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.

Forgiveness

Joan Medlin, mother of a son with a dual diagnosis (Down syndrome and autism), recently posted An Effective Complement: Advocacy & Forgiveness,* on the Disability Solutions web site. She writes:

Over the years, I’ve had to advocate staunchly for my son . . . . In those early years I was devastated after every meeting. I felt exhausted—like one of the “Dementors” from Harry Potter had sucked all but a last breath from me. In just a short time, “advocacy” became synonymous with anger and frustration.

She validates the feelings of parents:

I agree that more often than not parents have a lot to be frustrated and angry about. Constantly maneuvering to find someone who sees your child as a great kid (rather than being told all the things he can’t do) is not easy. Living under the microscope of special education without feeling judged at some point is impossible. The evaluation” is not limited to academics, school situations, or your child’s strengths. Folks tend to want to know just what it is we’re doing at home to teach our children.

I’ve been doing some reading on forgiveness over the past year. I am increasingly convinced it is the missing link in advocacy efforts.

She describes what forgiveness is, and what it is not, then goes on to say:

I believe forgiveness strengthens my ability to advocate effectively. By letting go of resentment and anger, people are more willing to talk and problem-solve. They are less likely to worry the discussion will become a battle with an angry parent. Remember, forgiving someone does not mean they are not accountable for their actions. No one loses their rights by forgiving an injustice.

This is a timely article. Like Joan, I have experienced frustration in dealing with educators, medical professionals, and social service providers. Joan is bringing a gift to this "field of discourse" by introducing the issue of forgiveness. We need the healing and empowerment it can bring, for both ourselves and our children.

Joan, who is also editor of Disability Solutions, is a nutritionist and author of The Down Syndrome Nutrition Handbook: A Guide to Promoting Healthy Lifestyles.

*This article was posted October 12, and will eventually disappear from this web site and be linked by date at the bottom of it.

Invitation

When you Give a Luncheon OR a dinner partY,

don'T invite yOur friends or your brothers or relations or wealthy

neiGhbors, for the chances are they will invite yOu back, anD

you wIll be fully repaid. No, when you give a

parTy, invite tHE poor, the lame, the crippled, and the blind. That way lies real happiness for you. They
Have no means of repayInG you, but you will be repaid wHen

good men are rewarded-- at thE reSurrecTion.
Luke 14:12-14 (Phillips)
Recommended Reading: Dancing with Disabilites: Opening the Church to All God's Children, by Brett Webb-Mitchell