My baby is 6 now.

Yesterday was Breanna's 6th birthday. All moms say this but really, where did the time go? I'll tell you where it went-to the park, ice skating, to the grocery store, Target, Walmart, Gymboree, drum lessons, guitar lessons, writing co-op, science co-op, art co-op, speech therapy, well, you get the picture. Just like everyone else, we are a very busy family and one day you turn around and your baby is 6. No mom ever forgets the day she gave birth to her child but Breanna's was marked with a bittersweet experience. I had waited my whole life to have a daughter of my own. I love the boys and I was so happy to have the boys first and I had given up my dream of ever having a daughter. Before Bryan and I decided to have another child we had to get to the point where we were okay if we had another boy. We also wanted to make sure we didn't just want a baby but another child. I was so excited to have a girl. I had the room painted pink, all the dresses washed and hung, (the closet was amazing), the shoes and socks all lined in their baskets. I was ready for this little girl, or so I thought. Unfortunately I had a very young and inexperienced pediatrician on call when I delivered Breanna. She did have some breathing problems when she was born so they were looking at her more closely but then they said they needed to talk to Bryan and me alone. The room was filled with all of the special people that we wanted to share that moment with and now we had to ask them all to leave. No one wants to hear a doctor say they want to talk to you alone. Once everyone had left the doctor then proceeded to tell us that she thought Breanna might have Down's Syndrome. Well, needless to say my heart sank, my stomach turned and my huge pink bubble burst. What? How could she have Down's Syndrome? Wouldn't the level 2 sonogram have told us that? I knew in my heart that she wasn't but the damage was done, the cloud had settled, the gloom had set in. We called in my regular pediatrian and after looking her over he said in so many words that she was fine but he couldn't contradict the doctor. The test takes two weeks to get the results so we had to wait for them to call us to tell us the news. I'll never forget where I was sitting when the doctor called. It was my regular pediatrician (who was very wonderful and supportive during this time) and he told me, "She's normal, just like we thought." I knew it in my heart but it taught me a lot about myself. I learned that no matter what I would love my daughter, I would care for her, I would cherish her. No test result could change that for me. I also learned and became aware of the enormous support group that surrounds me. I would not have walked that road alone. We never walk alone. All we have to do is look up.