition to his first laughs. I have waited for what seems to be forever to witness Elliot’s smile. I am guilty of taking Nora’s first smiles for granted…along with many other special milestones. Nora did everything early. Dear Elliot takes his sweet time. I cherish his smile, I melt and I fall in love all the more each and every time he shares his special grin with me.
My gift was born merely 7 months ago, without the foreknowledge of amniocentesis. Upon Elliot’s diagnosis, I went into a state of denial. Designing this video was a noteworthy part of my healing process.
Angels on Earth
