Sunday, April 5, 2009


Last night I was feeling down after discovering the whole story of Hasbeeb Chishty and Denton State School (posted here). I just felt discouraged, like there is so much to fight against. So to escape these sad, frustrating thoughts, I was holding Quinn. I was looking at her beautiful skin, beautiful face, loving her, when I started thinking about how I saved her. I don't mean to sound narcissistic - please don't take it that way, what I am meaning is that with a prenatal diagnosis I could have terminated and didn't. So it was because of my decision, my choice, that she is here. This comes in my mind now and again, and may be the usual experience of those who had a prenatal diagnosis. I never contemplated termination at any time prenatally - I just knew that my girl had to be a part of my life. Thinking about the above made me realize that I have already done something to help - I have this little girl who exists and will bring awareness and advocacy to those who meet her. I didn't feel so hopeless.

Just as I was thinking about the above, Quinn looks up at me. It is hard to describe what it is like when she looks at you in the eyes. Both of your eyes meet, and it is a very intense feeling. I feel like she is looking into my soul. She then grabs my face with both hands and kisses me on the lips. She does this twice. In that moment, I felt peace, love, and the presence of something bigger than Quinn and I. I thought about how some people call individuals with Down syndrome angels. They believe they have a higher connection with God. I'm not sure if I necessarily believe that. But I do believe that what happened last night was for a purpose. It was to let me know that I did the right thing - I am doing the right thing. I was touched. I had tears in my eyes and it was a beautiful feeling.



  1. Beautiful post. I remember knowing, Knowing that I was in for an entire life change with our prenatal diagnosis (bigger than just me and Soph learning each other). We never wavered about keeping Soph, but I knew having her would change me in ways I was not prepared for. I remember sitting on a bench with a friend, with the prenatal diagnosis quite fresh, grief quite raw, and my belly large. I was crying and said I didn't want to accept the role of advocate for people with special needs. It was too big. My friend looked at me and said that I didn't have to be an advocate, just a mom. I looked back at her and said, no, that is not to be. How could I love my daughter (in the way I knew I would) and not become a person who would fight tooth and nail for her and others, just as you are for Quinny. We must be born into this and although it can be extremely hard, we do it anyway because we are compelled to and because we are deeply in love with our girls and the countless others we are meeting on this journey. It may change us, but it is for the better and we are the ones who are blessed.
    I hear you loud and clear.

  2. I have a tear in my eye, too. What a beautiful moment for the two of you to share.