“There in my arms, your four pound frame warm against my skin, I drank you in, studying (no, memorizing) every last delicate feature of your sweet face. I couldn’t get enough of you – the shape of your eyes, the tiny button nose, the darling feet. Yet soon those features of yours, that I loved and kissed (over and again), became little clues to a diagnosis I was entirely unprepared to hear, markers of a different story to be told. One I wanted to protect you from… somehow. So, when I brought you home, I tried to dress you just right and get the camera angle just so, hoping no one would get stuck on the fact that you had Down syndrome, trying to show them you were more than that. See, I was afraid that those telling features would become the only thing people would see. That they would zero in and stop there, as if looking at you thru a magnifying glass, whittling you down to a diagnosis and never pulling back to see that you are a wildly unique person with strong opinions, all the feelings, big dreams, real fears, deep desires, and yes, immense value. For each and every one of us is more than a sum of features or a label. Even on our worst day. And you, dear boy, are far more than a syndrome. You are Syrus.” @corbettburick