Then Brenda was born.
And suddenly, our happiness came with a thousand questions we hadn’t expected.
Doctors explained that Brenda had Down syndrome. Almost immediately, Daniel and I were introduced to a world of tests, specialists, developmental information, possible therapies, future appointments, and conversations we hadn’t prepared ourselves to have.
I loved my daughter from the second I saw her.
But I was also terrified.
Not of Brenda.
Of failing her.
Every doctor seemed to have another piece of information we needed to understand. Every appointment created three more questions. During that first week, I often felt as though everyone else knew what we were supposed to do except me.
Daniel was overwhelmed too, although he tried not to show it.
Ben, strangely enough, wasn’t overwhelmed at all.
The first time we let him hold his little sister, he stared silently at Brenda’s tiny face.
I watched him carefully, wondering what he was thinking.
