Thursday, February 4, 2010

I see me in you.

Day 3. Does this mean I'm an official Blogger? Get in line. We're a dime-a-dozen.
I actually had something on my mind in the middle of the night about Taylor, but when I checked my email, a good friend had commented on FaceBook about my blog. Here is what she said, "I remember our talking after our C. and C. were born -- comparing notes and understanding and congratulating each other. I also remember after Taylor and G. were born -- remember crying, partly in sadness for you, that you had not gotten that "perfect" baby, and partly in thanksgiving that it had been you instead of me. I know that is incredibly awful to admit in public, but it is true." It's so weird. I really appreciate this comment because I know it's so true. I also know the compassion and depth in this woman's heart. I have seen it borne out in a thousand ways. And anyway, I am you. I am that other person who feels just like you. When I was young (er) I used to see a mother at Legion Pool with a handicapped daughter. I would feel physically sick and wonder how on earth--- that mother could love her daughter. I just did not know how someone could reach down into her very cell membranes and find love--and acceptance for somebody so "imperfect." Looking back...yes, always looking back....I see that it was (and still is) my own self that I am afraid of. When we see something in another person that scares us or makes us uneasy, it is always always always about our fears about ourselves. So what was I so afraid of when I saw that "imperfect" child being loved and cared for by her mother? Well, after years of therapy, I am here to tell you that I probably didn't believe that she...nor I...really was worthy of that unconditional love. Hmmm. Hmmm. Hmm.. I am wondering if you know what I'm talking about here. Do you think you have to be perfect? Do you wonder if you're not enough? Do you ever think you're in the way? These are probably my own projections but I also believe that there are millions of us walking around trying to "prove" that we are good enough---worthy enough--valuable enough. Here's what I have learned from my "retarded" son: You already are good enough. I already am good enough. Period. Thank you, Taylor, for reminding us of this.


  1. Thanks again for reminding me of that force I resists so~and it's my very name. That NOT never-ever~ elusive element~ GRACE!

  2. Thanks for doing this, Marianne. We need to talk about this stuff. and I really want to know what you think, and how you've worked this all out in your head. Do you really think Trig suffers from DS? or Taylor?
    If anyone has suffered from Nathan's DS, I think it's probably us - and maybe his teachers - not him! But, then I'm not sure I really understand what suffering is, either.
    A teacher was trying to tell one of our friends with DS about germs. He was 12 at the time. He told her not to worry - that when he was younger, he had caught DS, but, he said, "Look at me now! I'm just fine!"

  3. Actually, what I think is that what suffering Nathan has had with his DS has come not from the DS itself, but from us. And much of my own has been self-inflicted as well.
    I love what you have written so far, and can't wait for the next installment!

  4. Marianne,

    YOU inspire me! Thank you so much for all of your faithful support.

    I am so glad that now I will be able to try to do the same for you, as I am privileged to read YOUR story. I know it will be amazing, as you are.

    Welcome to the Land of will be a blessing for you and for all of us who read your honest words.

    Write on...

    Love, Kim


Thank you so much for your comments. I know it's scary to put yourself out there. I really appreciate your being on this journey with me. You really are brave..