So I know it’s been a LONG time since I have posted, and though I feel there are many reasons for this…Busy life of a mom. Life being extremely normal, even boring at times, (I know!! How could life with Down Syndrome be normal?! 😉 Summer heat of Rome with no air conditioning means less time sitting at the computer. Wanting to spend every waking moment exploring Rome and finding hidden treasures with my adorable and quite entertaining babe. Months of endless visitors. I could go on and on. I think the main reason is that I didn’t feel like I could sit here and continue our family’s story, our journey, without telling the truth.

And the truth is something that for generations we women have NOT openly talked about. Something we have been told to keep private. Yet, something that happens to SO many of us.

The truth is that one week before Annie’s first birthday, I had a miscarriage. We were seven weeks and I know this is early and extremely common. I know this is exactly why doctors tell us to strongly consider keeping the news private until the magic 12 week safety mark (which we were planning to do, Mike and I and a very close friend here in Rome were the only ones who knew). I know that it could have been so much worse. That many women lose pregnancies at much later gestation, which I can’t even imagine. My mother lost her sixth pregnancy at 8 months and had to carry the baby in her belly for a full week before they could schedule an induction. I remember being ten and being so confused as to why my mother was crying and telling me that I wasn’t going to have a little brother or sister anymore when her belly was just as big as the day before.

I know that having a miscarriage without a baby at home and in your arms is a much harder pill to swallow. Though I feel extreme pain and loss, I have my Annie. I can’t imagine the women who have to go through this never knowing if they will ever get to hold a baby of their own. And the ones who have miscarriage after miscarriage, feeling so alone over and over and that they can’t talk about it; I cannot even begin to feel their pain.

I also know Annie is young and people might’ve thought we were crazy for having two babies so close in age. But the truth is, it is what we wanted, not only for us as parents, but for Annie. We know that a sibling close in age for Annie can do wonders for her development. We, both coming from extremely big and close families, believe that there is no greater gift to give your child than a sibling. Or in our world, a best friend for life. Though I know that we will most likely be able to make Annie a big sister in the hopefully near future, it doesn’t take away the pain we now feel. I also understand that you can’t always get what you want. And I feel that I understand deeply that the “unwanted” events in life can come with the most beauty and are often our greatest gifts.

And as a woman who believes that everything happens for a reason, that the hard things in life make us greater and teach us the most important lessons; that sharing one’s experiences can not only lighten the load, but can help others going through similar situations; I am choosing to share this experience. Though society might see it as the wrong thing to do or not politically correct or whatever. I am SICK of feeling alone. I am SICK of the other people in my life that are going through or have gone through miscarriages feeling alone, like something is “wrong” with them, with us. So I am sharing my story.

I lost the pregnancy four months ago. We would’ve been past the half-way mark and would’ve been getting ready for another bundle of joy to add to our tiny apartment in early November. But we’re not.

On Sunday March 24, two and a half weeks after we were definitely sure we were pregnant. After  two weeks of the first symptoms of constant overnight trips to the bathroom, insane magnified sense of smell, and pangs of nausea; I started bleeding. We were scheduled to see our OB the next day to see the heartbeat. Giorgia told us to relax, gave me strict orders to stay off my feet and that she would see us the next day at our scheduled time. She said that whatever was going to happen would happen, that we couldn’t stop it and to try to stay calm. I knew though. Just as I knew the second they placed Annie on my shoulder the moment she was born that she had Down Syndrome; I knew I was losing this baby. And it was SO much worse than getting a diagnosis of  Down Syndrome.

We went in in the afternoon the next day and my HCG levels indicated that I indeed had lost the pregnancy. Giorgia sat us down and told us not to cry. She rambled statistics and told us our grandmothers wouldn’t have even known they lost a pregnancy. That miscarriages are much more common than people think and that they occur in as many as 1 in 3 pregnancies. She told us I would probably bleed for 7-12 days and that we could and should try again next month. That I would most likely be pregnant again by May. I left the office feeling empty, sad and exhausted, yet much more at peace than when we walked in.

In the meantime, my husband was unavailable. He had serious deadlines for his dissertation proposal and it was important that he keep his work pace. He’s amazing, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that the miscarriage couldn’t have come at a busier time for him. We spent more time apart than together and felt a distance between us that we’d never experienced. Thank God for Annie. Her birthday was one week away, and though we were sad, we had SO much to celebrate. We threw a huge party and celebrated the amazing first year of our daughter. We focused on our MANY blessings and we tried to move on. I spent my days rocking and snuggling my beautiful babe. She got me through and we talked together of the day she would be a big sister  and all the adventures we would have as a growing family. I was fine, would be fine. I looked forward to the end of the bleeding, feeling like once it ended I could move on and focus on the future. But it didn’t stop.

A month later I was still bleeding. We went in to see Giorgia who demanded that we stop breastfeeding immediately. This was hard for me, because Annie doesn’t drink from bottles. We would try and try and she would go three days without drinking anything, and I would cave because I am her mom and it was scary seeing her not drink. Part of Annie’s having Down Syndrome is low muscle tone, which contributes to feeding issues. I am sure it was a combination of this and a stubborn baby who just wanted her mom.  We focused on the fact that we would have to stop eventually anyway. We tried every type of bottle, sippy cup, you name it, she only could drink from me. Fast forward another 2 or 3 weeks…still bleeding and finally stopped nursing. Annie doesn’t drink anything for 15, yes FIFTEEN, days. She stayed hydrated solely on pureed food. This was stressful to say the least. The bleeding continued.

We went back to the doctor and had our upteenth ultrasound which showed nothing and suggested that the continual bleeding was hormonal or from the stress. Fast forward another two weeks, still bleeding. Though I hadn’t nursed in 5 weeks my doctors believed it could still be hormonal. Yes, at this point multiple doctors were involved to crack the case. By this time I could’ve performed the fancy ultrasound myself. I am not angry with these doctors, as I watched them look and order higher definition ultrasounds on more than one occasion, I knew they were doing everything they could. There was nothing. And they wanted to avoid a D& C, even more, I wanted to avoid it.  I was put on the pill to regulate hormone levels and told the bleeding should stop. It didn’t.

All this bleeding got me thinking. And I have decided that when a woman has to go through the extremely terrible experience of a miscarriage, they should be thrown a huge party. A “New Underwear Shower.” That women who have to go through this should be showered in new, fun, sexy, feel good underwear to replace the underwear that will forever be stained and remind them of the baby they lost. That they should not have to replace these pieces alone, but their friends should pitch in by purchasing one pair to help us move on. The same friends that, had a miscarriage not have taken place, would be throwing us a baby shower. I mean, we need this kind of support at sad times too, right?  Just a thought.

But back to my story.

Because of all this bleeding I was finally, two weeks ago, scheduled for a scope. They would put me under anesthesia and use a camera to look more closely just to make sure they weren’t missing something. I went in on a Monday morning at 7:30 and was given an overnight room, though I would be leaving early that afternoon. I met my anesthesiologist who spoke English, mega plus. I was wheeled up to surgery and couldn’t help but think, “YES! Maybe this will mean this is finally over and we can move on.” That maybe it WAS nothing and once I heard that it was nothing my stress would diminish and the bleeding would stop. I tried to keep my mind off of the bleeding. As I laid in the surgery prep room awaiting my turn I just watched everyone coming and going and tried to eavesdrop on the Italian conversations around me. I couldn’t believe that a hospital existed that looked exactly like the ones on television. EVERYONE, every single employee at this clinic, is stunningly beautiful. And maybe it was the drugs, but I couldn’t stop telling every doctor and nurse that came in that this is the best looking group of medical professionals I had ever seen.

After a procedure that took about an hour, I woke up and Giorgia and another OB (he was also there when Annie was born) came to talk to me. They had indeed found something. They performed a D&C and removed it. They were running a biopsy and we would find out in a week or so. It could be something serious or there was a possibility that it was fetal material left from the pregnancy. They also had to remove something from my cervix, they sealed the wound. But more bleeding was expected. They told me to try to sleep and that I would go home in about an hour.

I will leave out the gory details, but the decision was made to keep me overnight because Giorgia could sense that Mike was nervous about the amount of bleeding he was seeing. Mike helped me to get as comfortable as possible, brought Annie in for a kiss and then headed home. At 9:30 p.m. I asked him if he could get a sitter and come back because I was really uncomfortable and couldn’t sleep because I kept bleeding through everything and it wasn’t easy trying to fall asleep laying in puddles. The nurses changed shifts right before Mike got there and they both couldn’t speak English, but I saw the concern in their eyes. Mike arrived around 11 and not ten minutes later in walked my two OBs. They had been called in from the comfort of their beds. They pulled the sheets back and realized they would have to move me in order to see what was causing the hemorrhaging. Luckily they got there in time. They wheeled me down to a pitch black and closed clinic so they could put me in stirrups. They spent 20 minutes soaking up blood so they could even see what was causing the bleeding. They then informed me that the wound at the top of my cervix had opened and that we didn’t have time to wait for anesthesia. That they would have to give me stitches right there while I was awake. I have never felt more pain than I did in that office. Mike and I held hands as the doctors “fixed” me. And we cried together for the first time since we lost the pregnancy. Once they were finished I fainted. It was the most traumatic and painful thing I have ever experienced in my life. A week later Giorgia called to tell me that it was indeed fetal matter and that we didn’t have anything to worry about as far as cancer or something serious.

For the first time in over three months, I finally feel like myself again. I no longer feel empty. I don’t feel like there is something wrong with me. I feel like it’s over, FINALLY. And we can move on. Though it was a terrible experience, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, and maybe some would argue that I should feel angry, that it should’ve been taken care of earlier so I didn’t have to go through this for so long. I am at peace with the sequence and dragging on of events. I will forever remember how in that moment holding Mike’s hand while I felt every stitch, how close I felt to him. That though I was the one enduring the physical side of things, we were going through this together. And I know it has made us stronger. The distance once present has disappeared.

I want women who have experienced this to know that they are not alone, that there is nothing wrong with them. That if keeping it to themselves helps them that is just fine; but that sharing my loss, the small act of sitting and writing this is helping me enormously. It is helping me to let go. It is helping to validate the emotions I have felt. At the very least, getting it of my chest and sharing it is making me feel better.

I don’t know why hard and sad things happen in our lives. I only know that we have a choice in our reactions to them. After going through what most would think are two “hard and challenging” things in under a year and a half. The birth of a daughter with Down Syndrome and the loss of a pregnancy with complications. I can assure you that the prior is a piece of cake.

Some people believe that having a child with Down Syndrome is a terrible thing to go through. That terminating a pregnancy of a baby with DS is the best decision. I have had people ask me why I didn’t have testing, and how could I have been so irresponsible? (This really happened)  That the quality of life decreases with the presence of an extra chromosome in the family.  I am not the one to judge their opinion or choices. It is not my place. But I would like them to be aware, to know that there are much more terrible things. And if they can look into my world, and the worlds of other families who have been blessed by Down Syndrome, they will realize that we won the lottery. That by chance, our lives are different. But that difference enriches our lives in a way we couldn’t have dreamed.  That with Down Syndrome, and the lessons, laughter, and inspiration these beautiful individuals bring, the world is a much better place.

Our experience of loss through miscarriage  is 100,000,000 times worse. I am glad it is over. And so blessed that I have my beautiful baby girl. We are ready to move on and to catch up on The Amazing Adventures of Anne Kathleen! There are many, many happy reads ahead.

One year ago today, at 6:59 p.m., I received the greatest gift of my life in a tiny 2.8 kg / 48cm package. This gift came with a little more than I was expecting and has brought more joy into my life than I could have ever imagined. Annie, your first year has been the most significant of my life. I love you so much. Tanti, tanti, tanti auguri!

I wrote this post back in September when I first started this blog. For some reason I never posted it. Maybe because it’s hard to share your most intimate dreams and feelings with the world. Anyway, here it is….

When Annie was born, as I am sure all first-time mothers are, I was completely overwhelmed.  But for me, this wasn’t a feeling I was expecting. Maybe I was naive, maybe not. I was never worried about becoming a mother because it was the one thing I knew I was born to do. Since I can remember, my biggest dream was to become a mother. This may be because I grew up with one of the world’s best moms. I am sure you’d also have to factor in being the oldest of six kids. Growing up, my life was always surrounded by so much love and I knew I wanted to pass this love on to my family. Regardless of the reasons though, I knew I was meant to be a mother. ALWAYS. No doubt. There are people I know who are moms that I aspire to be like, who couldn’t even picture themselves as mothers before pregnancy. It just wasn’t something they thought of until the time came. Not me. I thought about it all the time.

Though I wasn’t in a hurry and was happy to wait for the “one,” I knew it was in my future and I was excited for the day when I would become a mom. I met Michael on a cold February night in Philadelphia (another topic for another day). It didn’t take us long to “know” and we were wed just a little over a year later. We immediately started trying to start our family and after what seemed like a very long year of trying, found out we were pregnant during a going away party for us less than twenty-four hours before Michael’s departure to our new home in Rome. Just one week before our first anniversary. Wow, what luck! Moving to Rome and starting our family. How exciting could life get? It sounded perfect to me. I was ready. No strange new land, language barrier, crazy Italian pregnancy rules could scare me. I wasn’t worried about becoming a mom, or about how my life would change. I was thrilled. I couldn’t wait to get that baby in my arms and start doing the thing I knew best, that thing that’s been deep inside me since I can remember…MOM. My confidence, I am sure, is something a lot of pregnant women experience. But I know a lot of pregnant women who are scared to death throughout their pregnancies. Normal. Not me, I was ready. This job was meant for me.

It’s crazy though how God knows just what he’s doing. I had known all along I was meant to be a mother. I just hadn’t factored in the “to whom?” part, the tiny person for whom I would be chosen to be responsible. Annie was chosen for Mike and me, and us for her. It took me a while to realize this.

In the beginning I was devastated. I’m not going to get into how I felt because most of you have read about my initial reactions to Annie’s diagnosis in my previous posts. In short, I was really sad and really worried for what this all meant for my precious baby girl and for my family and for my dreams of becoming a mom. All of my family and all of my friends were constantly searching for the right words to bring me out of my slump, my devastation. The words I heard most were “God picked Mike and you to be her parents” and “I couldn’t think of a better family for a her to be born into”. But in those first few weeks no words could undo my hurt or lessen my fear. This wasn’t the job I had been prepared for. For the first time in my life, as I held my hour old baby in my arms on my hospital bed in a country so far from home, I was terrified of being a mother. I didn’t understand what was happening. This wasn’t what I imagined. But then again, how often is life what we imagine?

In those first days of so many tests, watching my baby being poked and prodded, and given endless possibilities of health issues Annie “could” have, I became so overwhelmed. I couldn’t see a bright future for my baby or my family. And then I got home and started researching like crazy. This, of course, only made it worse. “Your child will need XYZ therapies, will have more difficulty communicating, potty-training, eating, etc. etc. etc……” I cried myself to sleep almost every night for the first four or five weeks. I was devastated because of  all the overwhelming challenges Annie and I would have to face together. And then one night around 3:30 a.m., in the midst of one of my crying fits, it came to me. Colleen, all you have to do is love her, and you’ve already got that down. For as any parent knows, there is no greater love than the love we feel for our children. Isn’t that what our jobs as parents are really all about? Love. So what if she might not walk for the first years? Love her. So what if she takes longer to get out of diapers? Love her. So what if she never talks perfectly? Love her.

Annie is easy to love. Her happiness, warmth, and love shines through her at all times and is completely contagious. I have the best and most rewarding job in the world. Loving my daughter.

Now I look back and am ashamed that I was ever even remotely devastated by the challenges Annie and I will face. Now I see facing these challenges  as our journey together. Raising any child will have it’s challenges. That’s our job as parents. To accept the inevitable challenges, to help our children overcome the obstacles they face, to provide them with the best opportunities for growth, to instill in them good and true values, and to love them unconditionally. I get, no, have been blessed with, the gift of a baby that needs a little more than the typical child. And realize each day I spend with her that God really does know what He’s doing. My dream of becoming a mother has come true and it’s better than I ever imagined.

So I have been pretty overwhelmed lately by the catching up I have to do on The Amazing Adventures of Anne Kathleen. Every time I sit down to write, I don’t know where to start because we have done so much. So instead of staring at the many posts I have started to draft and not knowing where to pick up, I have decided that today I will share all the places our little Annie has been in her first ten months.  Yes, tomorrow Annie will be 10 months! I can’t believe it, it feels like yesterday we were bringing her home from the hospital.

In her first ten months, Annie has been on 15 flights. Yes, FIFTEEN. Eight of these flights have been over the Atlantic Ocean. She’s pretty much a professional by now. On her last trip back to the States for Christmas, toward the end of the flight, one of the flight attendants stopped by and said “Well, this MUST be this little lady’s second flight, I’ve never seen a baby so well-behaved on such a long trip before.” When I responded, “No, it’s her fourteenth,” the attendant’s jaw just fell to the floor. Whether it’s because she has lots of practice or just because that’s how our Annie is, she has not once fussed or cried on any of these flights. Knock on wood! She is a magnificent traveler and we need to keep it that way.

I will be posting about each of these places and our time there for my future posts. But for now, here’s Annie’s travel log….

In May Annie traveled to the Abruzzo region of Italy, one of the country’s most mountainous regions, east of Lazio, the region in which we live where Rome is located.

In June, Annie got to visit her mom’s favorite town in the Umbrian region of Italy: Orvieto.

When Annie was almost three months, on June 24th, she made the trip to the United States for the first time. She spent almost two months in Chicago.

In the beginning of August, Annie made her first road trip. She rode through Indiana, Ohio, and ended up in Annville, Pennsylvania, where she stayed for two weeks before her drive back to Chicago for her final week in the States. While in PA, she also ventured down to Baltimore to see the White Sox beat up on the Orioles, and to spend time with her aunt and uncle.

Annie was 5 months when she returned to her home in Rome. A couple weeks later she was on the Orientation buses with our students to travel to Todi, Spoleto, Gubbio, and Perugia in the Umbrian region of Italy, north of Lazio.

When she was 6 months, in October, she flew back to Chicago for her Great-grandfather’s Memorial Mass.

Two weeks later she was on her way to Poland, where she visited Warsaw, Krakow, and Torun.

In November, she flew back to Chicago for three weeks for her mom’s best friends’ wedding and got to spend her first Thanksgiving in Chicago.

In December, she flew to Philadelphia to spend ten days with her PA family. Although her IL family decided to meet her there for a few days.

On the 15th of January, Annie joined the students for a taste of Tivoli and visited Villa d’Este.

She spent a long weekend from January 20-22, on another orientation trip to the Almalfi Coast where she visited Salerno, Pasteum, Agropoli, and Sorrento.

This girl has been on every form of transportation one could think of. Buses, trains, airplanes, boats, cars. She’s visited museums, aquariums, art galleries, baseball stadiums, castles, mountains, seas, ancient ruins, farms, and fortresses. She received the sacrament of Baptism at St. Peter’s Basilica and has danced to the traditional live music of Napoli. She’s strolled past the Pantheon on many occasions, checked out the Roman Forum, the Colosseum, and Trevi Fountain. She’s gone for a dip in the Mediterranean, gazed upon historic works of art, and sat in the old town center of the once devastatingly war torn Warsaw. She attended Mass in glorious cathedrals, watched the buffalo at a buffalo mozzarella farm, visited universities in the States, Poland, and, of course, here in Rome. She has sat on the Spanish Steps and taken in the views of magnificent hill towns and seaside cities.

I feel so blessed that we get to share the world with her. But I feel even more blessed that we get to share her with the world. Everywhere we go, EVERYONE falls in love with our precious baby girl.

Some people think that having a child with Down Syndrome alters the quality of life for the parents and the child. So far, I think her life and ours has been pretty darn quality if you ask me. Just look at where she’s been!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I am not sure which is a bigger deal…Getting over the worst bout of jet lag we have ever experienced OR the fact that my beautiful baby girl has begun to sit unassisted!

So, I am pretty new to this mom thing. For the most part, I feel pretty dang comfortable in the role. I feel like I have been waiting my whole life to become a mother. I felt pretty prepared for it all. However, in the past nine months I have lived with more worry than my previous 29 years. I knew this would happen, I just didn’t realize how much a mother worries. Is my baby eating enough? What’s that rash? How many times will I wake up tonight to poke her to make sure she’s breathing? Is this poop normal?

Add a diagnosis where doctors, books, therapists, society are constantly telling you your daughter will be developmentally delayed…and “No, we can’t tell you even a window as to when she will reach milestones, we don’t know if she will speak, etc. etc. etc….” As much as I try to live life day-to-day, trying to celebrate the present, and knowing that Annie will get there on her own time, there are days that I can’t help but worry with much anxiety and anticipation for the day that she can do the things we are working so hard to make sure she can do.

In the past three months, Annie and I have been from Rome to the US and back 3 times. I am not sure how many of you have experienced jet lag, but it’s nothing compared to having a jet lagged baby. With each trip, because Annie is getting older and sleeping less during the day, the jet lag worsens. Chicago is 7 hours behind Rome time, so when we return to Rome, Annie will be up til around 5 or 6 a.m. and then sleep for her normal 9-10 hours. When we returned on New Year’s after our last trip, Annie was up until 6 a.m. for ten days straight. When this happens, as you can imagine, it takes a toll on all three of us. And with every trip to the states, we are missing out on Annie’s therapy sessions and then when we return we have to wait for her to get back on schedule to pick up where we left off. Enter: worried, guilty mom.

Is the fact that we are missing therapy sessions hurting her? Are we delaying her development even more? For months we’ve been working on trying to get Annie to sit. And for the first few months I wasn’t worried. We worked with her everyday, and I knew she’d get there on her own accord. But when we returned in November after a three week visit with my family, I noticed an enormous lull in her progress. I started to freak out  and obsess (something I promised myself I would never do). I cried and made a huge deal out of nothing…”if she doesn’t sit, she can’t crawl. If she doesn’t crawl, she’ll never walk.” I was making myself nuts and probably Annie too.

We spent nine incredible days in PA for Christmas. I think I left my in-laws’ house 3 times in those nine days, a much needed break. I calmed and collected myself and let go. I’d rather her do it right and sit a year from now than rush her. So we returned to Rome to the nightmare of having a baby on the wrong time zone and I could not have cared less whether she was sitting or not, I just wanted her to sleep. Hell, I just wanted to sleep!

Eventually we got back on schedule. We called Federica (Annie’s AWESOME therapist) and told her we were ready to start up again. This time after our return from the States, I didn’t focus on what Annie wasn’t doing. I let go and had fun. On Annie’s second day back in therapy, she sat unassisted for about a minute. The next morning five! Just hours after I sent this picture to all our family and friends, Annie surprised me and sat for 20 minutes with periods of clapping with hands off the floor for support. Pretty impressive for her first day!

What I’ve learned from all of this is that our children truly feed off our energy and emotions. They turn to us and look for how they should be reacting to what’s going on around them. They know – even more than we do – when we are sad, worried, happy, or in hysterics. If any of you watched the latest episode of Modern Family, they nailed it on the head with Lily’s swearing to cheer up her dad.

Since having Annie, I 100% believe all this. When Annie was first born and I was sad and worried because of her diagnosis, she literally did nothing. She hardly moved, she barely ate, she NEVER once cried. The morning I woke up a with a different attitude and with the epiphany that all I had to do was love my precious baby girl and focus on her and not the DS  and let go, she began to interact with us. Not long after that, she finally nursed. The calmer I am, the more she accomplishes. When I worry and obsess, she senses this and shuts down. Annie I am sorry I lost it a bit in November. I’m working on it!  And I am so proud of my sitting baby girl!

This Christmas I find myself with a much different outlook on the holiday. I have always been the “Remember the Reason for the Season” type. For the most part, since my adulthood, Christmas has always been about family and being with the ones I love the most and not about presents. As I expected, this year I find myself in want of nothing more than being surrounded by family and watching my daughter take in her first Christmas. It’s just that this Christmas has me believing in magic again.

I am sure many of you parents out there know what I am talking about. Your first child’s first Christmas: It’s magical – even more magical than I remember my childhood Christmases. It’s more magical than staying up all night with my five siblings (we all slept in the same room every Christmas Eve, a favorite tradition of mine), whispering and laughing about whether Santa was just in the next room and whether or not he liked the cookies we left, and hoping he remembered to grab the carrot sticks for his reindeer.  More magical than sitting on Santa’s lap gazing in wonderment and awe of his beard. More magical than all the lights and all the cookies and all the endless fun with cousins. More magical than waking up to a beautifully lit Christmas tree surrounded by piles and piles of presents and truly believing that they were delivered by one man and his sleigh. It’s more magical because as a parent we don’t just feel the magic, we witness it in action. We see it in the eyes of the ones we love the most. We see it in their smiles of excitement, astonishment, and awe. We get the magic of  innocence back in our lives from them; it’s contagious and wonderful. I know my Annie has absolutely no understanding of what’s going on and what all this shiny stuff is all about, but it’s still magic. It’s the magic that, if we slowed down to look for it, we would see is present in our children every day. It’s just magnified at Christmas. It’s been a long time since I believed in magic. Do you believe?

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

10. At any time of day I can walk with Annie through the courtyard, library, hallways, or coffee bar in the basement; I can basically go anywhere and – almost without fail – there are anywhere from 10 to 50 20-somethings lining up to give my baby their undying attention. She interacts with at least 30 individuals other than her parents on a daily basis. I could not get this in many (if any) other places.

9. An abundance of qualified babysitters. And the best part is they are usually so eager to get their hands on Annie that they babysit for FREE!

8. All the faculty and staff know Annie; they love and squeeze her on a regular basis. She has “conversations” daily with Art historians, classics scholars, Italian language professors, librarians, and administrators. She attends readings, plays, concerts, visits the students’ art studio, and regularly makes appearances at university extracurricular events, like intramural soccer. She gets to start her college experience a little earlier than usual.

7. Not only is our home a university campus, it is a study abroad program. The students that come to study here are usually the farthest they have ever been from home. They have the experience of a lifetime, and Annie and I get to be a part of that. We witness so many “ah-ha” moments. We watch students as their views of the world change right before their eyes in just a matter of a few months. But I love, too, that we are here for them. So many of our students at one point or another become pretty home sick. That’s where a snuggle from a cute baby can do some good. Annie gives them a little bit of comfort when they’re missing home.

6. Dad’s office is located mere steps away from our front door. We can see him at virtually any time of day. We have lunch with him everyday. He has baby equipment in his office and Annie can hang with him while I make a quick trip to the market or the farmacia.

5. Living among so many 19-21 year olds really keeps you young at heart. Here I can’t avoid it. Their love for life, enthusiasm, insane energy, and desire to experience the Italian culture is entirely contagious.

4. When we brought Annie home from the hospital a week after she was born, the students had decorated the entrance to the university and the door of our home with welcome posters signed by all the students. They include her in almost all of their events (e.g., she has a section called “Annie’s Picks” in the weekly newsletter about the intramural soccer league where she predicts the winning teams). When Annie goes to the States for a visit, her absence never goes unnoticed, and there is always a “We missed you and are glad you are back” sign hanging somewhere around campus to greet her upon her return home. For Thanksgiving, the student life assistants asked the students what they were thankful for this year and displayed their thanks on a power point that played for the week in the reception area of our school. One of the slides was a student saying that s/he was thankful for Annie. A few nights ago the students held their talent show. A student portrayed Annie as the lead of one of their skits about their time at the Rome Center. Annie is just as big a part of their experience as they are of her first years.

3. The students here are at a very impressionable age. They are inquisitive and are very open and honest with questions. Most of them know nothing about Down Syndrome and some have never even met an individual with DS. More often than not, Annie and I are constantly bringing awareness to so many of these impressionable students. Every semester Annie and I change so many perspectives and we clarify myths. We teach and expose, and I know the students are grateful to know Annie.

2. We live in a gated community and anyone who enters must be buzzed in by security through a loud and heavy iron gate, at all times. Our bedroom is closer to this gate than any other room on campus. On top of our close proximity to this gate, my husband is the Director of Student Life here on campus. As such, he is the chief conduct officer and any students breaking any code of conduct must talk to him about their actions (a less-than-enviable position). As any of you former and present college students are surely aware, many students of this age return home anywhere from 2-4 in the morning. Since Annie has been born, I am constantly amused in the wee hours of the morning by the drunken “whispers” of students stumbling home. The gate slams and then at decibels I didn’t know whispers could reach, “SHHHH, BABY ANNIE’S SLEEEEEEEPING!!! SHHHH!!” I am always glad they have made it safely home and though these “whispers” often disrupt my sweet dreams, I always have to laugh at their nightly “consideration” for our little Annie.

1. I love that my family is part of bigger community of learners. A common trait that my husband and I share, that we want to instill in all of our children, is the desire to be bettering ourselves constantly, to be learning something new everyday. Here we see this and live this everyday. We visit new places, we learn about art and culture, and we try new things all the time. Most importantly, we are part of a family: An American university in a foreign country. A majority of my husband’s colleagues,too, are far away from home and their loved ones. We have become a family here. We take care of each other. I know without them I would not love it here.

I should have uploaded these eons ago! November was a busy month for Annie.

She had a blast and was a huge hit on campus on Halloween. She spent the afternoon passing out treats to all the students around campus in her first costume of the day.

Then it was off to spread more Halloween cheer in the cafeteria. She has a huge fan club and students are always eager to get their hands on her.

After our visit to the dining hall, we headed home for a costume change. Annie was given more gifts than I could ever count after her birth. The unbelievable outpouring of gifts and love was incredible. Included in the endless gifts were TWO Halloween costumes. So for the students’ Halloween dance, Annie got into costume numero due (a bumble bee). This was appropriate, because on campus Annie is known as “Baby Beaz”. So off we headed to the Annual Halloween Bash at the JFRC as Bumble Bee-zley and her rose bush. She was, as always, a huge hit. We spent most of our time in the hallway outside the party because the music was so loud. But, as she always does, Annie accumulated many followers. She brought the party to the hallway.

A few days after her first Halloween, we were once again packing our bags and preparing for another trip to the states. This time we were heading to Chicago for three full weeks to celebrate the wedding of a very best friend of mine, to get some quality family time in, and of course to celebrate Annie’s first Thanksgiving. It was our first transatlantic trip just the two of us, mom and babe. We had enough practice though and my little traveler couldn’t have been better. We definitely missed her dad though. Here are a few of our favorite pics from Annie’s Halloween and her Thanksgiving trip.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I know it has been forever since I have posted. I didn’t fall off the face of the earth. It has just been a while since I’ve had the opportunity to sit down to write at my computer. And now that I am here, I have no idea where to start. I have a LOT of catching up to do.

October has been one of the craziest and busiest months for my family. I had a husband with a broken ankle, the family made a last-minute trip to the States for a memorial service for Annie’s wonderful great-grandfather, and we returned to Rome only to leave her less than eight hours later to fly to Poland. I had a jet-lagged baby and a jet-lagged self. Suitcase after suitcase, flight after flight, train after train… I didn’t find much time to sit down, let alone collect my thoughts at my computer. Anyway, I dropped the ball on the 31 posts and feel pretty bummed about it. I actually let myself get pretty down this month with all the chaos. I had some pretty ugly moments when exhaustion got the best of me and I may have taken it out on the people I love. Nonetheless, this October we were go, go, go. In sixteen days we were on seven planes and three trains. Here’s how our travels went….

Annie, Mike, and I spent a week in Chicago, just enough time for Annie to get herself on a U.S. time zone schedule. So on our last nights in Chicago, my precious baby was finally falling asleep around 10 and waking up just a little before 8. Perfect! We left Chicago on the evening of the 11th on an overnight flight to London where we connected in the late afternoon to Rome. We arrived in Rome around 8 p.m. and I was ready for bed. Annie was ready for lunch! Bed had to wait, we needed to be ready for a 5 a.m. pick up to take us back to the airport. Fed Annie. Thankfully her Aunt Kaylea was joining us for the trip and was there to help. While Kay played with a super energetic baby, I began the process of unpacking and repacking. By about midnight I was ready to go and, more importantly, ready to hit the sack. Annie was just waking up from her afternoon nap. Brilliant.

After a long night we were back at the airport, where my husband informed me for the first time (or at least it was the first time I listened) that we had a layover in Switzerland and wouldn’t be arriving in Poland until mid-afternoon. GREAT! Anyway, found out this day that Swiss Air is truly my favorite airline. We have flown with them before, both transoceanic and throughout Europe, and we have always had extremely comfortable flights. The service is always great. This day we learned they are awesome with babies too! They even had little baby gifts for our baby flyer! On the first flight a handsome young flight attendant handed me the baby seat belt and while handing me the baby life vest calmly said “We usually don’t need these!” It was pretty funny. Then he handed me a little package and said it was the “baby version of Hamlet.” It was just a little Swiss Air cloth booklet to help entertain Annie. But so sweet and cute.

Other than a few bumps with getting wheelchair assistance for my husband, we had two uneventful flights and a happy, but exhausted baby. After taking a taxi to the wrong Ibis hotel, we finally arrived at the right one around 4 p.m. Mom, Dad, and baby decided to skip site-seeing for the afternoon and opted for a much needed nap. Unfortunately, I woke up more exhausted than refreshed. And we had a busy 8 days in front of us.

Every October for the University’s fall break, my husband takes a group of students to Poland for a study trip. Last year I attended and loved it so much, I promised I would never miss it. Poland was never high on my “to see” list. But it is quickly becoming a favored spot. Every town and city I have visited in Poland is more beautiful than the last. There is such tremendous and important history in this country. The people are incredibly nice, generous, and helpful. The food is to die for. The only down side is that it is cold! The university has been running this trip for the past six years. It is fabulous and I will be writing a post about the wonderful details of the trip in the near future. But this post is about our little globetrotter and one tired mamma.

This year, they tacked on three extra days to the usual four-day trip. Plus, we decided to tack two extra days to our trip: one in Warsaw at the beginning of the trip and one in Krakow at the end. For the study trip we added a day in Warsaw, kept the normal two days in Torun (a small university town where we meet with Polish law students and professors to hold an annual symposium on human rights), and added Krakow to the trip for an extra three days. Of course I will be writing about all we saw and learned in all of these places on another day. But for the purpose of this post, what these three cities meant was three different hotels, three trains, and a lot of lugging of suitcases.

Thank goodness for our 17 wonderful students, Aunt Kaylea, and Cousin Kelly! We never would have been able to move all the baby luggage, stroller, car seat, diapers, or mom and dad’s suitcases if it weren’t for them. Dad on crutches with incredibly sore wrists was no help in the lugging process. On top of all this lugging, I had a baby whose bedtime was still in Chicago. This meant Annie didn’t fall asleep for the first three or four days of the trip until around 4 a.m. Which of course meant mom didn’t get to fall asleep until 4:05 a.m.

For being such a great trip, it was also the most difficult trip of my life. Exhaustion is too small a word for what I felt during my time in Poland.  I still don’t know how we did it. But that’s our life…always on the go.

When we arrived back in Rome after a late night flight from Krakow, I turned to my husband rather crabbily, and said thank you for a wonderful trip, but NEVER again. It took two days of resting and one enthusiastic waiter to make me realize I really didn’t mean that.

On our second night back in Rome, we decided to take Kay to our favorite spot for dinner. It’s a family run place and we know the owner and his son who run it well. They were, as always, happy to see us and especially happy to see the baby. But since we hadn’t been in for dinner in quite some time, the son asked us where we’d been. My husband began to explain the travels of our family over the past two weeks. He stopped him mid-sentence and said, “Aspetta! (Wait!) How old is your baby? And how many flights has she been on?” We responded she will be seven months next week and two days ago she was on her tenth flight. This young man was so amazed he went on to say, “I am 29 years old, and I have been on half the flights as she has.” He then went into the kitchen and dragged out his father, brought him to our table and kept repeating “Sette mese e dieci voli!” He did this with the other waiter and a few diners too!

I share this story only because in those five minutes of astonishment on that waiter’s face, I realized how truly amazing Annie’s life already is. It’s so easy to get caught up in the chaos, to complain, to let exhaustion win. I spent too many moments upset and crabby with all we had to do that I forgot about what we were so blessed to be doing. I forgot to sit back and see all that my family is experiencing, all the places we get to see, all the love by which we are constantly surrounded. More often than not, it is someone else, (like the waiter) who is on the outside that reminds me how truly lucky my family is. When I am down and homesick or just plain sick of Rome (yes, it can happen), all I have to do is remember the time I was on the bridge of the Castel Sant’Angelo on the most beautiful day with the most spectacular view with my sister-in-law Ginny and she turned to me and said, “God, can you imagine what it’d be like to live here?” I had to laugh and remind her that “Yes, Ginny, I can, because I do live here.” But it actually was exactly what I needed to hear.

Sometimes we get caught up in the life we think we want that at times, sometimes – at the most important times – we miss the one we’re living. That’s what Annie’s teaching me everyday. Live in the moment, love every moment you can. They pass too quickly and you can’t get them back. Are we more tired than we would have been if we had skipped this trip and stayed home after our trip to Chicago? Definitely. But I wouldn’t trade all the memories we made and lessons we learned in Poland for the world. Seven months and ten flights.

Annie, your story has only begun!

Down Syndrome is NOT a rare genetic disorder. It’s actually the most common genetic condition. About 1 in 700 babies is born with Down syndrome and over 6,000 babies are born with Down syndrome in the US each year. Currently, it is estimated that there are over 400,000 individuals with Down syndrome in the United States.

More than 90% of the time, Down syndrome is caused by trisomy 21. A child with trisomy 21 has three copies of chromosome 21 — instead of the usual two copies — in all of his or her cells. This form of Down syndrome is caused by abnormal cell division during the development of the sperm cell or the egg cell. It is not an “inherited” condition, passed down from generation to generation.

The only well known risk factor for conceiving a child with Down syndrome is advanced maternal age. The older the woman is at conception, the greater the possibility of having a child with Down syndrome.

People with Down Syndrome are NOT dumb. They go to regular schools, graduate from high school, and many go on to college.

People with Down Syndrome are NOT institutionalized. On several occasions, college students on campus where we live have asked if Italy “has the right kind of institutions” for Annie. I am glad my family has been given the opportunity to correct this misconception in the young impressionable minds of the students we interact with each year.

Adults with Down Syndrome are NOT unemployable. They are contributing members of society and hold jobs of a variety of skill levels.

People with Down Syndrome are NOT always happy. They have and experience all the same emotions as the rest of us. Their feelings get hurt just as easily as everyone else.

Children with Down Syndrome do NOT have to be placed in segregated special education classrooms. Children with Down Syndrome can attend regular classes, some do not need assistance from classroom  aides.

There are many people who REALLY want to add a child with Down Syndrome to their family. There is an enormous waiting list  specifically for the adoption of children with Down Syndrome.