It is Moxie's Birth Day

This is what I posted on this day last year. I think it still applies.

She is one year older – three! – but it holds true.

Tomorrow will be a celebration post.



Today she is two.

Moxie Eleanor Enfys Xuan Mai:

Moxie. “Shining Light”.

Moxie, “Rainbow”.

Moxie, “Plum Blossom”.

This time, two years ago, I was in labor and I had been in labor for 3 hours already.

This time, two years ago, I was alternating between rolling on the birthing ball, sitting in the warm pool and then…sleeping.

Stress-induced narcolepsy is an awfully useful “disability” to have while child birthing, it seems. I’m probably the only person in the world who had midwives shouting to STAY AWAKE just so we could get the baby out.

This time, two years ago, I was so scared still. I had no idea what my daughter would be like, would look like.

I prayed and hoped that I was wrong about all of my stereotypes regarding Down syndrome – that she wouldn’t be a dull child, sitting in a corner, incommunicable and with a rock-hard bowl cut that could never be altered. Tongue hanging out, not sparkly at all.

Thank God, I was. So very wrong.

This poem still applies, I would like to re-share it.


Our Fragile Emissary, by Nancy Tupper Ling


With modern screening and such

they wonder why

you’re here, on this earth

in our home

and in our arms,

after all, anyone

with any sense would have resolved

this problem of you

pre-birth, pre pain.

Blonde Beauty,

tiny as you are,

you catch their stares,

strangers’ second glances

into tender baby blues.

And your young

sweet ears hear whisperings

(“Down’s,” “defects”)

words dropped loosely

at extra-chromosomed girls.

 With such stinging receptions

how we long to shelter you,

surround you; keep your

gentle smiles to ourselves.

Instead, we hold you

up, for others to see;

let you, our fragile emissary

speak to an imperfect world.



2011-11-25Our blonde beauty is the light of our lives.

She is joy and fierce fire

Clever, quick, bright

There isn’t a dull bone in this child’s body: what was I thinking? What was anyone thinking in laying a stereotype like that on an entire tribe of people?

She is charm, grace and delight wrapped in a tiny bundle of a perfectly small form.

I can never be more grateful for somehow gathering the courage to have her – when I had the choice to not, when I was on the fence about whether we should.

Moxie Eleanor Enfys Xuan Mai:

Moxie. “Shining Light”.

Moxie, “Rainbow”.

Moxie, “Plum Blossom”.

A long name, unwieldy on her social security card, but a name that so suits her, this child of light and colour, of delicacy and pure beauty, laced with a steely verve and vigor, all her own.

I will never cease to thank the Universe for somehow giving me moxie – to have Moxie.

moxie collage




I love you, Moxie. Happy birthday, baby.



is a deaf blogger, global nomad, tech-junkie, cat-lover, Trekkie, Celto-Teutonic-peasant-handed mom of 3 (one with Down syndrome and one gifted 2E).
She likes her coffee black and hot.
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