And here is the difference that Down syndrome makes:
Belly sleeping must be something genetic. From me to Ellie and now Tessa… we love it. As Ellie has grown, she has embraced more of a “pass out sprawled as awkwardly as possible across the entire bed” approach to sleeping. However, I still remember finding her sweet little diapered butt sticking up sky-high in the crib when she was an infant. There are pictures, gobs of pictures, washed out in the terrible flash of an iPhone camera. It was just darling.
(On a side note: how did we function before digital cameras?)
Tessa, too, loves the comfort of belly-sleeping. But finding her with her knees tucked under her butt, rather than sprawled flat on the mattress, gives me a markedly different reaction.
It’s monumental.
It’s me rejoicing – she can! She can!! She can bring her knees up under her body. She did it!! The practice is working! Miss Kate and Miss Rachel (OT and PT) will be so proud! I’m so proud!!
Every milestone is a rockin’ celebration. I don’t even get pictures of this stuff because I’m too excited to consider a camera. Yesterday, Tessa found herself in the mirror during her bath. I don’t have a clue when Ellie first stumbled upon her reflection, but yesterday, I sat and stared in awe while our little peanut shyly smiled at herself.
Monumental.
This is the challenge now, when there is a child born with obstacles… reacting appropriately to the successes of others. Everything that other kids just kind of figure out takes her so much more. And so commiserating when the momma of a typical child impatiently wonders when her child will be able to XYZ… it’s hard for me, okay? It is. It just is.
And now, cuteness:
Yo soy La Lay 
Tessa is so stinking cute, I could just eat her up! Of course Miss Ellie is too! You are so lucky!
“And so commiserating when the momma of a typical child impatiently wonders when her child will be able to XYZ… it’s hard for me, okay?”
I get it, oh how I get it.
I’m part of a Mama’s facebook group where Mums of neurotypical babies were talking about fretting over milestones and how quickly or slowly their babies were hitting them. But they were all hitting them, even if it was a few weeks or months later. I had to hold back my fingers from typing something along the lines of, “you should all be so grateful!!”. I know every parent must have their worries, and it’s all relative. But it really is a different situation. And very difficult to watch that kind of conversation.
I just want to shake my head and say “Calm down. It doesn’t even matter.” But of course, I don’t. Because it matters to them. Just like, I suppose, how it matters to me, only in a totally different way.
As an aside, Tessa is just the cutest poppet. Love that smile! So cheeky!
I completely understand. The milestones are celebrations of hard work paying off. They are huge because of this. Way to go Tessa!!!!
I understand in a way. I can never say that I totally understand, since my daughter doesn’t have Down’s Syndrome, but I understand celebrating the milestones. Whe Juli came home this spring and showed us how she could do one hop on one leg without holding onto the wall, I wanted to throw a parade. People didn’t think it was a big deal because it was only one hop and she was almost 5, but to us it was huge. So you celebrate EVERY milestone. Go Tessa, go!
Yea! A new milestone deserves a celebration! Thanks for sharing.