Okay, I know this is sort of cheating . . . but not really. I think the beginning of our particular story is worth sharing here, and so, instead of rewriting it, I’m going to borrow from what I wrote at the time.
Start here ——–> The Story of Finnian’s Birth
Go here next ——–> Finding Out . . .
I have to say, reading these things I wrote so long ago even now gives me goosebumps and brings tears to my eyes. I can so clearly remember those feelings of bewilderment and fear, and even anger at what felt like the unfairness of it all, but it all seems like a distant dream now.
A lot of parents who have kids with Down syndrome say that they wish they could go back to that scared, sad person they were when they first found out and tell them that everything was going to be okay. I’m pretty sure I did have people telling me it was going to be okay, but I doubt I believed them. While I was – and still am – extremely grateful that the people who might have been expected to paint a bleak picture for us (the doctors and nurses) didn’t, I know I also resented anyone trying to paint an especially rosy picture for us (and in fact, one friendship ended over that, over what I perceived to be her unwillingness or inability to just allow me to grieve and process my feelings). I think coming to terms with it all – the shock, the grief, the fear, the acceptance, and ultimately, in most cases, a true embracement – it’s just a process that every parent in this situation has to go through, and everyone goes through that process a little differently and at a different pace. I had to get to know Finn myself, without being clouded by anyone else’s projections. In the beginning, I just wanted – needed – him to just be my baby. And really, that’s exactly what he was.
And let me tell you: this little boy grabbed my heart and ran away with it long ago.