My life is about to change again…not in a dramatically big way, but enough for a sensitive person like me to stress out.  Starting next week I will officially have 2 children in two different schools and my third with Down Syndrome will be getting visits from a home teacher once a week.  Figuring out how to get 2 to 3 kids ready on any given day to head out before 8 o’clock is like figuring out a word problem…and I was never good at word problems. It doesn’t help that with all my best motivations, I’m not a highly energetic-multi-tasker type. I am starting to calculate how much time I will need for each kid to get up, get dressed, eat breakfast and at the same time get myself ready, nurse the baby and get out the door.  And I must calculate in the “extras”, like potty trips, dirty diapers, blowing noses, clothes not matching, etc.  All this being said, the only thing that brings me relief is the belief that it always works out and there’s not much I can do about it today.   

What brings me down the most is anticipating that something will not work out. Unfortunately it comes pretty naturally for me to think about worst case scenarios.  Playing out outcomes a, b, or c is what I call “Future Tripping” and I’ve done it since I was a kid. So many wasted hours worrying about how things are going to work out and what others are going to think.  I used to be painfully shy and socially awkward.  I can’t tell you how many times I’d get all tied up in knots anticipating events that I felt obligated to show up to.  I’d spend weeks thinking about what I was going to wear, who’d I’d talk to, worried if I was too boring or too odd.  When the event time would actually arrive and I’d sometimes go (if I didn’t talk myself out of it) and I’d almost always wonder in hindsight why I got so bent out of shape. Yes, there were times where I felt uncomfortable, but then I would assume that every outing after that would be the same.   

I think about Sadie regarding this matter because when we found out about her have Down Syndrome when I was pregnant I anticipated the worst.  I thought my life was going to be hard and miserable from then on out.  How wrong I was.  I am having the opposite experience with Sadie now.  She is the easiest and happiest baby I have ever met.  She’s healthy, calm, so sweet and makes everyone smile.  My eyes have changed along with my heart. This shows me that I don’t know much, and when I think I’m right about something I know now I could be wrong.  I’m much more open-minded.  I’m not as worried about how things are going to turn out because I know that either my circumstances will change OR my attitude.  Either way it’s all going to be okay.  Now when I see and know something is coming up, I try to put it out of my mind (unless there are plans I need to make) and live in the moment.   

Someone once told me if you have one foot in yesterday and another foot in tomorrow then you are pissing on today!  Today is good.  I’m sitting here and picking up my writing again after starting this article a few days ago.  Sam went back to school today and after more thought I decided to reach out and ask another mom if she’d be willing to pick Sam him up so I wouldn’t have to get the other two ready so early and they could sleep a little longer.  So all my calculations and planning got to go on the back burner…for today.  Worry and anticipation get me nowhere.  Today I will leave the future in God’s hands right where it belongs and trust the process…it keeps working!

 

As the winter months are nearing I am having more and more days that I feel like a bear more than a human.  I understand hibernation completely.  Something physically comes over me and my body, mind and soul are screaming to slow down, stay warm and gather energy.  There’s a chill in the air, the overwhelm of the holidays and sick days ahead can make me want to pull the covers over my head and just not deal.  I have less to say and my brain seems to function only when I have been rested and relaxed.  This is partly good.  Solitude is good for everyone in measured amounts.  After some good naps I can take on a bigger load with lots more umph to power me up.   

Back in the day I used to call my alone time “solitude”.  I didn’t feel like I had a purpose in the world and hung out a lot by myself; on the couch eating bags and boxes of whatever I could get my hands on.  I claimed that my life was good, but in reality I was just isolating myself from the rest of the world so I wouldn’t have to deal with grown-up real life situations.  I became a loner and my life in my four walls was way more important than any of the people in my life.  I only had to think about myself and what I wanted to do for the day.  I had no clue what was going on “out there” in the big, big world.  Found out later that I was just full of fear that kept me glued to the couch.  I was afraid of all that life had to offer, or that I that I actually couldn’t handle what life had to offer.  It was easier just to sit alone and fantasize about movie-like scenarios and hope that one day the knight in shining armor would gallop into my living room, sweep me off my feet and take care of me for the rest of my life.   

My small life eventually started to crack because even my fantasies were starting to back fire.  All I would end up doing was resenting the characters on TV and being jealous that my life was not like theirs.  I started to believe that these soap operas were real life and where was mine?  So to me, this is the epitome of isolation.  Having conversations with TV, food and inanimate objects is just no way to live.  After reaching my breaking point I sought out help and started to learn about fear, doubt and insecurity.  These flaws in my character had kept me withdrawn from the world and were not real.  When I was able to identify the difference between feelings, thoughts and actions my life started to move beyond my four walls.  Scary as it was in the beginning, I began to take the baby steps necessary for me to catch up to my actual age (although I hope to never lose my child-like playfulness!)   

I have made up for lost time in the past few years and do not let myself isolate anymore.  I am living out my fantasies and they are way better than all the drama in my surreal TV world.  The realities of my life make me feel like I’m just part of the human race.  It feels good to have a purpose of being a wife and a mother.  It feels good to contribute to society and feel worthy of it.   

I still like alone time.  I get some every day, sometimes a couple times a day.  I carve it out, just for me.  I check in and re-assess my plans, thoughts and behaviors.  Then back to the world.  I like my own company so I don’t always need to “check out” when I’m alone.  Solitude is my time to rejuvenate my entire being.  I don’t want to crawl out of my own skin.  The guilt is gone when I curl up with a warm fuzzy blanket and funny socks during the winter.  I am free to sleep, rest and pray knowing that the time will soon come to participate in my world again.  The balance is good and I’m grateful to sense the difference between isolation and solitude. 

 

We have a love fest going on in our home.  My little Down Syndrome babe has penetrated my heart so deeply I can’t even begin to explain it…but I’ll try.  I feel like I get a high every time I see her.  Her little Down Syndrome features have actually become adorable to me as I watch her sleep, cry, nurse, roll over, smile…I take it all in just like it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her.  I am in awe of her.  I am amazed I get to keep her.  I am so proud of what Todd and I have created.  I want to show her off to the world.  I find myself bragging about her and missing her when I run an errand without her. 

 

What the heck happened to me?  This may sound silly, but if you didn’t read The Perfect Mistake, what I talked about in there explains most of it.  When I first found out I was carrying a baby with Down Syndrome I was devastated.  This was the left shoe dropping in my world.  I thought about abortion and adoption around the clock.  I was influenced by a close family member to terminate the pregnancy and labeled us “masochists” if we carried to term.  The odds seemed to be stacking up against me to choose to keep her, but when the last “safe” day to have an abortion came I had already listened to that still small voice that guided me to love my child unconditionally. 

 

But even after I knew I was making the right choice, my doubtful thoughts kept telling me that I probably wouldn’t love her the same as my others and would only feel like I had two and a half children…like she just wouldn’t count.  That may sound horrible, but it’s where my head went quite often.  So with all my doubts and fears I had her anyway and thank God I did.  I can’t imagine my life without her.  One of my worst nightmares has turned into one of my greatest blessings.  I was never able to look at people with special needs in the eyes before.  I called myself an artful dodger of the elderly, the sick and the disabled.  I know now that is was fear.  Fear of getting close to someone and then losing them.  Fear of what to say and how to say it.  Fear of being uncomfortable and awkward.  Fear that I might “catch” what they have.  I was one of those people who had the attitude that “it won’t ever happen to me”.  Well it did and I love to talk about what’s happening to all of us as a result of it. 

 

What Sadie is already teaching me is how self-centered and vain I have been.  Looking into her eyes has melted my heart.  And although I have embraced and accepted my little one, I am still amused by occasional random thoughts that throw me a curve ball.  Last month at her well check doctor appointment, her head measurements were now on the Down Syndrome growth chart.  That was the first time since her diagnosis that I had heard that she was different than a normal baby.  My first thought was, “you mean she hasn’t outgrown this yet?”  I actually gave myself a chuckle.  It just made it more real and then the thought left as quick as it entered. 

 

I can’t believe I ever thought that she would just take up space.  I am now walking in the world with new lenses.  It feels so good to look at people now without thinking they are better or worse off than me.  My fear is leaving and I’m becoming more available.  My husband and I have become even closer and we are experiencing much more deep and meaningful conversations. Sam and Sophie are pouring on thick layers of love and adoration for their “cutest and most precious” Sadie. Even my family member who was at one point extremely negative and pessimistic has come around full circle.  People come over just to check her out and I think might be just as amazed as I am (I know this really couldn’t be, but I’d like to think it is anyway). 

 

Maybe I can change the mind of just one person to think differently about bringing a Down Syndrome child in the world.  Maybe not.  It’s not up to me and to be honest, I don’t really care right now.  I’m still just reveling in the fact of how much I love this being and so grateful that my heart changed right when it was supposed to.  If you’ve ever heard, “Don’t quit before the miracle happens”, then I can tell you I feel this applies to me.  If you ever need a pick me up then come on over to the house with the Down Syndrome kid.  A friend said that Down Syndrome children have the “sweet gene”.  How true is that!  It’s just impossible to stay mad, sad or negative with Sadie around.  She knows more than most of us at the grand ‘ol age of 4 months.  I can’t wait to get more lessons from her as we grow up together.   

Nap time is standard around here. Doesn’t matter how old or young you are, if you come into our home, you will be taking a nap…No, not really. But close to it. I am a professional napper.  I have always enjoyed napping, no matter how much sleep I get at night (or lack of).  Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever out grew naps from when I was a child.  Not sure if it’s in the genes or maybe having a chronic illness has had something to do with it, but I still love to nap. 

Even before I got married, I warned my husband that not only is nap time a pastime for me, but it is a given.  Funny thing is that he is the exact opposite.  Todd, for the most part, is like an easy-going version of the Energizer Bunny.  The only thing he resents in life is that he has to sleep.  He feels like he’s missing out on life when he’s sleeping.  I rarely see him needing to slow down, but when he does it’s because he really is burnt out and can’t go on another minute.  I, on the other hand, sometimes feel like a 1000 lb wet rag is over me when I don’t nap. This doesn’t happen all the time, but when it does, I never feel guilty because when I wake up I am refreshed and ready to go for the rest of the day.

I’m like a different person when I’m rested.  It’s right around mid-day when Mrs. Crotchety Beast can appear.  I physically feel my energy level drop and the negative thoughts start to invade my head.  I notice my impatience and intolerance creep in.  The glass becomes half empty.  I start to see devil horns arise from my little angel’s heads.  One of my best friends calls this, “Bad Mind”.  In other words, I can just go a little insane.

When I was pregnant with my first I was so anxious that I’d have to let go of my naps.  Well, lo and behold, I gave birth to a napper just like myself!  Sam is now over 5 and still naps (most of the time).  And when he doesn’t, just like his mama, he is quiet for an hour or two and this in itself is a gift from the heavens.  It helps sometimes to set a timer or clock alarm and let him know that when it goes off, he can get up from his rest and play or do something quietly.

When I got pregnant with Sophie I thought for sure that the end of naps was near.  Then out pops another napper! And so my naps continued, gratefully.

The only issue on the table was how to get them to nap at the same time. I knew that I had to push Sophie’s nap out until after lunch so they weren’t staggered. I think she was around 18 months when she stopped napping in the morning and I just kept her entertained until the afternoon arrived. Now she gives me 2 -3 hours. 

Ms. Sadie came into the picture almost 4 months ago. Did I have to let go of my naps now, you wonder? I think NOT.  Not completely at least.  Yes, there are definitely days when as soon as one goes down, the other pops up. I’ve gone days where I only get a cat nap in for around 20 minutes, and I am finding that to be just as refreshing.  And of course there are the days when my nap window dwindles to nothing and I’ve missed it completely.  There are also days that I’m just not motivated to keep the littlest one up long enough to rest when the others do. For those times I still take extra quiet time and try to get grounded again. 

I am much more efficient when I’ve rested and believe that sleep can actually heal many physical and emotional ailments.  As far as I’m concerned I’m going to push naps and rest time as long as these guys (and gals) are living under this roof.  It’s good for the mind, body and spirit.  Cranky kids and cranky mommy don’t make for a fun time.  I’d rather miss out on an hour or two of life and have an awesome good attitude for the rest of the day, then have to go to bed feeling exhausted and miserable about shouting at the kids or not enjoying their company.

With all this talk about nap times the irony is that I’m also more relaxed about them missing naps every so often. When we’re out and about and miss naptime, I at least know an early bedtime is near which is great for the hubby and me.  I just trust and have experienced that we’ll all catch up on sleep at some point.

Napping is part and parcel of being a kid.  It’s also imperative for this mommy.  When Daddy whispers, “Shhh….mommy’s sleeping”, we all know that the “new” mommy is about to emerge and love on them just like they deserve.   

I’m just going put it out there:  I’m completely obsessed with hair.  So for all you non-hair obsessed people, this might be the time to read another blog.  For you hair mama’s out there, this might just be for you…if you can take an entire article devoted to a little hair madness.

It used to be just my own.  Now I have three smaller heads to obsess on.  Sam, who was my first, was born with a full-on mullet and well, we just weren’t going to have that!  After a poor attempt to trim it myself at 2 weeks of age, I called a kid hair place and with much embarrassment asked if newborns were accepted as clientele.  To my surprise I learned I was not the first to have baby hair woes.  So there we were.  Sam was just about 2 weeks old sitting on mommy’s lap getting his hair trimmed in a salon designed just for him.   

I’ve always been about my hair.  Colors, cuts, hair products.  You name it, I’ve tried it.     It’s one of those obsessions that’s just not worth giving up, mostly because it’s too much fun for me and I still get a cheap (or not so cheap) thrill from a day in the salon.  You know how some people have parenting magazines or Good Housekeeping on display in their homes?  Not me.  I have Celebrity Hairstyles or 101 New Haircuts in plain sight for all to see.

It’s funny.  Here I am, having some major REAL life traumas and yet I still find time to catch up on the latest hair trends.  Even when it comes to scheduling my own doctor appointments (NOT my kids, thank God) I find myself putting much more energy to find babysitters for my hair appointments.  Hair over health?  Well, I’m actually not that bad and I guess it could be worse.  My preoccupation with hair is relatively benign as far as obsessions or addictions go.  My awesome husband who doesn’t hear “do I look fat in this?”, but does hear, “can you see my roots?” puts up with my hair woes as well. 

This energy going into my hair stems back to when I was an overweight kid and was always told I had a “cute face”.  From then on I just focused on my hair and makeup as to deflect any attention off my body.  Ironically, the weight is off, my confidence is back, but my hair obsession persists!!!!  Gratefully as I’m getting older and hopefully a little wiser, the extremes are less and less.  These days it might just be chunky vs. natural highlights, where as when I was younger it was more like shaved on one side with blue on another.

So, back to the kids.  Sophie came along a couple years after Sam.  Why can’t any of these babies have bald heads?  If they did I would have nothing to obsess over!  I had always loved those Gerber babies with bald or blond heads.  No mullet on her, but Sophie had an unruly head of black hair that you could do nothing with…except I found a way to even mess that up.  Yep, you guessed it.  I took a scissors to it one day because there were a few strays and I thought I’d just “clean it up”.  Well I just kept cutting and cutting until I looked like I had another baby boy on my hands and wound up back in the kid salon again.  Luckily they have never been scared by the scissors or the salon, probably because they have been around them since they were so little! 

And then there was Sadie.  Sadie’s the one that I found out at 17 weeks pregnant had Down Syndrome.  I had a hard enough time accepting this fact that I really had not even had a chance to think about what her head was going to look like. As Sadie’s head crowned I heard the doctors say…look at that blond hair!”  Was he kidding?  My DS baby girl has the perfect hair I’ve been wanting?  And to this day, Sadie’s head has gone untouched by scissors (this is a small feat for me…3 WHOLE months with no haircut!)

Every day, Sadie continues to amaze!  Before she was three months old, she began to roll over (and she’s my “compromised” one!). While I was amazed and grateful for her persistence and ability, I must confess that I continued to watch for mussed up hairs after all her tummy time. Believe it or not I do get glimpses of my ridiculousness, but also consider my thoughts to be a small blessing.  I am very grateful, that I now simply view her as a perfectly beautiful child, who occasionally suffers from an acute hair crisis– just like my other two children. 

So my hair stories are alive and well. But it seems the more babies I have, the less time I have to obsess over anyone’s hair and the less I want to obsess on anyone’s hair.  Now I’m focusing more on school schedules, rest times, play times, family time and keeping up with the house.  Most importantly, I am focused on my children’s beauty, from the inside out.

As for the baby hair woes, I guess they are not really woes after all (especially when you find the greatest new baby hair gel on the Internet just like I did the other day…CHA-CHING!). The moment I see them fretting over their own hair too much is the time when I might have to take a look at my role modeling and do some more changing in that department.  I don’t let bad hair days affect my children’s lives (isn’t that what hats were made for anyway?).  Just going to keep being myself and trust that those kiddies are seeing through to all the goodness I can offer them. 

Ever feel like you’re going it alone in the parenting world?  Like you’re the only one that has the child that won’t listen the first time you ask for clean up to happen? Does it really take a village to raise a child?  YES! I don’t risk it and don’t believe in raising my children alone.  I started asking for help because of my chronic illness, but shortly realized that illness or not, I just am not one of these “natural” moms who can raise a balanced family successfully without lots of support, both mentally and physically. I fortunately have a husband who comes home every night and loves on the brood, but even if I didn’t, I would be taking advantage of anyone and everyone who crosses my path.  I know myself enough now to know that just having another person present when I’m parenting motivates me to be on my best behavior.  On a day that I’m tired and cranky especially, it’s nice to have another adult present, not only to give me an extra hand but for the company as well.  I think twice before yelling and getting impatient because I want to make a good impression when others are present.  That may seem like a cop out to some, but to me I’m just practicing preventive measures.  The more I practice patience, tolerance and love when others are around, the more likely I will remember how tactfully I acted then and be able to apply these same patient words when I’m alone with my kids. 

Three kids to be exact.  5, 2 ½ and 3 months.  Yes, I have my hands slightly full.  But everything works like a well-oiled machine. The villages I use to raise my children are mostly my mother and mother-in-law.  They couldn’t be more different, but what they bring into my children’s lives is amazing.  I often feel so grateful for having such balanced kids around me.  Every person who interacts with them regularly has amazing qualities that they are instilling in my kids.  My mom is the artsy, abstract Buddhist-type and lets the kids take the lead and she follows.  My mom-in-law is the Kindergarten teacher who gives them stability, love, tenderness and teaches them their ABC’s.  My husband and I are also opposites.  I’m the lay low kind of mom - full of cuddles, but love hanging out and being low-key.  My husband is a go-getter.  He loves the outdoors and brings the kids on many excursions.  I have a host of friends who like to spend time with them as well. The common thread amongst all the caregivers in our lives is love, consistency and stability. 

I trust my kids with anyone that I have in my life.  I feel like I’m doing them a favor by incorporating all these personalities into their daily living.  They know how to play, relax, work and give because I am showing them it’s ok to rely on others and be independent at the same time.  Solitude and quiet is just as important as socializing and communicating.  It’s all on in our household.  And like I previously mentioned I benefit from it as well.  Not only do I get a sounding board for my woes as they come up, like when my 2 ½ year old is resisting her nap, but I also get to watch how others “parent” my children and learn from them as well.  I often hear an expression I like to use in these times:  “take what you like and leave the rest”.  That goes for disciplining techniques, recipes for the kids, indoor and outdoor activities, etc.  I need to remain quite humble as a parent because left to my own devices I would pulling my hair out whilst screaming at my kids.  And the screaming can and does still occur.  But it’s so infrequent, mostly thanks to all these wonderful objective people in my life who think Sam smothering his baby sister’s head is “just so endearing”.  It’s so great not to have to try and be Super-mom.  Others in my life just lighten the load.  I don’t think we’re meant to go it alone and pick ourselves up by the bootstraps all the time.  Call me weak or whatever you like.  The results of using my village are working and it’s just a relief to know that my kids are being raised by the very people who cheer for them and all want them to experience health and happiness in their lives.  Isn’t that what it’s all about anyway?

I was living my idea of the picture perfect life.  One gorgeous husband, two beautiful and well-behaved children (one boy, one girl), nice house in suburbia, loads of family and friends around me and no major traumas or dramas I could think of.  We were now pregnant with our third and had just found out we were having another girl.  We named her Sadie. 

And then the dismal day of January 12th came.  It was 4:00pm and I was napping when my son Sam just crept in bed next to me to snuggle.  I had been awaiting results from an amniocentesis for a couple weeks.  The phone rang and the caller ID showed that it was the clinic at which we took the test.  I swiftly answered, excited to hear the good news (the ultrasound we had taken looked to be perfect and we had just decided for extra reassurance to get the amnio done).  What I heard on the other end of the phone changed my life in a matter of seconds:  “The results are positive for Down’s Syndrome.”  What the woman said after that I couldn’t decipher because my head and ears were buzzing and everything became very fuzzy.  I can’t even remember how we ended the call other than I wanted to throttle her for delivering such news to us.  Like it was her fault. I had to blame someone for this mistake. 

My head started pounding with literally hundreds of random thoughts:  This couldn’t be our news.  It must be the wrong people.  They must have mixed up the results.  After all, it was Christmas Eve when we took the test, so maybe the lab techs were drinking on the job and messed up the results.  Maybe we would be the 1 in 1000 that has the positive amnio, but our child won’t have Down Syndrome.  Get me to the nearest abortion clinic.  I’m outta here. Maybe I can have a miscarriage. Maybe I can take something to have a miscarriage. Maybe if I fall I can have a spontaneous abortion. All these thoughts flooded my brain. I tried talking myself out of this pregnancy a million times. Why did we have to go and try for a third?  How come I went and messed up our perfect little family?  Did I not eat enough organic foods?  Why couldn’t we have just stopped at 2?  We had our boy, then our girl.  Life was just getting manageable.  Then we went and ruined it.  Maybe I really never even wanted 3.  Maybe God is trying to tell me that this isn’t the right time.  What will others think?  People will feel sorry for us.  It won’t be fair to our other two.  How could this have happened to us?  Is this a punishment?  Have we been too arrogant or selfish in our lives?  The voices never ceased.  These thoughts plagued both my husband and me for months. 

I had a window of time to decide whether or not to keep this child and it wasn’t a huge window.  We had already named her.  Sadie was kicking in me like nobody’s business and letting me know of her presence.  I had loved being pregnant up until that point, and from the moment I found out about her “condition” until a couple months later I could barely look at my stomach and wanted to hide my belly with shame from the world.  I felt like I had a mistake living inside me.  She wasn’t going to count.  And then came all the tests.  At one point we found out she might have a bad heart and unattached esophagus. Well, then all bets were off.  There’s no way I will be living my life with someone so needy.  I can only handle so much.  It won’t be fair to my other two and what quality of life will she have anyway? 

All through this in my quiet times each morning I couldn’t deny this one small voice that kept jabbing at me.  But could you live with yourself if you gave her up because she wasn’t what you expected?  Because she wasn’t perfect?  Then something major happened.  After a seven hour study on Sadie at a well renowned hospital we found out her heart and esophagus were in perfect working order.  I found myself so relieved and do I dare say even joyous with this news about her health!  It was like my mind had shifted to; “Yay!!!  She only has Down’s Syndrome!”  Just months prior to hearing that felt like a death sentence.  Now DS sounded almost even mild.  What’s happening to me?  At one point I had even looked into adoption and came to find out that there were thousands of families’ eagerly awaiting to adopt babies and children with DS.  That got my mind working even more.  Why do all these families want these kids?  How could I possibly want to give away a baby just because it wasn’t “perfect”.  There are families out there that want her and believe she’s perfect just the way she is. 

The day came and went to be able to have an abortion.  We were keeping Sadie. I came to realize that the only thing that really was holding me back from wanting to keep her was fear.  Fear of the unknown.  Fear of what people will think.  But I knew that this “mistake” was no mistake at all.  I knew Todd and I could handle this.  We will be good for her and she will be good for us.  We like to pride ourselves on being people who love to love.  Unconditionally.  We also believe that we are here to learn and grow stronger.  

I started to feel cute again.  I subjected myself to you-tube videos with DS babies and children so I could desensitize myself and get used to what I’d be seeing and hearing on a daily basis.  Both Todd and I grieved our dream of a normal baby together and started to accept our little girl growing inside of me.  My close friends and most of my family were so supportive in our decision.  Everyone promised me I would fall madly in love with her when I met her, but I still was skeptical and fearful.  Will I look at her and wish she was normal?  Will I think she’s pretty?  Will I try and mask her looks and shield her from the world?  Will I love her as much as my other “perfect” children?  

Sadie came into this world on June 1, 2009.  It was the most beautiful birth I have experienced.  We were 100% ready for her and were so grateful that the grieving and sadness were behind us.  I looked down at her and she was just Sadie.  Yes, she has DS, but she wasn’t the flaw that I thought I’d see and experience.  She’s my perfect mistake and I don’t know what I would have ever done without her.  As my husband says, “we might have let go of what we thought was the picture perfect family, but now we truly have the perfect family in its place”.  I wouldn’t change one iota of who she is and can’t wait to find out what she’s all about.