Parenting
Years ago, I found myself deeply engaged in discussions on the Baby Center Down Syndrome Forum. I was surrounded by an outpouring of questions, heartfelt stories, and the raw emotions that accompany parenting a child with special needs. One particular signature struck me: “I never knew I wanted a child with Down Syndrome until I had one.” The sentiment resonated profoundly with me, leaving a lasting impression.
At the time, I pondered the love behind those words and whether I could ever embrace that truth. I grappled with the idea of accepting my daughter, Lily, and her extra chromosome. The notion of cognitive disabilities was daunting and challenging for me to understand.
Fast forward to today, and I can say with absolute certainty: I never knew I wanted a child with Down Syndrome until I had Lily. Oh, how we cherish her!
Lily’s essence is a blend of who she is and the unique traits that come with her extra chromosome. Some of the behaviors that we find endearing echo those shared by others in this community. For instance, she possesses an uncanny ability to sense my emotions. While she may not shower me with hugs and kisses often, there are moments when I’m overwhelmed with sadness, and she intuitively comes to me, cupping my face in her tiny hands and planting a gentle kiss on my cheek. My daughter, my heart.
I must admit, I was quite skeptical for a long time. During my pregnancy with Lily, I read all the accounts of mothers who found joy in raising children with Down Syndrome. My thoughts were filled with skepticism: “That’s nice for them, but I’d still prefer a child without Down Syndrome.” Deep down, I struggled to believe anyone could find genuine acceptance or even joy in an intellectual disability.
Now, as I write this, I reflect on my past self and wonder what my old friends might think. I can practically hear them saying I’ve changed a lot or questioning the authenticity of my feelings.
To make this clear: I have changed.
Some might argue, “It’s easy for you to love Lily because she’s ‘high functioning’ or something.” I have a strong aversion to labels like “high functioning” or “low functioning.” Moreover, I’d like to clarify that Lily isn’t necessarily “high functioning.” She’s over three years old and may only say about five words. Sure, she comprehends a lot of what we say, but her verbal skills are still developing.
Lily is not defined by any label; she’s simply a little girl with Down Syndrome. That additional chromosome is an integral part of who she is, and as I grow to understand her, I find myself loving every facet of her being more and more. The words often elude me when I try to articulate this bond.
I never knew I wanted a child with Down syndrome until I received the gift of Lily.
For more insights into pregnancy and the journey of parenthood, this CDC resource offers excellent guidance. If you’re exploring options for home insemination, check out this post on Intracervical Insemination and visit Make A Mom for expert advice.
Summary:
The author reflects on her journey of accepting and embracing her child, Lily, who has Down Syndrome. Initially skeptical, she discovers profound love and connection that transcends labels and expectations, ultimately realizing that she never knew she wanted a child with Down Syndrome until she experienced the joy of motherhood.