Posted on 07/12/2006 1:00:02 PM PDT by madprof98
We don't feel capable of raising a severely disabled child. It would be different if we didn't have a choice, but we do.
A tear creeps down my cheek when she says it's a girl. I don't know why that makes me cry.
I'd really rather not know. She assumes that like most expectant parents we want to know.
But as its turning out, we aren't like most expectant parents.
We could be, though. In many ways my 45-year-old husband and I could be perfect parents. We're professionals, with university degrees, own our own house, it's even paid off (we're financially careful yuppies). We're also fit -- we do Ironman events, marathons, play golf, travel and help support my parents. But being healthy, and looking 10 years younger isn't enough to fool the gods that govern genetics. It turns out my 40-year-old eggs don't give a hoot that I'm physically fit.
And now our unexpected late-life gift, our 19-week-old miracle is turning out to be tragically flawed. A dreaded extra chromosome -- a triple X -- has robbed us of a healthy baby, the geneticist quietly tells us our child will be significantly lower functioning than other children. Definitely not the treasured only child, the little athlete, we had only so recently and so tentatively allowed ourselves to dream about.
We leave the office in a fog. Instead of celebrating our seventh wedding anniversary this weekend, we now have to make a literally life-changing decision, one too sensitive to share with family or friends. No one has actually said the word, they don't have to. We know what our options: To continue the pregnancy or not?
I cry myself to sleep. My husband researches triple X on the computer. We have to decide quickly because it's already 19 weeks into the pregnancy. We don't feel capable of raising a severely disabled child. It would be different if we didn't have a choice, but we do. Isn't it more cruel to bring a child burdened with so many disadvantages into the world?
The geneticist's carefully chosen words describe the best-case scenario. What's the worst? my husband asks. Doctors won't speculate, but say if we decide to keep the child, they'd like to be "involved." (Ouch!)
We spend a tense weekend, each worried about the other's emotional state. We had already decided if it was a Down syndrome baby (one in 30 chance for a mother over 40) we wouldn't continue. I thought even my church-going mother (who goes door-to-door collecting money for those who are anti-abortion, and their pro-life campaign) could forgive that. But what about this situation; it's not quite Down syndrome, but it's close.
I already know we won't tell our parents.
My husband drives me to the non-descript house in a downtown Toronto neighbourhood. The security guard checks my name off her list and refuses to let my husband in (standard policy). I wait in the ominously quiet but cozy waiting room. I'm curious to see who else is here. A miserable-looking Asian woman, older and more visibly pregnant than I am studies her hands in her lap. I'm guessing she, too, has found something unbearable in her fetus. Two young women, with tattoos and a Queen Street vibe, seem nervous, but not grieving (I assume) unwanted pregnancies. I meet a lovely 47-year-old women from out of town. She has two children and a heart condition. She can't take birth control pills because of her age and health, and this unexpected pregnancy could be fatal. She's angry it took her doctor so long to figure out she was pregnant.
She had to drive two hours to get here.
The procedure is deceptively simple. Doctors call it a D & E , dilation and evacuate, better known as an abortion. The doctor inserts fragile slivers of seaweed into my cervix then waits for the porous pieces to swell and enlarge the opening. It takes two days. It's uncomfortable, but no worse that being pregnant. On the third day, when the cervix has dilated, the doctor clears out the uterus: the evacuation.
A nurse holds my hand throughout. It's oddly comforting. I keep my eyes shut, I don't want to see or hear anything. Afterward, I fight the urge to cry. Two women throw up -- a reaction to the medication. The nurse says they have 20 patients a day. I feel sorry for all of them.
Why can't we just go to the nearest hospital? I hate the sanctimonious people who have made this more difficult than it has to be. No one begrudges couples thwarting God's plan by spending tens of thousands of dollars on fertility drugs, in vitro treatments, donor eggs, sperm, and surrogate mothers -- they get sympathy. But if you don't want to keep a seriously flawed baby, you bundle your pain in guilt and shame.
The other woman waits for me to say goodbye. She whispers "Good luck, try again," and brings me to tears. My husband picks me up.
His work sends flowers to me: his wife who had a miscarriage.
That's what we tell our friends and parents as well.
C. Smyth lives in Toronto.
I have always wanted to ask people who support abortions of babies with Downs or other birth defects because the baby isn't "perfect" what they would plan to do if their next, "perfect" babies develops autism as a infant/toddler. Would they advocate killing those children? If not, what is the difference between killing a Down's Syndrome baby in the womb and killing an 18 month old because it has autism?
They're professional. They have degrees. They have financial security. They're fit. They have healthy lifestyles. They just didn't have a conscience, or a universe that contains anything other [or more important to them] than themselves. And the kid, by not being consistent with their self image, paid the price.
And, oh yeah, they have no shame. The article proves that.
I got sick reading the article. My son does not have Down Syndrome, but there are kids with Downs who are higher functioning than he is. Doctors have never been able to tell us the why/how, but he is my wonderful treasure from God. I can't imagine a day without his laughter and love, and all that he brings to this family. But what do I know? I never went to college, don't own our own home and the only shape I'm in is round. Not the "best" parent material by this woman's standards.
LIBERAL ANSWER: "If I kill the defective fetus I can then go and whoop it up for a couple of months in Paris before I get pregnant again. Who the hell wants a freak baby anyway? It would be such a drag on the Upper West Side..."
A couple with a Down's child sits close to us in church most Sundays.
He's about 5 years old and we have watched him grow from birth. He's a joy to his parents and everyone he meets. How some ghouls can deem such a sweet fellow unworthy of life is astonishing.
My wife and I were warned about the possibility of Down's when we discovered she was pregnant last year (my wife is pushing 40). I thought about the little guy from church. I knew I could live with that and raise such a child with all the love in the world.
Certainly, the thought of killing our baby was not even considered.
I refused all such tests in all four of my pregnancies, because there would be no "choice" to be made.
The assumption this women made that killing a Down Syndrome baby would be fine with pro-lifers is nauseating too.
People who love their children deal with it. Monsters who can't be bothered with less than perfect children, kill them.
To add some disgust, we're not talking about a gross (by which I mean "huge") problem here, just a marginal problem that every kid has of some kind.
Indeed, odd were that her daughter would have been fine, just from looking at Web MD:
"Triplo X Syndrome is a chromosomal abnormality that affects females. Females normally have two X chromosomes; however, those with Triplo X Syndrome carry three X chromosomes (trisomy X) in the nuclei of body cells. No specific pattern of symptoms and malformations (phenotype) has been found to be associated with this abnormal chromosomal make-up (i.e., 47,XXX karyotype). Many affected females appear to have no or very few associated symptoms, while others may have various abnormalities.
However, investigators indicate that Triplo X Syndrome is a relatively common cause of learning difficulties, particularly language-based disabilities (e.g., dyslexia), in females. Evidence suggests that affected females typically have normal intelligence with IQs that tend to be lower than that of their brothers and sisters (siblings). Mental retardation rarely occurs. Infants and children with Triplo X Syndrome may tend to have delayed acquisition of certain motor skills and delayed language and speech development.
Affected females often are of tall stature. According to researchers, although sexual development and fertility are usually normal, some may have delayed puberty and/or fertility problems. In addition, in some cases, certain physical abnormalities have been reported, such as a relatively small head, vertical skin folds that may cover the eyes' inner corners (epicanthal folds), and/or other findings. Triplo X Syndrome results from errors during the division of reproductive cells in one of the parents."
God forbid they got a shy bookworm.
I felt the same way - she did not have a miscarriage. This is the most selfish story I've ever seen. She wants sympathy???? she has got to be kidding herself.
It's kind of sad that in these cases the ones whom our society would be better off without (the selfish "parents") aren't the ones who lose their lives.
"I refused all such tests in all four of my pregnancies, because there would be no "choice" to be made."
Yep, we did it only because we had multiples (twins) before and were trying to figure out if Mrs. MWT was going to have to be on bed rest for six months again.
Today the little monkey has figured out she can grab ahold of a kitchen table (normal height), do a finger-tip pull up (tough for an adult) and flip up onto the table.
Rather impressive upper body strength for a 20 month old, but scary. We're trying to stop it.
My wife and I have been trying to get pregnant since our son was born 4 yrs ago. My wife just turned 41, and I'll be 50 in September, but we feel that it is important for our son to have a sibling, and if that sibling has Down's, so-what!
Back when my wife was pregnant the OB GYN asked if we wanted to have any tests done to determine the potential for Down's and we told him that it wouldn't make any difference we were going to go through with the pregnancy regardless. Our son was 10-lbs even and scored perfect 10 on his Apgar test.
I agree. I've often wanted to confront the people in these kinds of article and throw a modified verison of the line from "A Christmas Carol" at them.
"The life of one of these so called 'imperfect' human beings may be worth more to God than millions like you."
The Water Bearer
A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master's house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water in his master's house.
Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream.
"I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you."
"Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?"
"I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.
The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path. Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its failure.
The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."
What a mother you must be...your little girl is so lucky to have you. May God bless you both!
I feel so sad when I hear of an abortion. I also feel sad when I hear of a couple, well past their prime, having children.
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