June 28th, 2010
Choices.
My friend is expecting, and learned today that her baby has a 1 in 2 chance of having Down syndrome. She text-messaged me this afternoon to tell me, and to say that she’s scared. And I understand why. How terrifying to A) not know and B) not know what it really means if the baby does have Down.
We talked on the phone tonight, and I tried very hard to be impartial. I even told her how hard it is for me to be impartial because parenting a child with special needs is hard, hard, hard, but it’s also wonderful and rewarding. It’s a life in which the small achievements are celebrated and the big ones are cause for a sigh of relief. It’s also a life in which plans are drastically altered, lifestyles are forcibly changed, emotions are drained and marriages are tested.
I don’t envy the position my friend is in. I had the luxury of not knowing. I believe that God understands the extent to which I can be a complete basket case, and therefore had mercy on me by concealing my daughter’s extra chromosome until birth. The moment I saw her, I knew, but I didn’t have an inkling before that.
Tomorrow, my friend visits a genetic counselor, who will walk her through the ins and outs of tests she can have, things she can expect. And while she’s in that meeting, I will be thinking of and praying for her. And hoping that the person helping her make decisions that will completely alter the course of her life offers a balanced perspective, not just a clinical checklist of all the problems a child with Down syndrome can have. I hope she won’t feel pressured to terminate, but instead will be presented with factual information so that she can decide with her head and her heart. Doctors, nurses and social workers mean well, but in many cases they just cause more despair.
And I hope that if the baby does have Down, I hope she will carry it, nurture it, love it and raise it. I won’t tell her that because just as I don’t want medical professionals to influence her, I don’t want to influence her. The last thing she needs is pressure from me to choose something I want, rather than what she knows is right for her. So I will only tell her that I love her, and I will support her in any way I can.
I hope that when she sees the ultrasound tomorrow, she will see the big picture. Not just the markers they’re looking for, or a problem with the heart, but the flesh and blood and bones that form a baby. Growing inside of her is the product of a man and woman who fell in love and made new life.
For more information about Down syndrome, please visit the National Down Syndrome Society website.
