Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Who wants this pre-born baby with Down syndrome?

The answer: nearly one thousand people from around the world. Here's the story.

When I read the email, my pulse quickened. As the mother of an eleven-year-old girl with Down syndrome, I oftenhelp parents cope with the prenatal diagnosis of Down syndrome. This email was urgent,
“There is a couple in another state who have contacted an adoption agency looking for a family to adopt their Down syndrome unborn baby. If a couple has not been found by today they plan to abort the baby. If you are interested in adopting this baby please contact Fr. VW IMMEDIATELY. We are asking all to pray for this baby and the wisdom that this couple realize the importance of human life and do not abort this beautiful gift from God.”
Read the entire story here.

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Sunday, July 21, 2013

Is Shutting off the Third Copy of the 21st Chromosome an Insult to My Daughter?

After what was billed as an amazing breakthrough, a harbinger of hope, researchers at University of Massachusetts managed to 'turn off'' the third copy of the 21st chromosome in a petri dish, many parents who love their children with Down syndrome are feeling that this line of research is ultimately a rejection of the children they love so deeply. Its easy to understand that point of view, after all, the world harshly rejects the great majority of unborn babies with Down syndrome, aborting them at a rate of 75-92%, with new tests like MaterniT21 threatening to raise that already high rate. They have learned to love their special children as they are, delays, medical needs and all, and feel strongly that the type of research which 'shuts off' a chromosome will somehow alter their lovable personalities. I love these people and deeply admire their devotion to their beautiful children, its a fundamental value which we share, yet I see things differently.

Once in the middle of a live TV interview, Canadian show host (and ardent pro-lifer) Michael Coren asked me what he described as a difficult question, "Would you, if you could, take your daughter's Down syndrome away?". I tried not to stare into the remote camera like a deer in the headlights, but he had caught me flat footed. I fumbled for an answer, not wanting to offend those folks I just described,  answering that I knew that Down syndrome was part of who she was, but that if research advances were safe, I could see myself using them to help her be able to speak, that being able to know her thoughts would be a great blessing. I sought a clearer answer, and perhaps there is none, but I will express my thoughts on this controversial topic anyway. Let's see if it gets me into trouble.

The third copy of the twenty-first chromosome caused my daughter's brain to become muddled in her fifth year of life. She was putting words into little short phrases and happily engaging those around her. We had every reason to believe that her IQ of 69 indicated that she would benefit from inclusive education and would progress, perhaps more slowly than her typical peers, but surely would be able to read, speak and make friends in order to live a happy, fulfilled life. We moved from Long Island to Connecticut so that she could benefit from the inclusive classrooms there. Life was full of promise.

By the second grade, it became clear that this dream was not becoming reality. Christina spoke less and less, struggled to maintain interest in her surroundings, and reading was progressing much more slowly than we anticipated. At her pediatrician's insistence in third grade, I began to seek evaluations from well known speech and education professionals to understand why my daughter was losing language. We found little to encourage us that she would change, and the school put her into a resource room for students with autism, although she has never been diagnosed with autism. The University of Connecticut Speech and Hearing Clinic evaluated her and worked with her for four months with some success, saying she had a language processing disorder. Her neurons in the speech center of her brain do not connect. She has lost many connections which used to exist, and the vocabulary of a hundred words she had has nearly disappeared. What is causing this? The extra copy of the 21st chromosome which is over expressed, like a broken record, sending out signals which confuse my daughter's speech center, isolating and confusing her and cause her to turn inward, watching DVDs for hours and playing with her stuffed animal, her only friend.
Her IQ is now 20.
Down syndrome did this to her

How does her future look right now? Bleak, unless there is a medical breakthrough. Only her family or those who can understand Touch Chat on the Ipad can communicate with her. Children reject her odd mannerisms as she tries to communicate with them. She often resorts to throwing things to gain attention, and there has been talk of medicating her to control these behaviors. I am heartsick.

Why shouldn't I be thrilled to know that in ten years there may be a medication or gene therapy which can repair this terrible damage to Christina's brain?
 I want her back, the happy smiling little girl who sang part of "Old MacDonald Had a Farm" with her daddy in a home video when she was five.That video makes me cry now. I miss the little girl who wanted to be best friends with everyone she met, whose future was promising.
My daughter is trapped by Down syndrome's mistaken messaging in her brain. Do I love her as she is, even if she never speaks again? Of course I do! Do I want her to speak with all my heart so that she can find more happiness in the world, in friendships, reading, and fulfilling work?
Of course I do.

So, excuse me if my heart skips a beat when I hear about medical breakthroughs which might bring back my daughter, my true daughter to me. She is not the sum total of her chromosomes, Christina is far more than that, but she is deeply affected as we all are by her genetics. They do not affect her soul, but who else but those of us who love her will see the beauty in that soul if she can never speak again?

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Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Charlotte Saved the Party for Me

This is a true story told from the point of view of my daughter Christina when she was eight. She is 11 now.
It was a creepy place, that Haunted Mini Golf. The walls were black, fluorescent ghosts floated everywhere, scary music was playing really loud, and stinky smoke was coming up from the floor. Yuck!

I stopped at the front door, thinking maybe I didn’t want to go into that noisy place. Kids were screaming in there! I hate dark, noisy places like movie theatres. I thought, “How would a birthday party in there be fun anyway”? I tried to back out, but my mom held my hand tightly and I knew that if she was going in, I had no choice. We walked in, and, as we stood in the entry, our eyes got used to the dark, but Mom and I didn’t recognize anyone, so all I wanted was to get out of there, and go home. I started pulling on Mom’s hand as I walked towards the door. I started to cry.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I saw Charlotte. She left her party in a quiet room when she saw me looking scared. “Its okay” she told me, taking my hands with a big smile on her face, “all our friends from class are here, come and see.” Charlotte led me into the party room, and soon I saw all our friends from Mrs. Driscoll’s second grade class. They were playing a cool game of glow-in-the-dark mini golf, and gave me a hot pink golf club which matched my pants. I hit the ball into the little house after a few tries, and I wasn’t afraid any more. Then we got some glow-in-dark bracelets and danced to music we like at school, the bracelets made circles in the dark. Next Charlotte’s mom served pizza and soda. Next we ate some chocolate cupcakes with green crunchy sprinkles. It was fun to be with my friends even in that weird place, and I had a great time with Charlotte, who played with me the most of anyone. I was really happy she saw me and helped me come inside her party. Next time she had a party, I wanted to go, because she is really nice. She doesn’t care if I get scared sometimes or that I’m shy and have trouble making friends.

I am eight years old and have brown hair and brown eyes. I have two older sisters and we have three cats, one dog, and six chickens at our house. I like to wear my pink-polka-dot crocs every day to school, because they are comfortable and easy to put on. I am supposed to wear glasses, but I don’t like them very much. My favorite colors are hot pink and purple.

Most people notice how I look different, and how I can’t talk like everyone else. Sometimes it’s hard to remember the words I want to say, so I use my IPad and sometimes I talk with my hands. Not too many kids understand me, and it makes me embarrassed when they stare at me. Once, in the library, two kids asked my Mom what country I come from, because I talk differently, so she told them don’t come from another country, I just have Down syndrome. Sometimes kids at school don’t know what to say to me because I don’t speak very well, so they go and play with someone else. Ouch, that hurts my feelings! I just want to be part of the group when everybody’s playing a game. Why can’t I just play with everyone else?

That’s why I like Charlotte. She doesn’t care if I forget my words, or I look different. She doesn’t laugh at me when I can’t run like the other kids or when I trip and fall. At recess, I can’t go on the playscape because my neck might get hurt. It makes me sad because I used to play follow-the-leader with all the kids together. Charlotte comes and plays catch or hula hoops with me. Sometimes she brings a friend with her and we all play hopscotch. Those are the best days. I like Charlotte very much. I wish more kids were like her. When she smiles, my heart is happy and I smile too. Charlotte saved the party for me, and she is my best friend. I wish there were more kids like Charlotte; the world would be a happy place.
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