Wonderful responses to that last post, and I truly appreciate everyone's perspectives.
I guess I feel the need to defend, or explain, or clarify . . . or something . . . myself. I just don't want anyone to think that I sit around constantly consumed with the fact that Finn has Ds, or that I am forever lamenting it. For the most part, he's just my sweet baby boy. There are just times, however, when the reality (or my perceived reality, anyway) hits me like a blow to the gut. And Daisy's question yesterday about whether Finn will be a daddy when he grows up was just one of those times.
It's not like I'm sitting here wishing for a cure for Ds. And my post really wasn't about finding a cure. It was just about sometimes feeling sad about all the ways in which Finn's life will be different - and yes, more difficult - because of his Ds. I don't have this need to have perfect children. None of my children are perfect. And I realize that their lives may not (probably won't) turn out the way I might be envisioning them. But at least they have options. They will have choices and possibilities and opportunities that Finn will never ever have - because he has Down syndrome.
It's true that the fact that he has Ds is opening our hearts and minds in ways they may never have been opened had we never had a child with Ds. But I still wish he didn't have Ds. It's not that I wish he were inherently different, or that I wish he were a different baby. What I wish is that he were him, just as he is, but without the Down syndrome.
The truth is that Michael's having cancer has brought some positives for us as well: it has certainly made us sit down and examine what's really important and what's not; it has cemented our marriage even more than it was cemented before; and it's even brought a new closeness between me and my sister-in-law. I'm grateful for all those things. But I still wish Michael didn't have cancer.
All this I wish, I wish, I wish . . . I realize it's a waste of time and energy, I really do. And I truly don't usually expend too much time or energy wishing about things that I cannot change. But I have my moments. Moments when I realize what might have been but probably never will be. And I feel sad at those times. And that's okay, right?
Adieu - After more than two years and 555 posts (556 counting this one!), I'm saying goodbye to Adventures in Motherhood. I'm ready for a change, and I've started ...
6 years ago