Our family's perfect gift: A reflection on fatherhood

One spring Saturday a few years before our daughter Emily was born, my wife Meg and I went to watch our nephew, Parker, play T-ball. We already had one child, Margaret, who was probably several months old at the time. Having our second child was probably not yet on our minds, but this game would prove to be an important event in the future of our family.

Watching Parker hit and run the bases was exciting, but he wasn’t the one who ended up stealing the day. It would be a boy on the opposing team, a boy a lot smaller and a little more un-coordinated than all the others playing on the field.

Every time he came up to the plate, he awkwardly fumbled around with his helmet and struggled to lift the bat. After several missed attempts at the ball sitting on that tee, this boy made contact, hitting the ball several monumental feet. With the largest smile you have ever seen, this boy looked up with surprise, dropped his bat and ran his heart out to first base.

You couldn’t help but notice the cheers for him were louder and more prolonged than for any of the other kids. He finally reached first base, grinning from ear to ear.

I remember watching in awe of his determination and his joy each time he came up to the plate. I remember thinking to myself how lucky his parents are to get to be with him every day. I remember very clearly saying to God that day, “I want a child like that.”

That special Saturday came and went. I never mentioned to Meg anything about what I was thinking and feeling watching that boy play. To this day, I have no idea what his name was or who his parents are. I just know that he was put there that day for me to make this wish, a wish that I had forgotten until February 2007.

The alarm clock had gone off well before sunrise. It was time to go to the hospital and have a baby. I remember Meg and I both being very quiet that morning. It was almost like we both had a sense of what was about to happen, but neither wanted to say anything about it. The pregnancy had been pretty typical, and our final ultrasound had been normal.

Moments after Emily was born, the doctor said she looked perfect, congratulated us and handed our new baby over to the nurses for her first physical.

Meg and I still didn’t really say a word to each other during the first 10 or 15 minutes of her life. It was like we were both waiting for the news. After her physical and first bath, the nurses handed Emily to Meg and said she could hold her for a moment but they would have to take her to NICU to have some tests done. At that moment, I thought of a 4D ultrasound image that to me had looked a lot like a baby with Down syndrome. I thought of the strangely quiet morning. I remembered that Saturday T-ball game.

While Meg was naturally concerned about what could be wrong, I felt a comforting peace come over me. I was almost certain what they were going to tell us. I don’t know how long they had Emily out of the room, but it seemed like hours. A doctor and nurse finally came in to tell us the news. Our new baby had Down syndrome. The medical people in the room seemed surprised that Meg and I were not very surprised by this news. They handed us our new baby and a book about Down syndrome and left the room.

Those first few days and weeks were a happy time for our family (Nobody else knew of my secret wish yet).

I remember telling people, “We have a healthy, happy, new baby girl. The only difference is she has an extra chromosome, no big deal.” I remember telling the ministers who came to visit us from church that we felt so lucky that God had chosen us to be her parents. In those first days, I finally told Meg of the T-ball game, of my thoughts during the ultrasound and of my feelings that whole morning Emily came into this world.

Now, five years later, Emily is one of the most amazing people I have ever known and is truly our family’s greatest blessing. She is determined to try and do anything her sisters can do. Some things she even does better than her sisters.

Emily’s only real challenge is a speech delay. She works hard with her speech and is determined about that as well. We are encouraged and are noticing great progress each week that goes by. Emily is a shining example of how to live each day, always smiling, always happy and always full of enthusiasm.

We try to include her in as many typical experiences she can handle. She takes ballet and goes to gymnastics camp. Emily is probably most at home at the swimming pool where she can be seen taking her time to jump off the diving board while a huge line of kids encourages her from behind.

She entered kindergarten on time with her age group but this fall will repeat kindergarten to build on the great progress she has made before entering first grade. She fits right in with her classmates and has never met anyone she doesn’t like. The more you get to know her, the more you realize, she is just like everyone else.

Last year, we had the opportunity to sign Emily up for T-ball, coming full circle with my other T-ball experience. All season long, Meg and I talked about how we hoped Emily playing would inspire people like that boy inspired me. And just like that boy, Emily eagerly awaited her turn to take a swing at that ball. And just like that boy, she ran to first base with the proudest smile you have ever seen.

Editor’s Note: This essay was excerpted from a blog entry Craig wrote on livedesignplay.com.