My daughter, Amadeus, was born on September 26, 2017, with a diagnosis of Down syndrome. The moment I held her in my arms, I truly became a mom in a way I had never experienced before. I have four other children, but parenting a child with special needs and a heart defect transformed our family in ways I could never have imagined—ultimately, for the better.
My pregnancy had been relatively easy, much like my others, but emotionally, it was a storm. Shortly after learning I was pregnant, I discovered my then-husband had been unfaithful—and the woman he had been with was also expecting a baby, due just a month before mine. My world was shaken. Anxiety and emotional turmoil consumed me. I spoke to my birth team, and they supported me if I wanted to deliver alone. But I decided he needed to be there for our last child, and I knew he would have fought to be present. Still, the pregnancy felt like an emotional rollercoaster. I thought the affair had ended—only to later realize another baby was on the way, creating a pain in my heart I had never known.
Despite all of this, our birth was beautiful. Amadeus came into the world through an amazing water birth, completing our family in ways I could not have foreseen. Not only was her Down syndrome diagnosis a surprise, but she was a little girl, adding another layer of joy and wonder. With little knowledge about Down syndrome or her heart defect, I immediately began researching and learning. Our week-long hospital stay gave me time to absorb as much as possible.
I was overwhelmed with love for my daughter, but I also wrestled with fear. I remember reading about life expectancy and thinking how fragile her life could be. My mind wandered to painful comparisons: my daughter might face heart failure, leukemia, or lifelong struggles, while another child—like the one my husband had with his other partner—might not. But before leaving the hospital, I made a promise to myself: no matter how long Amadeus lives, I would give her the best life possible, fully present and fiercely loving. I needed to heal, forgive, and move forward—letting go of the past to embrace the blessings in front of me.
Now three years old, Amadeus is a picture of resilience. She has faced challenges that would intimidate anyone, yet she has overcome each one. At just four months old, she fought for her life, battling RSV, and she came out stronger. She endured a severe oral aversion, requiring tube feeding for six months, yet today she eats and drinks normally. She survived heart failure and an eight-hour open-heart surgery, leaving the hospital just five days later. Our daughter is a fighter, and through her courage, she has taught me to challenge life instead of simply accepting it.
Watching her fight for life inspired me to fight for our family. After three years of trying to make my marriage work post-Amadeus, I realized I could no longer ignore the pain caused by betrayal. I decided to separate. I wanted my children to see and feel their mother happy again, just as they had before. Life sometimes brings people together, and other times it gives clarity about what’s best for you and your children. Being a single mom during the pandemic showed me that we could grow, heal, and thrive together. My children and I learned that love, resilience, and family do not depend on marital status. My former husband remains a great provider, and I cherish the memories of our family, knowing I left no stone unturned in giving our children love and stability.
During a time of personal healing, I felt called to give back. In October, Down Syndrome Awareness Month, I hosted 31 virtual meetings with 31 families to highlight the diversity within the Down syndrome community. At the time, I didn’t realize it, but this work was part of my own healing journey. It restored my confidence, allowed me to lift other voices, and reminded me that together we can foster resilience and hope.
Through Amadeus, I connected with families across the Black and Brown communities—not only within Down syndrome but also across a spectrum of differently-abled children. I discovered a calling to build a platform for healing, connection, and advocacy. This work led to partnering with another mom to create Stronger Together, an event designed to support parents of differently-abled children, share stories, and ensure no one navigates this journey alone.
So please, don’t say, “I’m sorry.” We are healing as a family in our own unique way. We are moving forward, believing in a future where our children thrive, our voices are heard, and love continues to guide us.
