The Story Of “A” (Part 2)
(While I was finishing Part 1 of this series of posts, I had a chat with my husband about his memories of this event. So strange how we remember certain things the same and others differently. For the most part, it is our memory of the order or timing that seems to be different. Nonetheless, I will recount the events based on my memories.)
Too much
From the moment we learned that our baby had Down Syndrome I began to feel like I was drowning under the weight of all of it. Except for the actual “being pregnant” part, I felt thoroughly ill-equipped to deal with this situation. I knew nothing about the syndrome and was not even sure that I had ever met anyone with it. When a later scan revealed that the baby had a heart defect, it felt like all semblance of normality was gone. How were we supposed to decide whether or not to terminate this pregnancy? If we didn’t, what would raising this child be like?
Thank goodness for my husband! The only comment he made was that Down Syndrome wasn’t an issue for him but, with regards to the heart issue, he didn’t want to bring a child into the world who would suffer. He seemed so calm and collected. Me, on the other hand. On the outside I was functional, but inside I was a mess.
Heavy stuff
A childhood friend of my husband put us in contact with a pediatric cardiac surgeon. This doctor had a child with autism so she was more than sympathetic to our situation. We learned that many heart problems could be repaired depending on the issue but that often a second surgery was required when the child reached about 9 years old. We also asked about an issue close to my heart, breast-feeding. I had fed my first two for about 2 years each and would want to do the same for this child. The doctor pointed out that this would probably be impossible due to the weakness of the baby with a heart problem. While not the most serious of issues, this one was really hard to hear.
We also had family members passing on information about programs for children with Down Syndrome at different ages. Several of them had worked with and/or lived with young adults with the syndrome and had some experience. Others expressed concern for us as older parents and the possibility of having this individual living with us for the rest of our lives.
It was so much to think about and it was truly overwhelming.
What about our other children?
At the time all of this was going on my daughter was about 7 and my son was about 2. We didn’t tell them what was going on but I imagine they must have noticed the weird energy. Maybe, maybe not. I remember hugs and walks and meals and playing and going about our daily lives. Strange to think that something so heavy was transpiring and yet I was changing diapers and building Megablock towers as if all was normal. I have a feeling that I wasn’t as present as I think that I was and that my husband probably picked up a lot of the slack during that time. Thank goodness for that. He always was and continues to be an amazing dad and partner.
Metro and the brat helped me decide
I later learned that once Robert knew that the heart issue was repairable and thus his child would not live a life of suffering, he was all in. What he told me was that as I was carrying the baby he would let me decide. I realized later that he somehow knew what I would decide but he wanted to let me get there on my own.
Honestly, it was a horrible bunch of weeks for me. Sort of glad that I didn’t have the pressure of knowing his choice. I cannot remember being more depressed in my life…and I have lived through some serious stuff. I have always been pro-choice. But contemplating exercising that right is entirely another thing!
After weeks of indecision, being distracted, and gut-wrenching crying in secret, the decision came rather anti-climatically during a trip to the grocery store across the street.
Waiting at the register, I was in line behind a woman and her teenage son. They both looked like they had stepped out of a J. Crew catalog-clothing, looks, etc. This was way before Covid when people used to stand closer together so I couldn’t help but hear their conversation. He was mad because she wouldn’t buy him something and she was trying to reason with him politely. But my god! He was so rude to her! I was having a hard few weeks and, though I am not a violent person, I wanted to slap this kid! Here was this seemingly healthy, well-cared-for kid and he was acting truly horribly.
And it was at that moment I realized that you never truly know what kind of child you are going to get. Future serial killer, future nurse, future environmentalist, future arsonist, etc. They could be healthy, intelligent, and still be a jerk. I will point out that I didn’t have any teenagers at the time so I didn’t understand what I was seeing. Nonetheless, I owe that kid a thankyou.
When I walked back across the street my husband was in the driveway talking to one of his brothers. As I passed him I casually said, “Oh, we are keeping the baby” and continued into the house.
The decision was done and we never looked back.
