Emily Richey is a graduate of Pace University NYC. She has written and edited for multiple online platforms, including Love What Matters. She spends her free time petting stray cats.

Emily Richey is a graduate of Pace University NYC. She has written and edited for multiple online platforms, including Love What Matters. She spends her free time petting stray cats.
“I remember the distress I felt. ‘Why is my hard work not paying off?’ I just wanted to give up and hide from the world. I thought I wasn’t worthy of love. I mean, who could possibly love such an ugly face? At my lowest point, I met a boy. He made me realize I was so much more.”
“Over the course of 9 months, it never once occurred to us there could be something wrong. The day before we left the hospital, a nurse casually mentioned, ‘Cooper hasn’t passed his mandatory newborn screening.’ I did a little research. By the time we got the diagnosis, I already knew.”
“We finally arrived at the location. We all got out and began talking over everything and went to get on the bus to get a thorough look at it. Braylee didn’t miss a beat. She hopped right into the bus, fastened herself right into the harness, and began singing loud and proudly, ‘Wheels on the Bus.’”
“A nurse said, ‘Do you want a picture?’ I abruptly said, ‘No.’ I was trying to erase the past 6 hours from my memory. I didn’t even know if my baby would survive. Why would I want a picture or anything that would make me feel attached to this little creature? Baby B was barely alive.”
“A week later, I got a phone call from the abortion clinic to schedule an appointment. It turns out my doctor and his wife aborted their child with down syndrome because they thought he or she would become a burden. He thought I should do the same.”
“I went from busy full days of work to barely handling the commute. I struggled to keep up with other moms my age. Misconceptions such as, ‘Young people can’t get it,’ and ‘You look totally healthy,’ infuriated me. It’s not just a disease for the elderly. I wasn’t fighting only for myself, but also my son.”
“We were isolated for 28 days in the hospital room. He was immunocompromised. Our world consisted of hand sanitizer, hospital masks, and surgical gloves to avoid contamination. As we watch the news, we hear the increasing mortality rates for coronavirus, some 3%. I would’ve given anything to hear those numbers for my son. Normalcy was ripped from our hands.”
”I asked my Gramma once, ‘Why do day-lilies only last for one day?’ She just smiled at me and said, ‘Well sweetie, when you are that beautiful, I guess one day is enough.’ We woke up and headed to our baby’s room. We were greeted in the hallway by one of her doctors. ‘I don’t think she’s going to make it through the day.’ We promised to do whatever she wanted.”
“I noticed her ear looked small, but I chalked it up to the typical squishiness of a newborn. ‘So what? What is the point of showing me her differences?’ She has underdeveloped ears, cheekbones, and jaw that make her appear a little different than most of us. I just stared at her in awe, with nothing but love and admiration.”
“She asked us, ‘Did you know he has Down syndrome?’ I was a little shocked. We told her, ‘No, we haven’t noticed.’ She simply said, ‘Well, he does,’ and walked straight out of the room. Her tone and her demeanor were so condescending. I instantly felt fear, anger, and guilt wash over. There were no offers for resources, no books or pamphlets, no direction on what to do next.”