27
I’m a Control Freak, a Perfectionist! I admit it!
I’ve always needed things to be done my way. I had what I considered to be the perfect life. A nice house, a great career, an amazing husband and a beautiful, perfect daughter. And if things weren’t perfect enough, the day before my 10 year wedding anniversary, I found out I was expecting Identical Twins. How PERFECT!
How could I be so incredibly lucky?? How could I have been so blessed as to have been given TWO babies? Identical twins are so rare! I hit the jackpot!
What an incredible gift!
The weeks following the initial ultrasound were pure bliss, that is, until an ultrasound at 12 weeks revealed that both babies could possibly have Down syndrome.
My heart sank. Surely this was a mistake. I wasn’t even 35 yet! Down Syndrome didn’t run in the family, I ate a very healthy organic diet, and I was a good person, dammit!!! A very nice person!! What horrible thing did I do to deserve to be punished in this way? Why was this happening to ME?
I knew what Down syndrome was, and it wasn’t good! Some of the grocery baggers at the supermarket had it. I would greet them with a strained “Hello” feeling sorry for them. I’ve even seen some babies at the park with it. Those poor babies, I couldn’t even look at them, smile at them like I did with other babies in strollers because I knew their mothers would think I was doing it out of pity. Poor mothers. Down syndrome was not good, at all! It was the worst thing that could possibly happen.
My husband and I decided to confirm the diagnosis via a new, highly accurate, non-invasive blood test. We waited two grueling weeks for the results. They came back positive for Down syndrome.
We were devastated. I cried, a lot. I cursed the heavens above for this cruel joke. How could I have been given such a beautiful gift, then have it turned into something so abnormal? What would our family say? What would our friends think? What would our babies look like? What would their futures be like?
I thought of all the times I looked
away from the “poor babies”
with Down syndrome and felt
tremendous pity for their mothers.
Now I was one of them. My perfect life was now soiled and imperfect.
I was in pain. I was mourning the loss of the children I thought I would have. I had no control over this!
Seeking some sort of solace, I reached out to several Down syndrome pregnancy support groups on the internet. I posted my introduction, reluctant and shameful, ”Hi, I’m Venessa and my babies have Down Syndrome”.
I expected condolences, virtual hugs, some advice for not bursting into tears in front of my daugher.
Instead, hundreds of people responded with “CONGRATULATIONS!”. They all said nearly the same thing, that children with Down syndrome are a blessing, they would change my life and the lives of the people around them in the most amazing and beautiful way.
That they were perfection.
“Perfection”, really?
I looked over the flood of photos they shared with me of their adorable little babies, their toddlers, teenagers, adult children, their beloved aunts, uncles and cousins, all with Down syndrome.
They were photographed on vacation, at school, at parties. Just like us, they were living normal lives.
It all seemed so positive, no doom and gloom.