Friday, November 28, 2008

The news, part 2

After being home for just under a week, we had our first pediatrician's appointment. My doctor came in and went right back out to get some paperwork (I knew it was the result of our genetics testing...the karyotype test that would give us our fate). She sat down beside me and said, "Morgan, we got your test results back, and they're positive for Trisomy 21 that's consistent with Down syndrome." I took a deep breath, said ok, and tried to keep it together, which I did successfully for about 3 minutes before my chin began to tremble and the tears pooled in my eyes. You know, we knew this was a possibility, but it didn't make it any easier when we received the news. I guess that as a middle school teacher I see how hard life can be for kids who are different. My poor kid will always be the kid that others say, "Aw, he's so cute" about. Or the one they make fun of. Or the one who has the false impression of friends. Or the one who would manage the teams but never truly a part of them. Immediately flashes of what wasn't to be ran through my mind at a million miles an hour. I couldn't help but mourn and grieve for what wouldn't be for my child.

I called Dan to see when he was coming home. He could tell something was wrong but played along w/ my charade. As soon as I hung up, I received a text from him asking if I needed him to come home now. I responded and told him I was fine. The next second he sent one back asking if Bear had Downs. As much as I wanted to ignore that text and just allow him to go through the last couple of hours of work, I couldn't hide this from him. I wrote back yes, and he was home within 20 minutes. I tried to be strong but couldn't help from crying We both did our share of crying that night as we shared the news with family, gave up dreams we had for our child, and prepared to face the unknown.

Today, 5 days after receiving the news, I can honestly say I'm at a much better place than I was on Monday. However, it doesn't mean I don't still grieve the child that could've been. Yet I know there's so much in store for us. I read all these encouraging accounts of parents of children with Down syndrome, and they speak of unconditional, unspeakable love that results from their child. In fact, that's all that anyone can say right now in an effort to comfort me. But that's easy to say when you're sitting on their side of the fence. When you don't have a child w/ special needs, it's easy to tell people about how he's going to be so loving and how we'll all love him so much and learn so much from him, etc. It doesn't make it any easier for me to let go of what could've been. I know God will heal all of that in time; I trust he will. I know eventually I'll enjoy Holland (if you don't get this allusion, there's a pretty cool story out there...just can't think of the title right now). But right now, is it ok if I have a bit of a pity party and feel a little resentful about it?
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