November thanksgiving 22: I "chose" a mortal life

In January of 1994, we moved from Michigan to Ohio, back near my homeground. We lived in a temporary apartment for a month, then moved into our first house. WIthin a week or two, I received a call from my OB-GYN's nurse, informing me that the results of an AFP test showed that there was a 1 in 33 chance that the baby I was carrying had Down syndrome. I didn't know much about Down syndrome back then, but I knew enough for the news to result in a good cry, so I had one.

I didn't undergo amniocentesis to obtain a definitive diagnosis, because I knew amnios increase the risk of miscarriage. I knew that I would carry the baby to term regardless of the results. Intellectually, I believed abortion was murder; emotionally, I recognized my baby as a person.

I did not choose life for my son. He was given it by Someone else. What I chose was a "mortal" life for myself. I accepted a life that had some limitations it would not have had, if I had collaborated in ending my son's life before his birth.

When I chose a college, when I chose a major, when I chose a husband, I accepted the accompanying limitations. Accepting boundaries was a submission to the truth of my finity. I cannot live forever, experience everything, everywhere.

My life was bounded by many parameters before I became pregnant. Having a child would add to them. So would having a child with Down syndrome.

When I received the phone call from the nurse, I did not see my child as an object of the verb "to choose," but of the verb "to give." He was part of the given. In accepting the gift, and the limitations that would come along with it, I assented to the truth: a mortal life has many limitations, and a person in touch with Reality accepts them.

Crying on the couch, back in February of 1994, I did not so much choose a mortal life for myself, as continue to accept one. And this Thanksgiving, I'm thankful, from the bottom of my heart, that I did.