It’s been nearly three weeks since Miles arrived, and I find myself forgetting that he has Downs. It might be because he’s usually swaddled up pretty good, so I rarely get a chance to see the rolls on the back of his neck. For me, those rolls are the only real physical reminder of his Downs. His eyes look OK to me. Sleepy, but OK.

The only time it really hits me is during feeding time. He can have a pretty difficult time getting a good suction on the bottles. A lot of the time, he’ll do this weird breathing freak-out thing that sounds as if he is having an asthma attack. It can be sort of gurgly, too, so I’m always afraid that I’m drowning him in milk.

It usually turns out OK, though. If you give him a break from the bottle, he’ll level out and start sucking like normal.

At any rate, Miles has found his place in our house without much trouble. We all love him, including Nora and the cats. Well… maybe not Gordon. It took him more than a year to show any sort of affection towards Nora. Pumpkin, on the other hand, has already been spotted holding vigil next to a sleeping Miles on the floor.