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terça-feira, 17 de abril de 2012

Testemunho de uma mãe com uma filha portadora de trissomia 21


Este testemunho de vida é uma delícia.
Espero ter tempo (ou que alguma alma caridosa se ofereça) para o traduzir de forma a que possa ser lido numa das próximas semanas, na nossa rubrica radiofónica diária na Rádio Costa D'Oiro.
Aqui fica:

Six-and-a-half is the magic number. It has been six-and-a half months since Kate was born and I can’t believe it. That’s what all moms say, isn’t it? The saying is as ubiquitous as “time flies” or the less common adage, “Better hold ‘em while they still won’t give you back strain.”

That’s six-and-a half months since the day that forever changed our lives. The day we found out that our sweet Kate, born short of five pounds, had one tiny extra chromosome in her newborn body.
Six-and-a half months since I ate popsicles and sang songs through contractions, wondering who the little human that lived inside me would turn out to be.
Six-and-a half months since we finally decided on her name in the delivery room—a decision that seemed so hard to make (almost providentially) because the baby girl we imagined wasn’t the baby girl we received; she was even better.
Six-and-a half months since a little chromosome made a huge impact when the doctor told us the news, that our baby Kate has Down syndrome. And six-and-a half months since I called my friends and family with the solemn news.

At the time, it was devastating. Incomprehensible. Surreal. But now, half a year later, with her fat little cheeks and her gummy little grin, that extra chromosome seems to only make her extra cute. Luckily, many other moms like me share the same sentiment about their little ones, especially when they go through the characteristically atypical situations that come with parenting a child with special needs.

One story in particular gave me pause. A mom, speaking of her teenage foster daughter who has Down syndrome, shared a story about how her daughter just loved hugs. I mean, loved hugs.

Every chance she got, the daughter pounced her mom, and other family members, like a lion in the jungle, then clung on tight to give them a boa constrictor-worthy hug.

She hid behind furniture and walls, cast her eyes on her object of affection and then darted toward them like a speeding love bullet.

This passionate hug-fest occurred without warning ... and often at the most cumbersome times. The recipient was often holding things, completely unprepared for the über-enthusiastic embrace.

Finally, after having the breath knocked out of her one too many times, the mom said, “Honey, I love your hugs, but you can’t jump on me, you’re too big!”

“I’m big?” questioned the daughter with sincere puzzlement. It hadn’t ever occurred to her that she was big.

And with that simple validation, the hugs continued in a bit more gentle fashion.

The story warmed my heart as I looked at my little baby who would someday be big enough to squash me with hugs. I immediately thought: how beautiful to not know the size of your body, but only the size of your love.

In a society where we are so quick to focus on “special needs” as lacking something, I think it’s quite the opposite. It’s the something special that will give Kate a unique outlook, a profound capacity for love, and the ability to affect every one around her in a “big” way. All it took for me to learn that valuable piece of wisdom was six-and-a-half months.
Lauren Warner. Daqui

1 comentário:

Sara disse...

Um amigo meu também tem uma filha portadora trissomia 21 e que ela me disse é que ele gosta de estar com ela e sustentá-lo em tudo o que você precisa. Ele disse que encontrou muitos livros sobre a Internet que podem ser enviados com delivery e ajudou muito a passar os primeiros anos de sua filha