This is our story.
January 11th, 2021 ( trisomy 21, oh, the irony!). I prepared my maternity luggage, just like any soon to be mother, ready to go to the hospital to give birth.
me and baby EVA
My pregnancy was perfect (at least, that is what I thought). I was ready to give birth to my first child, my little miracle, to feel the heartbeat I only knew from scans, there in my arms.
Giving birth went smoothly and my baby Eva entered the world. My dream came true and everything was perfect. I cried, we cried, then everything began to calm as I kept Eva in my embrace, skin to skin. Those are some priceless moments I will never forget!
I was so excited to go back into the salon with my baby girl, to gaze into every inch of her body knowing she is mine forever.
I managed to get back on my feet really fast and in a few hours I was back in my room waiting for Eva, while she was taken from me for some routine tests.
A few moments later, the neonatologist entered my room, with Eva in her arms. The feeling of knowing that I am a mother and she is my baby girl was something that made me so emotional that breathing hurt and every beat of my heart almost felt like it could jump out of my chest.
Then, as the neonatologist started speaking, my world stopped.
–Mrs. Lechintan, we suspect that Eva has Down Syndrome. Do you happen to have someone in your family that has Down Syndrome?
silence…. What is she saying? I am sure it’s a mistake. Maybe they switched babies. What does it mean?
–Your baby has some Down Syndrome phenotypes. Did you run tests while pregnant? Didn’t you know that?
silence again… My gynecologist told me that everything is OK with my pregnancy. It must be a mistake. They are for sure wrong.
–Mrs. Lechintan, I am so sorry. I can redirect you to some specialists who might ease your way of understanding how this happened and what you can do further.
That was it. My new world was new again. I took Eva in my arms. I looked at her and felt like all the love I had, transformed into guilt, fear and doubt.
I juggled between moments I felt strong and moments of the highest insecurity. The moments of calmness were rare and I simply couldn’t maintain a positive vibe. I was in denial.
They ran some more tests on Eva and waited for an answer for an excruciating 2 weeks. 2 weeks of looking for signs, for similarities between her and me and my husband as babies, 2 weeks of personal research through family history that might help me find a reason for everything that’s happened. And after I consumed my grief, I accepted my destiny, no matter where it might take me. 
I abandoned myself in this new world that contoured in front of my eyes. I was ready to accept this new road of motherhood, different from the one I imagined since I found out I was pregnant.
After 2 weeks, it soon became clear. Eva has Down Syndrome.
Two weeks of terror, of not knowing the truth and reality, of people not knowing how to speak to me, how to manage my emotions, of persons that kept assuring me that she does not have Down Syndrome, to people that tried to prepare me for anything that might happen next. At night, I was even dreaming that all babies that were born were snuggled in their mother’s arms, while Eva was in a cold, empty room, alone. A total chaos, no matter how much I tried to find a piece of me strong enough to take care of the tiny soul that has me as a mother.
I got scared. But that was the moment I realized that this is Eva, she is here to stay. This is another story with me and her as main characters and I will try to write it as beautifully as I can. For her, for us as a family.
After a while I managed to research a little further through my pregnancy screenings and found out that the risk of having Down Syndrome was moderate, not low which might have excluded all chances of a Down Syndrome, and this result might request further tests, tests which obviously I did not do. Why didn’t I? I don’t know. My gynecologist always told me that everything looked perfect.
I struggled with the fact that I was not told about the risks. Any mother should know about all risks. Would I have done things differently if I knew the risk? Not at all, I would still have had Eva here, in my arms. But our start together as a family wouldn’t have been filled with insecurities, tears and fear. I would have read about everything I could do to help her, from day 1.
This is where my awareness alarm is rooted. Here. In the need of knowing everything so parents can prepare.
I found out later that once a test suggests a risk of 1/1000 further tests are REQUIRED. But I was not, even though my rate was 1/350. Why not? I scheduled a genetic consultation as time went by, and the genetician told me that only parents can decide if they want to investigate further a potential risk. But if the information I was given was that “everything looks perfect”, why would I ask for more tests, as long as I’m a non-specialist who does not know how to read test results?
Moreover, how can I be left alone with my child right after birth, in an empty room, without support, minutes after the diagnosis prevailed? I was emotionally destroyed. I was a wreck. I needed help. Someone should have come to me right after the news and offered me support, not a phone number or suggestions of how to seek help after I leave the hospital. They should have been there for me, maybe our start as a new family would have been better, not covered in tears. And they weren’t.
Now I embrace my destiny, her destiny. I look for specialists that help me find the best kind of help she needs, to offer me direction on how to raise her best. I read a lot, I learn something new about Down Syndrome every day and even if this syndrome comes with an extra chromosome, this is not an illness. No, it’s not. SHE IS NOT SICK. SHE IS SPECIAL. She simply has a different rhythm when she experiences this world. 
I wrote this thinking of future parents, who struggle as well with lack of information. Please do all tests required, ask questions, ask for further necessary tests that are not mandatory, search for the truth. Make everything that is in your power so that the beginning of your story as a new family is not covered in tears and uncertainty.
If you have a child with Down Syndrome, let everyone know that your child is not sick. Let everyone know that their rhythm might be different, but they love with the same passion, maybe even more.
They will learn to play football, to do ballet, to sing and ride a bike. Just let them have some more time.
This was our story. A story of how a child was born and Eva was born hours later.
Once I stopped looking at disadvantages, I only saw beauty. Eva has a purpose. And we are ready to embrace it with so much love!
The birth of EVA was written by her mama, Andra Lechintan in the following months after giving birth. We were touched to read it and incredibly happy to meet her and sweet baby EVA, becoming part of our ISARA family. We support them through their fight to raise awareness towards the parents’ right for accurate prenatal information and further inclusion of Down Syndrome children in the community.
In hopes of a better world for all they love they share, every 21st day of every month will be declared here at ISARA as a day to raise awareness and #sharestories. Join us on the 21st, this month, use code DOWNISUP21 at checkout on www.isara.ro all day, for baby snuggles all day long ! Join us on Facebook & Instagram @isara_baby_carriers
Read the original story here: https://bit.ly/AndraLechintan