Twas the night before Christmas...

Well, it definitely feels like the night before Christmas in the Allard household.  Connor is staying at his Grammy’s tonight, because tomorrow morning we’ll be checking into our luxury suite at Women & Infants for 6am.  I’m pretty sure it’s still dark then, isn’t it?  Poor Con- his very Preschool-appropriate anxiety was apparent as he told me that he’s “not coming to visit at the hospital because they can just put you back together and you can come home to put me to bed tomorrow night”.   We’ve had a few days in a row of tears about me having to sleep at the hospital.  He’s far less upset about me having an operation than he is over the fact that I won’t be putting him to bed for a few nights.   Thankfully, he’s still VERY excited that Abby is finally being born.

It’s rather odd, having everything all planned out, knowing that in 12 hours I’ll no longer be pregnant.  We’ve built up so much anticipation for this moment; it’s somewhat surreal that it’s finally arrived. With Connor’s birth I didn’t so much as blink and there we were, on the operating table.  This time I’ve had far too much time to develop anxiety about all this!  I am, however, looking forward to breathing easier and seeing my feet again J

I’m very aware that children with special needs can make adults feel awkward, especially when those special needs are physically obvious.  People don’t know what to say, they want to ask questions but don’t want to offend, or just feel uncomfortable and prefer to smile politely and move on.  We may be scared of what is different, of what we don’t know; people may stop and stare or they may immediately look away.  I’m writing this so you don’t have to be one of those people. There’s no reason to be scared. Abby is going to look different; she has a cleft lip, and for now her head is somewhat enlarged.  We aren’t sure of other abnormalities, but we’ve been told her eyes may be set closer than normal. These differences may be very obvious, or they may be subtle.  We’ll find out when we meet her tomorrow morning, but it doesn’t really matter; no matter what she’s going to be beautiful to us just like her brother was, and we love her.  If you’re reading this, chances are it’s because you care and we want you to feel comfortable and welcome around us. 

Matt and I really appreciate all of the support our family and friends have shown in the past several weeks, and particularly in the past day or two.  All of the phone calls, text messages, emails, Facebook messages, and comments here have been overwhelming and heartwarming.  I know we’ve both been trying to keep up with responses; we can’t express how much we appreciate it and how loved you’ve made us feel.  This could have been an isolating time, but our experience for the most part has been the polar opposite.  Thank you for reaching out to us. We can’t wait to meet our daughter and to introduce her to you!