"God knew I'd be the best brother for her."

Ben. It's hard to know where to start when I think about this beautiful boy filled with limitless love that entered into this family as our first born. Before I got pregnant with him, I had a dream of a faceless baby wrapped in a blue blanket. Despite my confidence that we were going to have a girl, that dream came true. I can hardly remember my life without him. He is such a perfect mashup of Rob and I. He's smart, funny, loving, observant, compassionate, and has so many other amazing qualities. He's cute as heck too. God help me when he hits puberty. It's not far... I can feel it. The pre-teen attitude is starting to come out.

Ben has always been a loving kid. When he was around 3 years old, his daycare teacher pulled me aside one afternoon. She said, "he stood up for a little boy in his class the other day when some other kids were not being nice to him. He played with that little boy all day and they had so much fun." Even though we live far away from this boy now, Ben still can't wait to see him when we travel back to Oklahoma. They've always had this special bond, and they always have so much fun. When they get together, it's like we never moved away. Like they just saw each other last week.

We've often described Ben as the one to stand up to bullies, the one who goes against what others are doing if he thinks it's wrong. Even when we moved earlier this year, and he had a much harder time making friends than ever before, he chose friends based on who they were and what they showed him. He chose to stay away from kids who did not seem like they wanted to be, as he said, "good friends."

Once we had Evie and spent all of that time in the NICU, survival mode changed everything. One thing I felt very deeply is the guilt that I wasn't there for him in the way I wanted to be. The way he deserved for me to be. I was at the NICU for two weeks with Evie. When I did see him, even when we left the hospital to spend time together, I felt so torn between being with him and being with her. He always had a big hug and a smile for me. He wanted to have fun and do things together. We did. We went to the aquarium one day, just the two of us. Daddy stayed in the hospital with Evie. He showed me so much, and I was in absolute awe of him.

I always cried when he and Rob had to head home so he could go back to school. It hurt my heart to be away from him. One thing I'll never forget was how he called every afternoon to read to Evie on Facetime. Ben read all kinds of books to her. I remember when he read this one particular book about sea creatures, he didn't show pictures of the fish he thought would be too scary for her. He was so kind and compassionate and mindful of her being so little.

Rob told me about a moment he had with Ben right after we received the official diagnosis of Trisomy21, when Evie and I were still in the NICU. He took Ben into the reading room and told him. His response was "God knew I would be an extra special brother, so He gave me an extra special sister."

When we finally got to go home from the NICU, the four of us were finally together for the first time in two weeks. Originally Ben was sitting the back of the truck with Evie, but he was so worried about her oxygen and ng tube and the sensors. He was worried that he wouldn't know what to do. As soon as he said that, I got in the back seat too. He just gets to be the big brother, after all. He relaxed and enjoyed holding her hand, talking to her, and showing her things.

Those first several weeks at home, I know I was a mess. I was in pure survival mode and struggling with the thoughts that I wouldn't be enough and something would happen to her because of me. Couple that with the thoughts that I was not there for Ben in the same way I used to be... well, I felt like a terrible mother. He was spending more time on his iPad than ever before. I couldn't just spend time with him without Evie, or without making sure something Evie-related got done. I was still so scared that I was going to do something wrong and lose her, or if I left her with anyone else something bad would happen and I wouldn't be there. At one point, even my mom told me, "You know, I used to think you were a great mom. Now I know you're not." That burned me to my core. At first I was so incredibly angry and very hurt. Looking back, I know it's because it was a confirmation of what I was already telling myself. It confirmed what that voice that was telling me: I wasn't good enough for Evie. It confirmed that it was my fault we had to feed her through a tube. It was going to be my fault if she aspirated, drowned, suffocated. It also confirmed that I wasn't good enough for Ben. I was no longer a good mother to the boy who had my heart, my focus, and my time for 9 1/2 years. He was my everything, and now I wasn't good enough for him. I was failing him too.

Now though, I understand trauma and how it affected me. I know we were all in survival mode. I know Rob was trying to get through the work days and provide and be there for the rest of us, while also in survival mode. I know Ben turned to his iPad to escape all of the stress and uncertainty that seemed to fill the house.

That period marked a turning point for me. A realization that I had to take better care of myself so that I could be a better mom to my kids. I made some changes, made it okay for my parents to go home, and forced myself to find what was to be our new normal.

As soon as I figured out how to travel alone with my kids, I started taking Ben to his jiu-jitsu training three days a week. I had to lug a huge bag around that held Evie's monitors, oxygen tank, and feeding pump, as well as her carseat, but I was there. I watched him and cheered him on. This boy. Y'all to this day he makes my heart explode with admiration. As soon as we started taking Evie out in public he started showing her off. He wanted everyone to meet her. He was so proud of her. He explained her tubes to his classmates and peers. He talked about how cute she was and the things she likes.

When Evie no longer needed to be on oxygen, he'd take her out on the jiu-jitsu mat with him and his coach. They would talk to her and Ben would pretend to roll with her. He would show her off to his teammates and then bring her back to me before class started. I have so many pictures of him holding her on the mats, playing with her. Promising to teach and protect her.

One day we were driving home from school and he started telling me about a classmate of his who is mean to his siblings. "He says he hates having little siblings" he said. He went on to tell me about how some of his friends say that they wish they never had siblings. Inside I wondered if he agreed with them, after all he'd been through over the last two months. "What do you think about that, my boy?" I waited with bated breath. He was tearful and said, "I don't think they realize how lucky they are. I wanted a sibling for so long. I wanted a brother, but I love our girl." I held his hand and told him how wonderful he is. How proud I am to be his mom, and how lucky Evie is to have him as a big brother.

After Evie was born, and many times since then, Ben has asserted at that God knew he'd be the perfect brother for her. He is so right. We had Ben when we did to teach us so much about unconditional love, patience, how to have fun, and making memories over buying stuff. We had to wait for Evie because she was going to take those lessons to a new level. I know Ben's life changed so drastically, and I believe that he grieved moving from a one and only to a big brother. I know he was scared, sad, confused, and also so proud. I also know he is such an incredible person. While it is certainly not his job to take care of any of us, his compassion and willingness to care for others and himself continue to play its part in creating an amazing life.

To Ben: I thank you, my wonderful Benton Bear. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for those times. You know why? Because you gave me faith and hope that everything would be okay. You reminded me to play. You taught me that things won't always be this hard. I wish this wasn't a burden you had to bear, my sweet boy, but you found your way to love through it.