The 24-Hour Rollercoaster

The call came in around 10AM.

And I sat with it until 6:30 that evening when Andrew got home.

I still can’t remember all I did to pass the time. I know I went to Target and nearly flipped out on an employee for telling me I was in the returns only line. Not my best moment. I sat at a coffee shop and attempted to do some computer work.

I remember standing in the kitchen and breaking down as soon as I saw Andrew come up the stairs.

Looking back, us finding out at different times was the best thing for us. I was processing, and Andrew was in shock, so he could comfort me. Hours later when the news sunk in for him, I was able to do my best to be there for him.

We didn’t sleep that night. We cried. We were angry. We were disappointed. We were confused. We felt every single emotion. Although it was raw, it was connected. We were somehow there for each other as we processed the news in waves and we just let ourselves feel whatever we were feeling in that moment. No one was critical of the other. We just listened. It still remains to be one of my most cherished memories even though it’s all a bit of a blur.

At some point that night, we had told a few friends. I don’t remember when or what we said. But I remember my best friend Cara letting me know that she was there to talk.

Andrew worked from home the next day, and I got out of the house in the morning. As I pulled into the garage, I called Cara. Through tears, my first words were, “I’m so sad.” Through tears she replied, “I know.”

During that call, everything switched for me. I wasn’t overwhelmed. I wasn’t sad or upset or angry. My attitude shifted. I knew it was going to be ok. I was going to have a kid with Down syndrome. My kid was going to be extra special.

Andrew was in-between meetings and met me in the kitchen as I walked upstairs.

He shared that he had been reading stories about people who found love. Who got married. And for Andrew, that was the shift for him.

I’ll never forget, Andrew had th ebeautiful idea to go to our favorite date spot that night, Buvette. He wanted to open a bottle of champagne and toast our sweet little bundle of Down syndrome joy and our soon-to-be family of three.