Trevor and I were sent off to a specialist who couldn't make a conclusive diagnosis and we declined amniocentesis. The specialist felt that if we weren't going to terminate, there was no point in doing the amnio and risking a healthy child who showed no other indications of Trisomy 21 except for that one blood test.
For the rest of my pregnancy, my doctor checked for every marker and none showed up. I even had a 3D ultrasound on a shoot for work and that gynae who didn't know me remarked that the baby showed no signs of Trisomy 21. And so we all hoped and prayed everything was fine.
The day after Michael's birth, the paediatrician examined him thoroughly again and said he had some concerns. Michael didn't show enough of the physical characteristics for him to make a diagnosis and we all felt a blood test would answer everybody's question. For the next week, we were just a normal family with two children adjusting to life with a newborn.
And then the paediatrician asked to see us. He examined Michael yet again and, after that, we sat down and he delivered the news: Michael's blood test confirmed he has Trisomy 21.
I held my composure while he explained the situation to us and we listened to the information he provided. But, when we got into the car, the walls came down and so did the tears. I cried bitterly all through Michael's feed and most of that afternoon is a blur.
In just a few seconds, Michael's entire future was ripped from us. The boy I imagined playing soccer at school, giving me grief during high school, partying during his university days, getting married and having kids was gone. Those images were burnt in my mind and we were left with nothing but black.
Despite knowing there was a risk, nothing prepared us for the reality. And to make matters worse, Trevor had to rush off with Wren-Lee to the doctor as she was sick and steadily deteriorating. We were tired emotionally and physically and had to prepare ourselves for what was coming...
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