Down Syndrome WON'T ruin your life!

My sweet husband sent me this link today.  Enjoy the bonus cute baby pics, and check out the discussion in the comments, too!

31 for 21: Water and Fire

I suddenly realized that these two metaphors represent one of the main questions in the adoption journey: What is the vision for the adoption?

Some people are "Fire" adopters.  They learn about a country, or an individual institution, or an individual child in dire need, and are driven to rescue the neediest of them.  As the Christians say, "the least of these".  These children may have severe special needs, extreme malnutrition and neglect, and/or be older.  They may take this on because they have medical training that has prepared them for the extra care required.  They may have other children with similar special needs.  Or they may be filled with a sense of commitment and faith that bolsters them to do whatever it takes.  I certainly find these stories inspiring, and wonder if my family and my community could handle one of these.  I wonder how many people would follow that example, rather than write it off as "you're crazy" or even just "wow, I could never do that".

Then there are the "Water" adopters.  They, too, learn about the neglect suffered by children with special needs in developing countries, and are moved to take action.  But they reason, "Let's rescue a child who is still young enough and healthy enough that his/her needs will be more manageable.  Let's rescue a child before they become needy enough to require a "Fire" adopter to be saved."   The babies and toddlers I posted about recently fall into that category, as do most of the children in the 3-5 year old category and many of the 6- to 9-year-olds.  These stories are also inspiring, but in a much more low-key way.  Mostly, they are stories about adorable children being loved by their families and blossoming instead of falling further and further behind in an orphanage.  I can definitely see people in my community being open to this possibility if they saw an example of it.  These stories have a much more normal feel to them.

Which brings us to the final metaphor.

You are walking with your friends and family along the road.  On one side of the road is a lake, filled with drowning children.  On the other side, is a burning schoolhouse.  What do you do? Do you stand there paralyzed because you can't save everyone?  If not, do you run into the fire, swim into the lake, or run down the road ahead as fast as you can so you don't have to hear the cries...?


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Religion Connection, for those who want it:

1. We just passed Yom Kippur, when we not only repent of our sins, but we contemplate our own mortality.  We ask,

"who will live and who will die; 
who will die at his predestined time and who before his time; 
who by water and who by fire...."

 2. Proverbs 24:11-12:

If you refrain from rescuing those taken to death and those on the verge of being slain will you say, "Behold, we did not know this"? Is it not so that He Who counts hearts understands, and He Who guards your soul knows, and He will requite a man according to his deed?

What's in it for me?

I have been talking a lot about the moral basis for special-needs adoption and how it may be grounded in a non-religious ethical context.  However, one of the major hurdles for both religious and secular potential adopters is the notion that this is fundamentally an "extreme", "dramatic", "altruistic" project.  A religious context can create a framework where people are motivated to take on such things for a higher purpose.  Secular contexts can do so, as well, though generally to a lesser extent.  However, both religious and secular people are motivated, more than anything else, by the selfish motive -- "What's in it for me?"

When I first found out about the conditions of special-needs orphans in developing countries, and read the stories of families which adopted them, I had many of these same reactions.  "Wow," I thought.  "These people are really amazing and self-sacrificing!"  Then I kept reading, however, and a new pattern emerged.  Very consistently, the parents reported great joy in the miraculous progress their adopted children were having, and in the beauty that the children were, in spite of their disabilities.

These, however, were parents.  They were highly invested in this enterprise, so surely they were biased.  The clincher came when I started reading reports by siblings of the adoptees.  After all, siblings are not the ones who made these decisions, but they live with the outcome.  What do they have to say about it all?


This 12-year-old girl has 2 little brothers.

Last year, her parents adopted 2 more little boys, both with Down syndrome.  Right now they are adopting a third boy with Down syndrome from the same orphanage! Read her blog to see how she feels about adoption.

Here is another 12-year-old sister of an adoptee with Down syndrome,

 answering readers' questions on her mother's blog.


Here are some more comments from the same family, including the 2 oldest brothers, aged 16 and 18.

And another family with 3 typical biological children, and 4 adopted children with special needs, 2 with Down syndrome.

Well, maybe these are just self-selecting anecdotes, right?  The people with negative experiences wouldn't post about it, right?  I actually googled on-line quite extensively looking for stories of siblings who wished their parents never had/adopted their sibling with special needs.  I couldn't find any!  Some stories of occasional frustration or sibling rivalry -- like any other siblings.  Many stories of parents worrying about the siblings' reactions!  But nothing that stood out as actual regret because of the sibling's special needs.

Here is a cool blogger with 2 biological children with special needs, a girl with cerebral palsy and a boy with Down syndrome.  She cites this study done by physicians at Children's Hospital Boston on the impact of children with Down syndrome on their typical siblings.


How anyone can read these stories -- and many, many others like them -- and not think "I want this for MY family, too!" is beyond me, no matter what your religious beliefs.

Olympic standard?

So I was talking with my husband tonight, and he was sharing a conversation he had earlier with a friend.  He realized that part of his trepidation is that in all the stories I have been sharing with him about adoptive families, these people seem like "saints".   He said, "It's like you ask me to run a 4-minute mile and you tell me that all these Olympic athletes do it, so I can too, and it feels like an unrealistic standard."

So we talked, about what it was like to have 5 kids.  After all, most people who know us think that is way over the top.  And we agreed that while each kid adds some amount of stress, we had time to adjust to a new normal at each step.

"But isn't an adopted child with special needs a whole level beyond that?"

Depends what your expectation is.  I think that if you expect it to be analogous to a newborn, then those expectations will be met or exceeded.  A newborn arrives with unknown medical needs. A newborn requires frequent check-ups.  A newborn does not sleep through the night, eat solid foods, or interact in an intelligible fashion.  A newborn will not be mobile for 6-8 months, will not walk or talk for 12-18 months, and will not be potty trained for 2-3 years.  Your average adopted child with special needs will beat at least some of those milestones.  With this situation, as with an ordinary newborn, a new normal will be found.

Ethics of the Fathers Day 15

In Chapter 3, we read,

One whose deeds exceed his wisdom, his wisdom endures. But one whose wisdom exceeds his deeds, his wisdom does not endure.

Is it "wise" to take on a special needs adoption? NO!  It is risky on so many levels.  But if we let the deed exceed our wisdom, our wisdom will in fact endure.

We are looking into starting a homestudy....

What would you do if you weren't afraid?

This was originally in the book "Who moved my cheese?"  Ever since we met, my sweet husband introduced me to the concept of "What would you do if you weren't afraid?" As a tool for figuring out if those fears are legitimate showstoppers or merely cold feet.

Susanna Musser has written a timely post (beautiful as always) on this subject.


See this, too.

Fear, redux

We were sitting on a bench at a playground this morning, while our 3.5 year old and 2 year old boys were running around. The older one was trying to climb down a ladder, but was facing out rather than turning over on his tummy. Daniel said, "It would be easier to do if he turned over, but it's scary. Dangling your feet and not knowing if the next rung will be there. Almost like a leap of faith."

Yes, it is.

Fear

My darling husband, like so many others in this position, is scared. How could he not be? Just a few months ago I asked him to take on a project that nobody we personally know has ever done. A life commitment with far-reaching consequences beyond anything we have done before.

It is as if I asked him to save a life by walking a tightrope across an abyss. Yes, the life needs saving, but you want me to do WHAT?! I can't do THAT!!!

No, that is not what I am asking.  I am asking him to sign up with me for a 6-12 month ropes course, at the end of which we can cross that tightrope together. Like so many other graduates of that same ropes course have done successfully.

Hold my hand and we're halfway there.
Take my hand and I'll take you there.