Sunday, June 27, 2010

Into the Vortex and Then Back Out, Sort Of

The last time I posted, other than to say that one could now subscribe to this blog, I shared the news that I was pregnant with our second child. I also said that I was going to share more stories about being a mother.

And then silence.

On this blog.

But not in my mind, nor in my heart. There was turmoil, noise, anguish, sorrow, despair, like I have never experienced before in my life.

Our second child, our little boy, at six months in the womb, was diagnosed with a rare genetic disorder that would have left him seriously debilitated, both physical and mentally, and he would also, most likely, have developed leukemia.

In our modern age of technology, as parents, we were faced with the most painful decision a parent could ever make.

Do you keep your child or do you send his soul back to the heavens?

Twenty years ago, an acquaintance I didn't much like, ended her pregnancy in her sixth month, because doctors discovered that her firstborn had Down Syndrome.

I judged her very harshly for ending the pregnancy. For someone who was hell on wheels towards others, I found her weak and spineless, in this situation.

She is the first one I thought of when the doctors confirmed that our baby boy was very sick.

It was only when my husband and I were faced with the same decision all these years later, that I could begin to understand the suffering that this woman must have gone through. The old dictum goes, "You don't really know a person until you've walked in their shoes."

Well, if I could have given those shoes back, I would have.

I don't wish the choice on my worst enemy.

You come together with your partner with the deepest sense of love, you conceive a child that is wanted, a child that will become your son and the brother to your firstborn. And then that child has a condition that will cause him tremendous suffering. And so, out of the deepest love, you send him back to the angels.

And then you are left here on Earth to live with your choice.


Kathryn U said...

O Dya. How my heart aches for you. I admire this post very much.

sumo champ said...

i just read this, dya. over 1/2 year after you posted this, i am heartbroken for you, my friend -- what a difficult decision to make. yet, as usual, your wisdom shines through: the understanding of judgements you made long ago...

-me... nay.

Dya Englert said...

Thanks Me-nay. I really appreciate it. It took until now to have a semblance of normalcy.