I generally wear my heart on my sleeve. I'm very real about my life, thoughts, and emotions. I'm terrible about erecting walls. If you are not, you might be tempted to think that this is a good thing. Let me quickly assure you that it is not. With increased vulnerability, comes an increased risk for woundedness. One of my greatest fears is to be misunderstood.
It happened yesterday, in a group, of course. I felt attacked and retreated, but lost the opportunity to clarify, to be understood.
I returned home to lick my wounds and wonder why it had hurt so much. Why did I care so much what those people thought of me?
The conflict had nothing to do with Eon or Down syndrome, and yet my response had everything to do with them. I overreacted because I've been living in a state of high alert. I am constantly on the look-out for ways to advocate and educate.
Being the mother of a child with Down syndrome is much harder than I imagined, but not in the ways I thought it would be. Parenting Eon is a breeze! He is the easiest, most content, delightful baby I have ever had. Unlike my typical babies, I never tire of caring for him or meeting his needs. He is a complete joy!
But we live in a hateful, selfish world. I read wonderful articles advocating for people with Ds, and then scroll down to read vile, nasty comments. There are many who strongly advocate that aborting a baby with Ds is, not only acceptable, but rather the only responsible choice. There are many who are simply ignorant of today's Ds, and doggedly hold to the "what happens when you're gone and the siblings will have to care for them?" mentality. There are many more who are concerned with the monetary cost to society as a whole, a sentiment sure to spread like wildfire when the government gets through with healthcare.
The first group always shocks me, the second irritates me, and the third scares me.
And so, I continue to educate and advocate. But I get tired of the process. And he is only seven months old. I will be doing this forever. But not today. Today, I'm going to lick my wounds and hold my boy.