Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Beyond Acceptance


Last night I caught a few minutes of the Olympics. There was a segment in which Bob Costas sat down with Tom Brokaw, and they were talking about former Olympic snowboarder hopeful, Kevin Pearce, who sustained critical head injuries while training in Utah in December. Kevin remains hospitalized and is undergoing rehabilitation. His doctors and family hope that one day he will be able to speak again, and walk unassisted again. Life can change in the blink of an eye.

The segment on TV revealed that Kevin is the youngest of four boys in what appears to be a loving, close-knit family. I was really struck by the interviews with his family members.

And then, there it was: one of Kevin's brothers, a young man by the name of David, has Down syndrome. There was footage of Kevin, before his accident, with David, and then interview footage of David talking about his brother. I stood there watching with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. And a feeling of peace washed over me.

It's the exact feeling I had when I saw Finn pull up to standing by himself for the first time a couple days ago. This little voice inside me whispered, "He's going to be fine. He is fine."

I know that Finn is never going to fit into the parameters of what most people consider "normal" or "typical." I know he will talk differently than most, and walk differently. I know that he will never be a brain surgeon or a rocket scientist. I know that he will always have limitations that most people don't have.

That's, I guess, the "down" side of Down syndrome.

But I don't care. I had this quiet realization recently - very recently: I would not change a single thing about Finn. No, I would not even change the fact that he has Down syndrome if I could. It was not all that long ago that I would have made the opposite statement. It wasn't long ago when I felt and said, "I love Finn with all my heart, but if I could take away the Down syndrome? Yes, I would." I am realizing now, though, that my heart, and maybe my head, are in a different place now. I don't know where the change has come from. I think the path of acceptance is a winding one, with lots of corners, bumps, valleys, potholes, and sometimes even hairpin turns. There is a lifetime ahead of Finn, and I am not fool enough to think that there won't be times in the future when I might despair, when I might hate the Down syndrome.

But today, right now? Finn is perfect in my eyes - exactly the way he is. I can't imagine him any different from who he is, and truth be told, that extra chromosome he sports in all his billions of little cells is an integral part of him. Without Ds, Finn would be a completely different Finn. I don't want a different Finn. Would I change the world? And all it's misconceptions about people like my son? And all it's cruelty and indifference? Yes, most definitely. But Finn? I wouldn't change a single thing about him.

I feel at peace.

14 comments:

Mel said...

I found myself saying the same thing just this week, and remember thinking others I had heard saying the same thing before me were crazy. Now I'm crazy too!

Jessica said...

Very beautifully put! I feel the same way. That extra chromosome is a part of what makes my son who he is, and I LOVE who he is!

Lisa said...

Basking in your glorious peace... it feels good, right? I love it. :)

Loren Stow said...

Beautifully said!

Anonymous said...

Welcome. Wonderful!

Anonymous said...

Your deep unconditional love for Finn comes through loud and clear. I loved reading this post.

Erin said...

I couldn't agree more. I'm so happy for you! It has also just been in the last couple weeks that I felt the same kind of peace and knowing that Addie is going to be just fine...thanks for sharing your heart, it is very clear where it's at. =)

Crittle said...

I didn't know about Kevin Pearce before now. Thank you so, so much for sharing their story.

Monica Crumley said...

Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Lisa. Not only has Finn come a long way, but you have too. I cried all 3 times I watched the interview with the Pearces. Kevin and David's mom has been on our similar journey and is 24 years into it. I used to feel sad/pity for families like theirs (long time ago!), but now I just pray that I can be like them.

Tara said...

What a wonderful place to be. I, too, cried during that interview. I've been following their story since before the accident and they do seem to be an awesome family. The bond between David and Kevin is pretty cool. I am so excited about my kids having that bond as adults. My sister is convinced that Eon's older brother Zak will encourage him to fully enjoy life and his older brother Ben will make sure he stays safe and well cared for. I can't wait to see it unfold. :)

Sharon said...

Cried like a baby while I was reading this. Guess it really struck a chord with me. I feel forever grateful for having Brennan in my life and only wish that others could understand that in the way that we do. Seeing the Pearce family was amazing, too.

Kelly said...

Lisa, I couldn't agree more. Very beautiful post! Finn is one lucky little boy to have you for his mama!

Cheryl said...

You made me cry.
I wouldn't change one thing about my daughter (who is sitting in my lap and singing at the top of her voice)and I couldn't say that before.I love my girl AND her Down syndrome.

Melissa said...

Thank you so much for this wonderful post! DH and I were just talking about this the other night. The fact is, I'm not there yet. I love Claire totally and completley, but right now, I would still take away the DS if I could. You are in a beautiful place, and I can't wait to get there!