Holiday Update

So we've been spending time with family, and Bridget has been loving the constant hum of activity and people! She's eating everything that's offered to her, asking to use the potty, and attempting more and more spoken words. She loves her new doll that Santa brought (and the zhu zhu hamsters he brought for Emmy), and is keeping busy drawing and playing the days away.

My parents have a picture of Alina on their refrigerator at Bridget's eye level. She'll walk by the refrigerator, stop and wave to the picture, or stop and kiss the picture. Yesterday, she offered Alina her phone, "here, you" (it's for you!). She calls Alina "baby" or "nuh". We'll ask, Are you going to share your toys with Alina? or, Are you going to be a good big sister? To which she replies, "Yup".

We've recently discovered that Bridget can say "p-o-k-e-r" clearly. (She's been sitting at the table each night while the dads and cousins play). She even knows the difference between (and can say) "(poker) chips" and "cards". We're so proud :)...

Holiday Update

So we've been spending time with family, and Bridget has been loving the constant hum of activity and people! She's eating everything that's offered to her, asking to use the potty, and attempting more and more spoken words. She loves her new doll that Santa brought (and the zhu zhu hamsters he brought for Emmy), and is keeping busy drawing and playing the days away.

My parents have a picture of Alina on their refrigerator at Bridget's eye level. She'll walk by the refrigerator, stop and wave to the picture, or stop and kiss the picture. Yesterday, she offered Alina her phone, "here, you" (it's for you!). She calls Alina "baby" or "nuh". We'll ask, Are you going to share your toys with Alina? or, Are you going to be a good big sister? To which she replies, "Yup".

We've recently discovered that Bridget can say "p-o-k-e-r" clearly. (She's been sitting at the table each night while the dads and cousins play). She even knows the difference between (and can say) "(poker) chips" and "cards". We're so proud :)...

Our Special New Light

You're half a world away, and yet
Your little light has led us straight to you.

Can you possibly know how much you are loved
and wanted
Or how we ache to hold you
and soothe you and enjoy you?

Our hearts are full, overflowing with hope. The sting of your absence will soon be gone, filled with--and replaced by--you.

We're learning all about your country, your language, and the types of food you may enjoy. We look forward to beginning some new family traditions in your honor. Soon, the little girl in our dreams and prayers will be part of our family, part of our lives forever. We can't wait to learn all about you.

Merry Christmas, sweet Alina.
We're working as fast as we can to get you home.
Next year, we'll look back and remember how we waited
to hold you and to shower you with gifts and love.

Tonight, on Christmas, we send up a humble prayer:

Thank you, Dear Creator, for our special new light.
Please keep her well
Until she is here,
smiling, content and safe in our arms.

Ready. Set. Go!

We've been busy this past week (and I've updated our sidebar with an Adoption Timeline which shows some of the things we have been doing)! We know that there is a little girl out there who needs us, so we hit the ground running. I feel like a contestant on the Amazing Race!

Since we had not considered adoption before finding Alina, we were not at all prepared for the mass amount of paperwork and details which are part of adopting internationally. We are getting acclimated quickly, though, and have found incredible support within the Down syndrome and Reece's Rainbow communities, and from friends and family.

We firmly believe that we were meant to find Alina--and to welcome her into our hearts and home--and are touched that so many others feel that way as well.

We are looking for current pictures and updates on Alina, and hope that we will have more information soon. We have finally figured out where she is living (and therefore where we will be visiting!), and have been in contact with other families who are adopting from the same orphanage.

Our home study is scheduled to begin when we return from our holiday travels. We have a lot to do in the next few months, but we are excited and ready to do whatever is necessary. I'll post here with new details and updates.

~Wishing everyone a wonderful holiday season filled with peace and love~

We're Expecting...

...a toddler!

Anyone who knows us will not be particularly surprised to learn that we are adding once again to our family, even though we thought that Bridget would be our last. We really were not looking to grow our already fairly large family--but then a little girl came into our view and into our hearts, and changed all of that.

Just over a week ago, I visited the website for Reece's Rainbow (an organization which promotes the international adoption of children with Down syndrome) via a link on another blog. I had no idea at the time that the click of a button would change the course of our lives forever.

Chris and I had been talking with the kids about charitable giving and had decided to donate to Reece's Rainbow through the Angel Tree fundraiser. We love that all donations go directly to a particular child's adoption fund, thereby increasing the chances that he or she will be adopted.

(Unfortunately, in many parts of the world, orphans with Down syndrome are living on borrowed time. Between the ages of three to five, the paperwork is started and they are soon transferred to an institution, where care is very poor and chance of survival past one year is slim.)

While all of the children on the site pulled at our heartstrings, we could not stop thinking about one little girl in particular. Her name is Alina, and she is about nine months younger than Bridget. (She looks quite a bit like Bridget from the one picture we have seen of her.) The picture on the Reece's Rainbow website is not great, though. Her head is shaved (which apparently is common practice during the warmer months in many orphanages) and her little lips are chapped. She is not looking at the camera in the grainy photo.

Still, we see a beautiful little girl with great potential, and much to offer--who needs a family willing to love her, care for her and give her a chance at life. Chris and I did not decide immediately to adopt her ourselves, but agreed that we would help to raise money for her adoption fund.

We barely spoke about Alina after that first night, but she weighed heavily on our hearts for the next several days. Though busy with the details of everyday life, we could think of little else. Finally, one morning when the kids were all at school, I approached Chris--although to hear him tell it, I "ambushed" him :).

That little girl...is there any way..., I began. I couldn't even get the words out.

He paused briefly (though I think he knew the question was coming, so much for his ambush theory). It wouldn't be easy, he started. He was nodding yes, but not making any sound.

We both knew we needed some time to process what was happening. Were we making the decision to pursue adopting her? We both knew the answer was yes, if the kids were on board.

That night at dinner we talked with our children about Alina, her need for a family and how they would feel about bringing her here. We had our laptop at the kitchen table with her picture pulled up. I asked Bridget, What do you think about this baby? Looking at the picture on the computer screen, she signed and said, Baby. Sad.

Do you want to bring her to our house?, I asked. DO!, she said (which means yes).

We asked for a show of hands, Who would like to make Alina part of our family? Hands shot up quickly (even Bridget). Emmy was the only one who wasn't teary-eyed at this point. She looked up from her plate, then side-to-side. Wait, we're talking about ADOPTING A BABY?

Yes, Emmy, said Chris. How do you feel about that?

As long as she doesn't wake me up at night...

Kyle jumped in, Geez, Emmy! Emmy mouthed (with a grin), What?!

We should adopt her because she needs love and support to have a better future, said Brian.

We would be giving her a chance at life, added Sara.

Bridget was saying and signing, Mommy. Daddy. Baby. Mommy. Daddy. Baby. (We're not exactly sure why, but she must have had an idea of what we were talking about.)

Do you all realize that Alina has Down syndrome? asked Chris. It would mean that you would have two little sisters with Down syndrome.

That would be good, Kyle offered. I love Bridget and I like having lots of siblings. I think it would be good for Bridget, too. Alina needs a family and we are the perfect family for her.

One by one, the kids left the table to finish homework or to get ready for bed until just Chris and I were left at the table with Bridget. We sat across from one another, teary-eyed and tired, but feeling incredibly blessed and completely at peace with our decision and our new journey.

So within a week of seeing Alina's picture, we went from hoping to raise money for her adoption fund, to making a commitment to be her forever family. The decision wasn't really a tough one. We know there will be challenges, but we also know there will be untold rewards.

We move forward with hope and joyful anticipation of Alina's arrival (this summer, if all goes as planned).

Please keep us in your thoughts. Prayers and good wishes are welcome and appreciated for Alina: for her continued health, safety and comfort; and for us: for energy as we work through the details of her adoption, and for patience in waiting to bring her home.

We invite you to follow along and share in our joy as we become a family of eight:

Loving Alina

We're Expecting...

...a toddler!

Anyone who knows us will not be particularly surprised to learn that we are adding once again to our family, even though we thought that Bridget would be our last. We really were not looking to grow our already fairly large family--but then a little girl came into our view and into our hearts, and changed all of that.

Just over a week ago, I visited the website for Reece's Rainbow (an organization which promotes the international adoption of children with Down syndrome) via a link on another blog. I had no idea at the time that the click of a button would change the course of our lives forever.

Chris and I had been talking with the kids about charitable giving and had decided to donate to Reece's Rainbow through the Angel Tree fundraiser. We love that all donations go directly to a particular child's adoption fund, thereby increasing the chances that he or she will be adopted.

(Unfortunately, in many parts of the world, orphans with Down syndrome are living on borrowed time. Between the ages of three to five, the paperwork is started and they are soon transferred to an institution, where care is very poor and chance of survival past one year is slim.)

While all of the children on the site pulled at our heartstrings, we could not stop thinking about one little girl in particular. Her name is Alina, and she is about nine months younger than Bridget. (She looks quite a bit like Bridget from the one picture we have seen of her.) The picture on the Reece's Rainbow website is not great, though. Her head is shaved (which apparently is common practice during the warmer months in many orphanages) and her little lips are chapped. She is not looking at the camera in the grainy photo.

Still, we see a beautiful little girl with great potential, and much to offer--who needs a family willing to love her, care for her and give her a chance at life. Chris and I did not decide immediately to adopt her ourselves, but agreed that we would help to raise money for her adoption fund.

We barely spoke about Alina after that first night, but she weighed heavily on our hearts for the next several days. Though busy with the details of everyday life, we could think of little else. Finally, one morning when the kids were all at school, I approached Chris--although to hear him tell it, I "ambushed" him :).

That little girl...is there any way..., I began. I couldn't even get the words out.

He paused briefly (though I think he knew the question was coming, so much for his ambush theory). It wouldn't be easy, he started. He was nodding yes, but not making any sound.

We both knew we needed some time to process what was happening. Were we making the decision to pursue adopting her? We both knew the answer was yes, if the kids were on board.

That night at dinner we talked with our children about Alina, her need for a family and how they would feel about bringing her here. We had our laptop at the kitchen table with her picture pulled up. I asked Bridget, What do you think about this baby? Looking at the picture on the computer screen, she signed and said, Baby. Sad.

Do you want to bring her to our house?, I asked. DO!, she said (which means yes).

We asked for a show of hands, Who would like to make Alina part of our family? Hands shot up quickly (even Bridget). Emmy was the only one who wasn't teary-eyed at this point. She looked up from her plate, then side-to-side. Wait, we're talking about ADOPTING A BABY?

Yes, Emmy, said Chris. How do you feel about that?

As long as she doesn't wake me up at night...

Kyle jumped in, Geez, Emmy! Emmy mouthed (with a grin), What?!

We should adopt her because she needs love and support to have a better future, said Brian.

We would be giving her a chance at life, added Sara.

Bridget was saying and signing, Mommy. Daddy. Baby. Mommy. Daddy. Baby. (We're not exactly sure why, but she must have had an idea of what we were talking about.)

Do you all realize that Alina has Down syndrome? asked Chris. It would mean that you would have two little sisters with Down syndrome.

That would be good, Kyle offered. I love Bridget and I like having lots of siblings. I think it would be good for Bridget, too. Alina needs a family and we are the perfect family for her.

One by one, the kids left the table to finish homework or to get ready for bed until just Chris and I were left at the table with Bridget. We sat across from one another, teary-eyed and tired, but feeling incredibly blessed and completely at peace with our decision and our new journey.

So within a week of seeing Alina's picture, we went from hoping to raise money for her adoption fund, to making a commitment to be her forever family. The decision wasn't really a tough one. We know there will be challenges, but we also know there will be untold rewards.

We move forward with hope and joyful anticipation of Alina's arrival (this summer, if all goes as planned).

Please keep us in your thoughts. Prayers and good wishes are welcome and appreciated for Alina: for her continued health, safety and comfort; and for us: for energy as we work through the details of her adoption, and for patience in waiting to bring her home.

We invite you to follow along and share in our joy as we become a family of eight:

Loving Alina

Welcome!

This post marks the beginning of our journey through international adoption to bring Alina home! We are so excited :)!



We have a large and close family with five children already: Sara (14), Kyle (12), Brian (10), Emmy (7), and Bridget (3). Bridget was diagnosed with Down syndrome at birth. Although the diagnosis came as a shock, we have found that Down syndrome itself is not something to fear. We adore Bridget. We see her potential and hope to help her share her special light with others.



We were not initially looking to adopt a child, but wanted to make a donation to Reece's Rainbow for their annual Angel Tree fundraiser as a part of our holiday giving and Down syndrome advocacy efforts. We found Alina's picture and began to feel as though our lives were about to change. We soon realized that we were a perfect match for her, and quickly made the commitment to bring her home as soon as possible :).



We know that there will be challenges along the way, and that our path is full of uncertainty. We also know that what's most important is worth fighting for, and that there will be untold rewards. We move forward with hope and joyful anticipation of Alina's arrival.



Here is our family profile from the Reece's Rainbow website:



Chris and Lisa met at The Ohio State University in the fall of 1988, on the first day of classes during Lisa’s freshman year. Chris was a senior at the time. They married four and a half years later and now have five children ranging from 3-14 years in age.



Their youngest child, Bridget, was diagnosed with Down syndrome at birth. Although they were previously unaware of Bridget’s diagnosis, they quickly came to understand that she is truly perfect, and perfect for them. Bridget is now three-and-a-half years old and is thriving. Lisa wrote a chapter for the book Gifts, 2, about Bridget and all she has brought to their lives. The entire family is involved in Down syndrome advocacy efforts. Lisa also writes and manages Bridget's Light, a blog about life with Bridget.



The Peele family was not initially looking to expand, but rather visited Reece’s Rainbow to donate for the Angel Tree fundraiser. They came across Alina’s picture and noticed that she looks a lot like Bridget. Lisa and Chris were immediately drawn to her. Lisa looked up the meaning of “Alina” to discover that her name means “light”—a major theme in their lives thus far.



They also realized that Bridget would benefit from having another sibling with Down syndrome so close in age, and that the whole family was entirely prepared to welcome Alina. Together, they decided that not only could they manage another child, but that Alina herself was meant for them, and they for her.



Chris and Lisa both feel that the events of the past 15 years have prepared them for Alina and for their journey of international adoption.



They were ready to commit to adopting her, and wanted to make sure the rest of the kids were in agreement.



The older Peele children are sensitive and compassionate and excited to welcome another sibling with Down syndrome. “This little girl needs a family, and we are the perfect family for her,” said Kyle (12). A show of hands at the dinner table was unanimous to make Alina part of the family and bring her home as soon as possible.



As a group, the family has decided to keep her name. They think “Alina” is beautiful and meaningful. They also know that she will need to adjust to many new aspects of life soon, and would like for her feel some comfort in being known by her given name.



“Alina” is a variation of Eileen, which is particularly special, as it is the middle name of Lisa’s aunt Denise, her mom’s sister. Alina’s middle name will be Caroline--after another very special family member who passed away in 1997.



Alina’s arrival in the United States is greatly anticipated by immediate and extended family and a large network of friends. She will be loved, cherished, and offered every opportunity to live a full, healthy and happy life.



Her adoptive family is committed to giving her everything she needs to fulfill her potential and her hopes, whatever each may be. They look forward, with happy hearts, to learning more about her and helping to make her dreams come true.



Alina \a-li-na: means “light”. Origin Meaning: Arabic Noble, beautiful; Celtic Fair, beautiful; Chinese Big Bright Eyes, Yes definitely beautiful!; Dutch Outgoing; Gaelic Bright, noble, smart; German Diminutive of Adilene, From the Old German "Athal" meaning noble; Greek Light, beautiful; Irish Beautiful; Latin Of the nobility; Polish Beautiful, Bright, kind; Russian Scarlet (color, connoted in Russian with hope and anticipation of happiness); Slavic Noble, Kind; Teutonic Noble smart; Romanian To heal.



Caroline: “Joy. Song of happiness.”



Please keep us in your thoughts. Prayers and good wishes are welcome and appreciated for Alina: for her continued health, safety and comfort; and for us: for energy as we work through the details of her adoption, and for patience in waiting to bring her home.



We invite you to follow along and share in our joy as we become a family of eight!

New

My time is short these days, and I have been meaning (and wanting) to get here and write about all kinds of things. I have several posts half-done. Does that count :)? Anyway, here are a few things I've been wanting to mention:

- Notice the search bar at the top right under header. Yea! It works. Feel free to try it out :).

- Updates on Bridget:

Preschool is going great. We just got her first progress report, and she is, well, making progress! She has a nice start on many of the goals on her IEP, which I am pleased about, but I am even more happy about how much she is enjoying school (as well as the bus and even her backpack!) and about all the new things she is doing and learning.

We're noticing a "language explosion"--in relative terms, of course. Last night, Bridget said, "I go sleep" and "Where cup? Where my cup!" She has started saying, "Oopsie!" (which has morphed from her very cute "Oop!"), and is now able to say every name in our family (a few of the names are short versions, like "Bri" for Brian...but we know exactly what she is saying, and it is clear to others as well). She is saying "Mom-my" and "Dad-dy" and "Em-my" (when previously she was just saying "Dad", "Mom", and "Em"). She is also beginning to put new words together to describe things, like, "baby sad". Bridget is still signing, but consistently saying words with the sign. She's repeating lots of things they must be doing in school, such as letting us know the type of weather each day at the bus stop (she signs and says "cold" or "rainy" or "sunny"). She will also randomly mention names of her classmates. She is singing along with the ABC's, Itsy-Bitsy Spider, You Are My Sunshine, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Happy Birthday and other songs. She says "Hap-py Birth-day" and "Pat-a-cake" very clearly, as well as many other words in the songs. Some parts are less clear to us, but she is attempting the whole song regardless. Wow!

Bridget is very much enjoying all of her siblings (and vice versa). She is absolutely part of the group, just as any other three-year-old would be. She especially likes reading with Emmy, listening to iPods with any of the kids and being in the basement when the boys are shooting baskets (trying to shoot baskets herself).

We ditched the official potty training way back in the summer. Right after we started, it was clear to me that while Bridget was showing many readiness signs, she was not 100% ready to potty train (mainly because she was not able to give me any notice before she needed to go...so even though she was mostly going in the potty, I never felt safe taking her anywhere in underwear). Being able to go when I asked her to was great, but in my mind, that did not constitute being "potty trained". Sometimes, we'd sit in the bathroom for a half-an-hour before she would go. A few days of that was more than enough for both of us, so I decided she was getting ready to train, but was not quite there. And there was really no hurry, other than some arbitrary timeline I'd set to potty train her by the age of three. I decided I'd assess as we go, and begin again when she was able to tell us consistently when she needed to go (and after she'd adjusted to preschool). She has made strides in all areas this past few months. Now it is a matter of me getting serious about it again. When I am able to be consistent and focus on potty training for at least a week, we'll begin again. I am not in a rush, though. It will happen sometime soon :).

I have been thinking of others during this holiday season, and have been giving whenever and wherever I can. Brian's 5th grade class has been talking about Random Acts of Kindness and has been trying to focus on things to do that (1) cost little--or no--money and (2) are unexpected. We've been talking at dinner time about what each of the kids is doing each day to show that they are paying attention to others and how they are spreading love and kindness. We're participating in food drives, adopt-a-family programs and other community-oriented programs, as well as encouraging the kids to give compliments and go out of their way to notice others & opportunities to make someone smile.

(Does anyone remember hearing about the customer who paid for the next person's order in the Starbucks drive-through? There's an idea that could be applied to any drive-through scenario.)

I have been busy fundraising for our local Ds organization, helping friends to locate hard-to-find gifts, and sharing special recipes with family and friends. I'll always answer the call when someone is looking for a certain type of recipe (holiday, nut-free, vegetarian, etc.) if something I have fits the bill. I'll also do some asking around if need be. Giving of time, talents or ideas is free and easy.

I have loved reading all the thoughts and ideas about giving on other blogs. Check Bethany's blog to find everyone else who is participating in her challenge.

To Give, with Love and Care

This is a great time of year to give--to give thanks for all we have, and to help others in need.

Bethany at Life with Bubba, Chicky & Nika had an awesome idea: she started the 12 Days of Giving Challenge.

I will be giving to others, whether it is in a big or small way, for at least the first two weeks of the month on a daily basis. (I may not write about every single thing here, but I will definitely mention some of the things we're doing as a family to give, and to give back.)

Tonight, we were talking about how we could advocate for Bridget and others with Down syndrome. I mentioned Reece's Rainbow and gathered everyone around the computer to view pictures of children waiting to be adopted and families who had already brought their children home.

There are so many worthy places to direct energy and money (and I plan on highlighting a few of those in the upcoming week), but here's one way to make a difference: donate money (even $10) to a child's grant fund to make it easier for that child to find his or her forever family.

The Gift of a Forever Home, from the Reece's Rainbow website:

Our Sponsorship Program provides a unique opportunity for anonymous donors to contribute to the adoption journey of our families. These children are viewed as outcasts with no ability to learn or be functional members of society. They languish in mental institutions, hidden away from the world in shame. Even if you are not able to adopt a child at this time, you truly can change the course of a child's life by helping adoptive families afford the costs of international adoption.

One time of visiting the Reece's Rainbow website, and I can't get these precious faces out of my mind. Is there a sibling here for Bridget, Emmy, Sara, Kyle & Brian?

As a family, we decided to donate for these children (each of whom has $0 in his or her grant fund):

These are just a few of the children who caught our eyes (each one of them reminds us of Bridget), but it is this little girl at the bottom who has completely stolen my heart (she is about 9 months younger than Bridget):

Alina

Born March 10, 2007
"The orphanage shaved all of their heads bald for the summer, but this beauty has dark hair and blue eyes. She needs a loving family to help her be the very best she can be! She is still quite young, but hasn't had a great photo yet. Hoping for her mama to see beyond these orphan pictures and envision her as the amazing, beautiful, able little girl that she is!"

I can so see her with us. I'd already stopped on her picture several times, and then I read this description. My heart just melted. It sounds like something I'd write about Bridget. With love and care, this little girl will thrive.

Anyone would be lucky to have any of these children. Even if you are not in a position to adopt, please consider donating to help bring them home.

Take My Hand...

So An Open Letter to Parents Facing a Diagnosis of Down Syndrome by Lisa Morguess of Finnian's Journey is now available on Mamapedia. For all the parents who are raising children with Down syndrome, and for all the parents who will be walking in our footsteps, this is awesome news. Please read it if you haven't already, and pass it along.

I was struck by one of the comments about Lisa's letter on the Mamapedia site:

Thank you, Lisa, for writing this. It is one of the most accurate articles about Down syndrome I have ever read. I have a grown son who was born with Down syndrome 26 years ago and wish I could have read your words when he was brand new. My son was in kindergarten when I wrote "Thoughts from the Middle of the Night" - It was meant to be a Thank You note to families who paved the way for the opportunities they created so he could show us his true potential. This Thanksgiving I will keep your words in mind as I celebrate the gratitude I feel among friends and family for my life and his. I feel so thankful for all our sons and daughters, and for mothers like you who reach out to us all.

And this made me think about how we are all reaching--out for our children, and toward one another--finding our way along this entangled and enchanted path.

I'm giving thanks, too, for all of it.

Here's an excerpt from the piece mentioned above (click here to read the rest of the story):

Thoughts From the Middle of the Night
Pamela Wilson

When my son was born and I was told he had Down syndrome, I did not cry for a long time. But when I saw a girl walking hand in hand with her little brother to the viewing window of the hospital nursery, I could not hold back my tears. I knew my daughter would never walk with her little brother that way. I knew he would never experience the small pleasures of life I always took for granted. In those minutes my heart was broken and I was overcome with sadness for both my children.

Now, almost six years later, I am filled with pity for the misinformed, heartbroken woman who sat crying in that cold hospital corridor, without hopes, dreams, or fight in her. She was wrong about so many things. That part of me continues to be reeducated: I am grateful for every new lesson I learn.

I am thankful to that woman. She found she did have some fight in her. She was not the first mother to fall in love with her newly-diagnosed child. She learned of brave and stubborn mothers who put themselves forward in the media to spread a message of hope. She let the memories of those mothers stir her into action. I shall always revere the mothers and fathers who reached out a hand, and who built a foundation of support, information, and resources for women like me to draw upon. What they did for their children transformed my son's life. They continue, still looking forward, always reaching back to help others.

I still reach back to the woman I was. I hold her gently and wish that in her grief she could hear me. "It's not like that. Please don't lose yourself in that sadness. Hold on, wait and see. So much of that grief is over things that are just not true." I know she has to sit there crying, and I don't know how long. I will wait with her and be a friend...

Take My Hand...

So An Open Letter to Parents Facing a Diagnosis of Down Syndrome by Lisa Morguess of Finnian's Journey is now available on Mamapedia. For all the parents who are raising children with Down syndrome, and for all the parents who will be walking in our footsteps, this is awesome news. Please read it if you haven't already, and pass it along.

I was struck by one of the comments about Lisa's letter on the Mamapedia site:

Thank you, Lisa, for writing this. It is one of the most accurate articles about Down syndrome I have ever read. I have a grown son who was born with Down syndrome 26 years ago and wish I could have read your words when he was brand new. My son was in kindergarten when I wrote "Thoughts from the Middle of the Night" - It was meant to be a Thank You note to families who paved the way for the opportunities they created so he could show us his true potential. This Thanksgiving I will keep your words in mind as I celebrate the gratitude I feel among friends and family for my life and his. I feel so thankful for all our sons and daughters, and for mothers like you who reach out to us all.

And this made me think about how we are all reaching--out for our children, and toward one another--finding our way along this entangled and enchanted path.

I'm giving thanks, too, for all of it.

Here's an excerpt from the piece mentioned above (click here to read the rest of the story):

Thoughts From the Middle of the Night
Pamela Wilson

When my son was born and I was told he had Down syndrome, I did not cry for a long time. But when I saw a girl walking hand in hand with her little brother to the viewing window of the hospital nursery, I could not hold back my tears. I knew my daughter would never walk with her little brother that way. I knew he would never experience the small pleasures of life I always took for granted. In those minutes my heart was broken and I was overcome with sadness for both my children.

Now, almost six years later, I am filled with pity for the misinformed, heartbroken woman who sat crying in that cold hospital corridor, without hopes, dreams, or fight in her. She was wrong about so many things. That part of me continues to be reeducated: I am grateful for every new lesson I learn.

I am thankful to that woman. She found she did have some fight in her. She was not the first mother to fall in love with her newly-diagnosed child. She learned of brave and stubborn mothers who put themselves forward in the media to spread a message of hope. She let the memories of those mothers stir her into action. I shall always revere the mothers and fathers who reached out a hand, and who built a foundation of support, information, and resources for women like me to draw upon. What they did for their children transformed my son's life. They continue, still looking forward, always reaching back to help others.

I still reach back to the woman I was. I hold her gently and wish that in her grief she could hear me. "It's not like that. Please don't lose yourself in that sadness. Hold on, wait and see. So much of that grief is over things that are just not true." I know she has to sit there crying, and I don't know how long. I will wait with her and be a friend...

Our Fragile Emissary--A Poem

Our Fragile Emissary
by Nancy Tupper Ling

With modern screening and such
they wonder why
you're here, on this earth
in our home
and in our arms,
after all, anyone
with any sense would have resolved
this problem of you
pre-birth, pre pain.

Blonde Beauty,
tiny as you are,
you catch their stares,
strangers' second glances
into tender baby blues.
And your young
sweet ears hear whisperings
("Down's," "defects")
words dropped loosely
at extra-chromosomed girls.

With such stinging receptions
how we long to shelter you,
surround you; keep your
gentle smiles to ourselves.
Instead, we hold you
up, for others to see;
let you, our fragile emissary
speak to an imperfect world.

Our Fragile Emissary--A Poem

Our Fragile Emissary
by Nancy Tupper Ling

With modern screening and such
they wonder why
you're here, on this earth
in our home
and in our arms,
after all, anyone
with any sense would have resolved
this problem of you
pre-birth, pre pain.

Blonde Beauty,
tiny as you are,
you catch their stares,
strangers' second glances
into tender baby blues.
And your young
sweet ears hear whisperings
("Down's," "defects")
words dropped loosely
at extra-chromosomed girls.

With such stinging receptions
how we long to shelter you,
surround you; keep your
gentle smiles to ourselves.
Instead, we hold you
up, for others to see;
let you, our fragile emissary
speak to an imperfect world.

A Note About Glee

I watch it. I watched it this week with Sara, who asked, Mom, are you going to blog about this? (as I had my face buried in a pillow, sobbing, when Sue went to visit her sister).

I love Sue Sylvester. She is the best character on television. Maybe ever.

I love Mr. Schuester and his mash-ups, Kurt and his dad, sweet Finn, the Cheerios, the hot guy with the mohawk :)...all of it. With the exception of the pregnancy story lines, and the show not being appropriate for young teens--who are watching in large numbers (I have to censor quite a bit with Sara)--there isn't much I don't like.

People have been talking about Glee all fall, and while some people can't get enough of it, others are critical. The show is meant to get people talking...and thinking. The people behind the show know just what they're doing. That became clear in this week's episode. (Click here for a review of the show.)

Regardless of gender, level of ability, social strata, sexual preference, diagnosis, age (and so on), all people are people first, and want to be treated like everyone else.

In life, just as in high school, people form opinions about others without all the information, without truly understanding all the facts. All people want--and deserve--to be seen, and to be treated with compassion.

*This week's show featured two actresses with Down syndrome. I know many people in the Ds community were aware of this prior to the show and watched because of that. Like most everyone else, I was curious how Ds would be portrayed, and how it fit into the story. It was hard for me to see that Sue's sister was in a nursing home, and I didn't love that others (without personal experience with Down syndrome) might assume that all people with Ds end up in nursing homes, or remain child-like and dependent. (The relationship between the sisters was genuine and touching, though, so my emotions were all over the place...hence, the sobbing...hard to process.) The younger character with Ds was a vibrant teenager, perhaps to show another aspect of life with Down syndrome today (I do wish she would have had her own money to buy the darned cupcake). As with everyone else, there is enormous diversity within the Ds population. Both characters are realistic and representative of individuals with Down syndrome. It will be interesting to see where they go with this.

A Note About Glee

I watch it. I watched it this week with Sara, who asked, Mom, are you going to blog about this? (as I had my face buried in a pillow, sobbing, when Sue went to visit her sister).

I love Sue Sylvester. She is the best character on television. Maybe ever.

I love Mr. Schuester and his mash-ups, Kurt and his dad, sweet Finn, the Cheerios, the hot guy with the mohawk :)...all of it. With the exception of the pregnancy story lines, and the show not being appropriate for young teens--who are watching in large numbers (I have to censor quite a bit with Sara)--there isn't much I don't like.

People have been talking about Glee all fall, and while some people can't get enough of it, others are critical. The show is meant to get people talking...and thinking. The people behind the show know just what they're doing. That became clear in this week's episode. (Click here for a review of the show.)

Regardless of gender, level of ability, social strata, sexual preference, diagnosis, age (and so on), all people are people first, and want to be treated like everyone else.

In life, just as in high school, people form opinions about others without all the information, without truly understanding all the facts. All people want--and deserve--to be seen, and to be treated with compassion.

*This week's show featured two actresses with Down syndrome. I know many people in the Ds community were aware of this prior to the show and watched because of that. Like most everyone else, I was curious how Ds would be portrayed, and how it fit into the story. It was hard for me to see that Sue's sister was in a nursing home, and I didn't love that others (without personal experience with Down syndrome) might assume that all people with Ds end up in nursing homes, or remain child-like and dependent. (The relationship between the sisters was genuine and touching, though, so my emotions were all over the place...hence, the sobbing...hard to process.) The younger character with Ds was a vibrant teenager, perhaps to show another aspect of life with Down syndrome today (I do wish she would have had her own money to buy the darned cupcake). As with everyone else, there is enormous diversity within the Ds population. Both characters are realistic and representative of individuals with Down syndrome. It will be interesting to see where they go with this.

Friends & Fun

Look who was here last weekend (it's Leah from Everyday Elliott!):





We had a lovely visit with the Elliott family (Mary, Eric, Greg & Leah) last Sunday night. Bridget and Leah are close in age (Bridget is about 6 months older than Leah), and are close in size. Leah is almost as tall, but much lighter than Bridget. And, for such a tiny thing, she puts away the food :).

The girls were sweet together. They both like baby dolls, phones, music and coloring. All of the other kids enjoyed one another, too!

A sweet and funny moment of the night: Leah's big brother, Greg, was delighted to find that we have a Captain America costume (and coloring book). He also discovered the big t.v. in our theater room and wanted to stay and watch a movie (of course, just as it was time for them to leave)...which brought about some tears...from Greg (genuine) and then from Leah (sympathetic) and then from Bridget (sympathetic). Greg was sprawled out in a bean bag, in the Captain America costume, in tears, with Bridget and Leah both fake-crying and also trying to console Greg and each other. Aside from Greg's tears, it was h-i-l-a-r-i-o-u-s.

We had a great time. Please come back soon, friends.


*Excuse the quality of the photos...my big camera is out for repair :(. We'll get more shots of the girls together next time!

Attention: Parents of Children with Ds

Are you interested in making a difference? Here's a terrific chance to do just that.

Lisa at Genetically Enhanced is working with the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) to re-create their web page on Down syndrome, and she's asking for detailed feedback from families of children with Ds. There's much work for her to do in a short period of time, so head on over and give some input....

Attention: Parents of Children with Ds

Are you interested in making a difference? Here's a terrific chance to do just that.

Lisa at Genetically Enhanced is working with the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) to re-create their web page on Down syndrome, and she's asking for detailed feedback from families of children with Ds. There's much work for her to do in a short period of time, so head on over and give some input....

"Germ Warfare"

So all this week, Chris kept asking, Is Bridget coming down with something?

No, I explained, her preschool class is learning about germs...what they are, how they spread, and how to practice healthy habits.

It must have made a big impact on her, because she was sneezing and coughing (in a very contrived, exaggerated way) every other minute this past week. (With all the crud going around, we are all a little bit on edge when we hear coughing!).

Bridget has known how to cough into her elbow for about a year now. She loves to practice covering her sneezes and coughs.

She's such a little actress. And her big break came this week, when she was asked by her teacher to demonstrate the "covering your cough" technique to the class during circle time.

Yea, Bridget. You go girl.

I wish I had pictures of that!

More Than a Number

My daughter has Down syndrome. She is not Down syndrome.

I usually cringe a little (sometimes a lot) when I hear or read a professional assessment of Bridget (from doctors, therapists, service coordinators or educators), because Bridget cannot be described by a certain number of chromosomes, by a list of health concerns, by a score on a standardized test, or by the answers to questions on a fill-in-the-bubble developmental inventory.

She is an amazing little girl who deserves to be seen as such.

Wendy echoed this thought on Zip-Perdue-Dee-Dah the other day:

I think what bothered me was that here we are at the start of the next chapter and to the powers that be Kira is a pile of paperwork and "Down syndrome". And while I have no doubt that they will love my daughter, it's not because she has Down syndrome. She's my smart, beautiful, funny daughter not a bunch of test results and check marks on a development chart.

Before Bridget's evaluations to see if she would qualify to receive preschool services and therapy through our local schools, I worried about the very same things. I didn't want to overwhelm school district personnel with volumes of information about Bridget, but I wanted them to see more about her than the limited perspective formal evaluations would provide. I knew the evaluations would detail Bridget's delays and areas of need. I wanted the team to see her many skills and abilities, to see that she is loved and cherished and supported, and to understand her huge potential. I wanted them to see her as a person. So this is what I sent in with her paperwork...

A Snapshot of Bridget at Age 3

Bridget is a social, sweet little girl who loves to explore, pretend, and laugh. She’s alert, expressive, playful, secure and spirited. She takes turns, consoles, and interacts with others.

Bridget knows just what she wants and how to get it. She communicates through a combination of signs, spoken words, sounds, gestures and facial expressions.

She understands most of what she hears, and remembers most of what she learns. She likes routines, but is also usually willing to try new things.

She’s generally agreeable, but has ideas of her own that she will make known. Bridget is affectionate and pays close attention to what is going on around her. She’s physically strong, and strong-willed.

She’s showing an interest in—and emerging skills in—counting, letters, recognizing shapes, drawing, running, jumping, enjoying books, large motor play, and spoken language.

Bridget is capable of so much and full of potential.

We look forward to seeing her grow and enjoy school next year!

Mission Statement For Bridget's Preschool Services

We believe that Life is a gift, and that Bridget is a gift. We believe that all people are always in the process of becoming--and that all people seek to find meaning in Life. We value Bridget as a person and as a family member.

As her parents, our goal is to be educated and able to make informed decisions about Bridget's care and to be the very best advocates for her in all arenas. We will approach her learning with creativity and dedication. We will work willingly with teachers, therapists, administrators and other care providers to create and carry out an appropriate plan for Bridget’s growth and participation in the classroom.

We’d like to see cues-based instruction whenever possible, or encouraging Bridget to acquire skills as she shows readiness (instead of "teaching" her from a pre-existing plan based on standard development scales).

Bridget is reaching milestones on her own timeline, and has her own set of talents and limitations. We’d like to pay attention to her gifts while offering her opportunities to grow.

We believe strongly in Bridget--in her abilities and potential--and in her right to be treated with love and respect. We realize that she will benefit from specialized services and are committed to giving her every type of support and encouragement to be as happy, healthy and independent as she can be.

Bumble Bee, Waiting for Bus

Every morning, Bridget waits for her bus with great anticipation. She LOVES her bus driver and her bus aide. We wait on the sidewalk in front of our house, which is about twenty paces from the front door.

I ask Bridget, "Do you hear your bus coming?" To which she replies, "Hear it. (I don't hear it)". When it begins to come down the street and around the bend toward our house (and she does hear it), she begins to jump up and down.

She claps and cheers, and I always think how great it must feel to be greeted like that on a daily basis. The adults on the bus always pull up with huge smiles. Today, they were greeted by a bouncing Bumble Bee:




I'll bet those antennae lasted all of two seconds once she got on the bus :)...

A New Infatuation

Emmy has one American Girl doll, a "my twin" doll that Santa brought her a few years back. She rarely plays with it, but has a renewed interest since she'll be attending a tea party with the doll soon.

She brought the American Girl doll downstairs with her this morning. Bridget's eyes lit up and she quickly rushed over to grab the doll from Emmy. When Emmy offered her the baby doll nearby instead, Bridget pushed it aside and again went to grab the American Girl doll.

Emmy let her have it, and Bridget was thrilled. She hugged and kissed that doll for two hours. She held her hands and studied her feet. She brushed her hair and examined her face very closely. I guess someone will be getting a toddler/girl doll for Christmas this year. Baby dolls are so 5 minutes ago :).

Overdue.

So yes, blogging has taken a backseat to everyday life. Here's what I've been doing:


...learning how to tie a tie! Okay, I really did have to use this photo tutorial to get Kyle's tie figured out while Chris was out of town, but I have been doing a few other things as well. Ahem.

How about a little update on Miss Bridget (with more to come soon...I promise)!

New things she's saying:

"Where cup? See it. (i.e., I don't see it.)"

"Hap-py Birth-day to Bridgey!"

"Cup, pwease."

"Map!" (which means...Max & Ruby, her new favorite show)

"Boy!" "Girl!"

"Hot!" "Cold!"

"I" "Me" "You"

"OKAY!"

"Moe Juice!" "Moe Nilk!" "Moe Cup!" "Mom! Cup!" This girl likes her drinks! And her cheese, but that is another story for another day :).

Overdue.

So yes, blogging has taken a backseat to everyday life. Here's what I've been doing:


...learning how to tie a tie! Okay, I really did have to use this photo tutorial to get Kyle's tie figured out while Chris was out of town, but I have been doing a few other things as well. Ahem.

How about a little update on Miss Bridget (with more to come soon...I promise)!

New things she's saying:

"Where cup? See it. (i.e., I don't see it.)"

"Hap-py Birth-day to Bridgey!"

"Cup, pwease."

"Map!" (which means...Max & Ruby, her new favorite show)

"Boy!" "Girl!"

"Hot!" "Cold!"

"I" "Me" "You"

"OKAY!"

"Moe Juice!" "Moe Nilk!" "Moe Cup!" "Mom! Cup!" This girl likes her drinks! And her cheese, but that is another story for another day :).

Posting, Interrupted :)

We're all fine here. Please forgive the lack of posts recently. I planned on posting every single day of October, but my computer had other plans :). We've had a few technology glitches, and then between birthday parties, basketball try-outs, and no-school days (plus the rest of our regularly scheduled activities), I just haven't been able to write something meaningful here each day.

I have been busy recently, though, thinking and talking about Down syndrome, even more so than is typical for me. I'll be back soon to talk more about that..

Inclusion

Inclusion is not a "favor" for students with disabilities. Inclusion is a gift we give ourselves, the gift of understanding, the gift of knowing that we are all members of the human race...

- Mara Sapon-Shevin

Inclusion

Inclusion is not a "favor" for students with disabilities. Inclusion is a gift we give ourselves, the gift of understanding, the gift of knowing that we are all members of the human race...

- Mara Sapon-Shevin

A Look Back: Starting Solids

Wow, these pictures bring back memories! I was nervous and excited to try solids with Bridget.

We gave her oatmeal cereal when she was about six months old. We then moved to apples and sweet potatoes within a few weeks. We used the small maroon spoons for her first year, and they were perfect.

Bridget did very well with stage one baby foods, cereal and yogurt (she had more trouble with crunchy and chewy textures--which I will cover in a future post--as she was not moving food from the sides of her mouth to "chew" with her gums...she had no teeth until she was 16 months old!).

I also cooked and pureed all kinds of squash, berries and other fruits and veggies as well as a wide variety of soups. We started giving her yogurt when she was about eight months old--Stoneyfield Farm O'Soy because I thought she might have a milk intolerance. (She still drinks soy milk today, although I have switched her over to regular, organic yogurt.)

Bridget has always eaten a wide variety of healthy foods. She has a great appetite and has never been picky about temperature or flavor, although she prefers seasoned or spicy foods. She has always done fine with different textures as well, although she did not like finding chunks of peaches in her yogurt and would growl when she got one :).

We moved from pureed baby foods to soft diced foods like banana and avocado, which she was able to finger-feed herself by the time she was about a year old.

Although we've had to take some extra steps to provide Bridget with a safe and nutritious diet, Bridget is absolutely worth it. I am happy to answer specific questions, so fire away if you have any!

Learning to Eat, Continued

In the months just after Bridget was born--when she still needed her milk to be thickened--I was able to express my milk and then safely let her "practice" nursing. We did this every day, at least once. She was almost always willing to try, and apparently got just enough hindmilk to keep her interested. Anyone who has been through continual pumping knows how much work it takes. It is truly a labor or love. Then again, so is attempting breastfeeding after months and months of bottle feeding (especially when you've been told your baby most likely will not be able to nurse effectively). I had a strong feeling that Bridget would be able to get the hang of it, though I couldn't imagine what it would be like to actually get to nurse her.

Once she was cleared for thin liquids, I began to transition her to breastfeeding by nursing once a day to start. Within a few days, she was nursing for all but her morning feeding (when she was the least sleepy and most hungry!). After about a week, she was nursing every feeding. It took some getting used to for both of us. Positioning was key, as were listening for her swallows and taking her off during let-down. After about a week, we were "working" less and feeding time became truly enjoyable. Within two weeks, there were no issues at all and she was nursing like a pro.

From my journal of Bridget's first year:

Life just got so much easier!

I can't believe Bridget is nursing! I was trying not to get my hopes up in case it didn't work out, but I have been waiting for this day since she arrived. I am overcome with emotion every single time I feed her.

Today the light was streaming through the window into our bedroom as I was feeding her, looking at her beautiful, sweet face and holding her little hand. (Bridget always holds my hand or shirt when she's eating). She is my chubby, gentle, sweet angel. Sometimes I can't believe she is ours. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world than where I am right now.

I took the last picture in yesterday's post the same day I wrote this entry. I wanted to always remember the sweetness and joy of that moment. It still makes me teary-eyed.

More on starting solids tomorrow...

A Look Back: Learning to Eat

We spent nearly a month at Children’s Hospital with Bridget, and those first few weeks were both exhilarating and exhausting. She recovered from her surgery quickly, and was ready to begin tube feedings within a few days later.

As is typical in a NICU setting, Chris and I had no input on “the plan” for Bridget’s recovery. But, as soon as I was able to spend time with her, my mothering instincts took over, and all I wanted to do was take care of her and protect her.

I noticed right away that she would turn her head toward me when she heard my voice, and that she would start rooting every two hours just like all of our other kids did as babies, only I wasn’t allowed to feed her (or even hold her at first).

The plan for her recovery was measured and prescribed according to stringent standards, for her safety and best interest. And while I understood that, I couldn't wait for the time to come when she had recovered enough so I could step in and take over for the doctors, nurses and machines.

Bridget began getting my milk through a tube in her nose about 5 days after her surgery. She tolerated that well, so she was given a bottle 2 days later. She made a few strange, high-pitched noises the first couple of times she ate by mouth, and while she started off vigorously, she tired after about 10 minutes. A video swallow study was ordered, which showed that she was aspirating slightly while she was eating. That’s why she would “shut down” after a certain period of time. She was trying to keep herself safe. We were asked to thicken her feeds with a clear, non-nutritive gel.

I had to express my milk, thicken it, and then feed it to her in a bottle. Essentially, the milk was so thick that it was like “sucking pudding through a straw,” as one therapist put it. She could not finish a whole bottle (one and a half ounces) in 30 minutes or less. Still, she had a strong desire to eat. We asked for more time for her to try to learn to feed by mouth, since she was showing so many positive signs.

“These kids,” one surgeon explained, “tend not to do well with feeding by mouth.” He felt strongly that she would either go home on a feeding tube, or would be back to get one at some point. After attempting only a few bottles, he asked our permission to “pop a G-tube in her, and get her home”.

To leave the hospital without a tube, he said, she needed not only to take full feedings by mouth, but also to prove she could gain weight doing it. He was concerned that she would expend too much energy eating, and would not be able to gain weight even if she could take the full amount at all feedings by mouth (which he also felt was highly unlikely). I don’t know that he ever really considered her, though. “This kid” clearly has the desire to eat, I thought, and I have no reason to assume that she doesn’t have the ability. At the very least, she deserves the chance to learn to eat.

So I learned early on that I would need to fight for Bridget—just as I’d do for any of my other children—only that there would likely be more circumstances when she’d need my advocacy.

At the time of this conversation with the surgeon, Bridget was just barely 36 weeks (gestational age) and had only been given bottles to try a few times. In addition to having Down syndrome, she was a preemie recovering from surgery, but she sucked like crazy on her pacifier and was rooting everywhere when she was near me or heard my voice. She was waking, hungry, every two and a half hours. If I was nursing her, I would have been feeding her on-demand. This kid wanted to eat.

We bought enough time in the monitored hospital environment that we were able to have the swallow study repeated. The second test showed that her swallow had continued to develop, and that she was able to safely handle liquid that was only slightly thickened. That, combined with the fact that she reached 37 weeks (gestational age), must have made a huge difference. She was waking for every feed and quickly began taking the full bottle every time it was offered to her. Still, she was limited in not only when she could take food by mouth, but in how much she could take. Working up to all feeds by mouth was a deliberate, gradual process.

I spent nearly two weeks around the clock at the hospital with Bridget working on feeding. There were times that our doctors insisted we feed Bridget through a tube in her nose, rather than by mouth, to conserve her energy. It made sense to some degree, but I watched her rooting while the nurse poured my milk into her feeding tube. Her instincts were strong and in tact, and it was very difficult for me to stand by and watch, when I should have been nursing her on demand, and at home.

When I was able to feed her by bottle, I often cried. I knew she was giving it everything she had. I could tell that she was working so hard to remember suck-swallow-breathe, suck-swallow-breathe. It must have been demanding on her little body to have to put forth so much energy to get the thickened milk out of the bottle. But, her effort was strong and her determination was clear. She was doing her part…

Sometimes (and usually multiple times within a feeding) she would fall asleep eating and would seem like she was completely done trying. I’d give her a few minutes and then try her again. With her eyes still closed, she would begin sucking like crazy. When she would slow to the point that I thought she would give up, I would rub her arm or cheeks and whisper to her, “You can do it. Just one more try.” With her eyes still closed and arms at her sides, she would vigorously begin again. It was endearing and hilarious at the same time. Just when you thought her effort was fading, she would pop back up and give it another try. She just blew me away.

One night we had a nurse with an accent so thick that I could hardly understand anything she said. This nurse was very attentive, and came in to wake me when it was time for Bridget’s feedings. She brought in each tiny bottle and stood quietly for a few minutes to watch. Bridget would start out great guns, and then gradually slow down and nearly stop. I had to coax her to keep at it, but I knew that every bottle we did not finish meant that we were either going to have to stay longer, or we were getting closer to that G-tube. Honestly, I would have done whatever was best for Bridget, but deep down I knew she was nearly ready to come home without a feeding tube. The nurse would leave and return about 20 minutes later. Each time, the bottle was nearly full when she left, and gone when she returned. Her smile got bigger and bigger with each feeding. She was clearly moved by our success. In the morning as her shift ended, she came into the room, leaned down beside me, touched my arm and said clearly and with great sincerity, “I think she felt in her heart…your wish for her.” I know she did... Bridget was able to leave the hospital just days later without medications, monitors, or tubes of any kind.

I expressed milk for Bridget for nearly five months, until she was cleared for thin liquids, when I began nursing her exclusively. The transition was a smooth one. After about a week, it seemed like she'd always been a breast-fed baby. I nursed her until she was 18 months old.

More on that--and on beginning solids--tomorrow.