Wes turns six months tomorrow but had his six-month appointment yesterday, wherein he was weighed, measured, and found wanting.

Oh, wait, no–that’s A Knight’s Tale. Wes, of course, was weighed, measured, and found to be growing!

At four months, he was:

9 lbs 7.5 oz (7th percentile on DS chart)
22 inches long (13th percentile)
14.6 inch head circumference (20th percentile)

This month he is:

11 lbs 13 oz (11th percentile on DS chart)
24 inches long (16th percentile)
15.4 inch head circumference (26th percentile)

Movin’ on up, he is.

And here are photos from some of his bumbo chair work time today:

Wesley’s newest favorite thing is sitting in the Bumbo chair. It’s a teeny tiny chair that supports his back, but not his neck, so he has to hold that up himself. He likes to sit in it and play with any toy we stick in front of him. He lasts about five minutes per sitting session right now. His head control, though, is so much better than even a couple weeks ago. He’s getting stronger all the time.

When we see him sitting in the Bumbo, he looks simultaneously so big and so little. So big because, wow, he’s sitting up like a big boy! And so little because he is still so very little. This picture doesn’t show him to scale with the rest of the room, but the chair really is teeny tiny, and so is he in it!

Here are some things Wes is up to these days:

1. Sucking on his hands a lot, specifically the thumb and first knuckle on his right hand. Binkie days are behind him.

2. Standing up on his feet with support. He seems to prefer standing to sitting. This is how he spends sacrament meeting at church, standing on my lap and looking at everyone around him. I’ve been told that such determination and strength to stand up is unusual for a five-month-old with DS.

3. Trying new foods! So far he’s had rice cereal, bananas, pears, sweet potatoes, peas, carrots, and diluted apple juice. He loved the apple juice, sucking it down as fast as he could. The worst reaction so far was with his first taste of sweet potatoes, when he made a face and started to whimper. I waited a few days and tried them again, and he did better the second time.

4. Bouncing and swinging. Our friends lent us a bouncy swing that hangs in a doorway. It’s terrific because it forces him to hold his head up by himself like a big boy, and we can give him a toy to hold and focus on while he’s sitting there. I think his therapist will be pleased; he’s doing so much better every week with neck strength, focus, and interest in the world. He lasts about five minutes at a time in the swing right now, but I expect that will improve as he gets stronger.

Today I had a meeting with the social security office to see about getting Wesley social security disability income. Wesley passed with flying colors. Turns out that Down syndrome qualifies him automatically.

His parents, however, didn’t pass. Turns out that good things like having cars paid off, working towards owning your own home, investing money in stocks and bonds, having 401K accounts, and earning more than minimum wage–things that the government wants every American to achieve–makes it impossible for Wes to receive disability income. He has to wait until either 1) John’s company flops and we end up on the streets or 2) he turns 18 and is suddenly suppposed to be self-sufficient.

One of my friends told me recently how her friend’s dad was trying to put her through college by working two jobs but was still struggling to make ends meet. So he sought help from the government. The government official told him there was nothing available to help him unless he made less money. The official’s advice? Quit both jobs and go on welfare. Now how’s that for working toward the American dream?

This week John and I were remembering how difficult that first day was after Wes was born. The words “Down syndrome” were big and scary then. But now we both agree that it’s not a big deal, not like it was then.

The first day of our child’s life was harder for us than for other parents of healthy children because what immediately followed the words “Down syndrome” was a long list of the medical risks associated with DS and the physical and mental challenges that one extra chromosome would bring to our child. It was scary–a laundry list of everything that could go wrong.

Can you imagine what the birth day of every normal child would be like if doctors rountinely confronted the parents shortly after the delivery like this:

“I’ve looked over your baby and I’m sorry to tell you that he may get sick four times a year and throw up in his bed. Very possibly he’ll be bullied in the playground and come home crying and with bruises. He may wake up with nightmares that you can’t console. He might have dyslexia and hate to read. Possibly he’ll be enormously shy and have trouble making friends. He may have a terrible temper and break things. Statistics show he’ll try cigarettes and alcohol and may become addicted. Likely he’ll cheat on some tests. He might get in a car wreck and be seriously injured. Don’t be suprised if he lies to you rather than tell you where he’s been. Worse-case scenario: he becomes a drug addict, fathers several children that he beats, and shoots himself in the head before he’s thirty. Oh, and by the way, congratulations on the birth of your beautiful baby boy.”

I’ve said it before but it’s worth saying again: Every child will have some problems during his life. With Down syndrome, it’s a little more intimidating up front because the possibilities of what could go wrong with him are spelled out pretty frankly. But like with any kid and any situation, you have to expect the best. And with Wesley, we try.

When our baby was in the NICU after his birth I had lots of time to talk with the nurses there, and they told me that many more Down syndrome kids are born in our area versus other parts of the country. I asked them why this was and they said it’s because in other parts of the country fetuses that are determined to be Down syndrome are often aborted. Eighty to ninety percent of them. I was holding Wes when they told me that and it just astounded me. I looked down at my little, perfect baby boy and wondered how could anyone decide not to give this beautiful child life? It still astonishes me.