Constantine meets his big brothers
My pregnancy with Constantine was unremarkable until the summer of 2008. While pregnant, an ultrasound and blood work found an abnormality that seemed to give genetic counselors license to tell us about our “options.” Dan and I largely dismissed the findings, knowing our son would be born as he would be born. We loved him already with all of our heart, sight unseen, and unconditionally. It was jarring to be advised of our “options” when love had already been established so completely.
An alert Constantine in the NICU
Near the end of the second decade of the 21st century, Constantine was born around Christmas time—the third love of our lives. His birth was a reminder of our commitment to love. His NICU stay underscored a new kind of reality. It also spurred our determination to will Constantine onward to improved health. We were resolved to take our baby home. Constantine, our youngest son, was born with a diagnosis of trisomy-21. When I first confronted those words, I was in a state a denial. How could this happen to me, I thought. The label, Down syndrome, was hard to swallow. In our first moments together, I didn’t fully comprehend the blessing Constantine would be to our family. At times, I look back at my shortsightedness as I once thought about having a child who wasn’t “typical.” Although the love was constant throughout the unknowingness of my pregnancy with Constantine, with time I learned how blessed we were to have a child born with such love, intuitiveness, and inherent wisdom.
