Patrick

The first time I lay eyes on my wee boy, I knew he had Down syndrome. The eyes.

A pause too long and the doctor said, “You have a perfect boy.” I knew he wasn’t, but pretending was so much easier than facing what my heart and head were telling me.

The next day, Patrick and I were packed and ready to go when the doctor came in and shattered my perfect little world. I will never forget him looking at Patrick for a little longer than previously, and then asking, “Those eyes Gaye; Are they family eyes?”

“I don’t know” I replied, starting to crumple inside.

“We might just do a few tests, just to rule out a few things like Down syndrome.”

The tears started to fall and I have never felt so alone and scared. I phoned my husband. I couldn’t get anything out on the phone, I just cried.

Mike was at his sisters with our other two children. She told me she will never forget the look on his face during that phone call.

On the trip home from the hospital, I felt my heart and soul were broken. Mike said “We will move if we have to. We will go anywhere for this son. He will have the best. It will be OK.” His words meant so much to me.

Then it was telling everyone, dealing with their responses. I couldn’t face people, couldn’t deal with their pain as I was struggling so much with mine. I wanted to shut everyone else out. I wanted to lock the gate with a keep out sign and I didn’t answer the phone.

The test results came back showing Down syndrome on Friday the 13th. I crumbled onto the couch and asked Mike, “Where will I get the strength from? How can I carry on?”

I really didn’t think I could get through the day.

I felt humiliated, cheated and so angry. I was grieving for the baby I thought I was carrying for nine months. That baby had died and here was this other baby with a disability.

And for a while I wanted him to die. I loved Patrick but I didn’t want him; I didn’t want what he was bringing with him. I just wanted out. I remember wishing a car would crash into mine and then I wouldn’t have to face what I was facing. I also had a huge desire for another baby one day. I wanted to feel the joy and happiness of having a new baby which I never got with Patrick. I didn’t want to end motherhood on this note.

All through this Patrick fed so well, slept so well. He was a dream baby, so beautiful and to me so perfect.

Breastfeeding him was so important to me, I had to bond with him, I had to be there for him.

I would have really good days and really bad days. I read a lot about Down syndrome and other family’s stories which I found so comforting. Seeing Conor and Julia with Patrick helped me realise he was just a baby who needed everything any other baby would need. They carried on with life as though nothing was different which helped me do the same. Family and friends were there for me. Sometimes I would confide in them and sometimes I would shut them out; but just knowing they were there was so important. Some people I knew couldn’t look me in the eye, and some stayed away. I realise now how important a letter or phone call is, just “Hi, I’m thinking of you and your family.”

Patrick has just turned one. He is happy and inquisitive, a delightful little boy. Down syndrome doesn’t come into our lives very often nowadays. He sees a therapist once a fortnight and we go to a Down syndrome group once a fortnight but other than that life is no different than it would have been if Patrick didn’t have Down syndrome. I sometimes catch people staring at Patrick a little too long in the supermarket, but I look them in the eye and smile and my smile says, “Yes that is my boy and I love him to bits.”