Unacceptable

I'm not someone regularly referred to as an 'older' parent and neither is the Viking, but we did manage to spend ten whole years of married life before we ever seriously considered becoming biological parents. There were times that I thought that motherhood wasn't in the cards for me and other times of rather serious contemplation of adoption, eventually foiled by our respective nationalities combined with our nomadic lifestyle, or the child's existing familial ties. We had discussed parenthood, of course, but much in the same way we had discussed any potential countries we might spend a few years in. A possibility, something to ponder, a new avenue, but not a must nor an inevitability.

Much along the lines of "But how will becoming parents affect us?"

Oh how off track can one be? Affect us? How about what is it going to be like for the progeny?  

However, after ten years, somewhat on a whim after some lifestyle alterations, we decided to give it a go. To see whether a pregnancy would take. And promptly conceived on the first try. Because - of course. Quite an unexpected outcome. Took us 16 store-bought pregnancy tests and one blood draw at the doctor's to believe the news, and quite a bit of blind faith in nature doing its thing to keep believing it. Finally, largely due to this nature's attempts at trying our faith in the pregnancy we quickly found out that our daughter would have Trisomy 21.

Blip. 

So I've never not accepted the diagnosis. We've never not accepted the diagnosis. It was never really a surprise or a shock. There was no grief or mourning. My being pregnant on the first try, on the other hand, was earth shattering. Exhilarating yet scary. Life- and direction-altering. After the beginning of the pregnancy, us learning that it might be possible that a live little being would be at the end of this thing, well, that was almost incomprehensible.

HYPERDRIVE. I REPEAT:  PREPARE FOR HYPERDRIVE. 

Down syndrome was a blip on the radar that altered the potential directions in the minutest of ways, while the overall direction stayed the same - to boldly go where much more is expected from you (mostly by yourself) than you ever realized - bravely into parenthood. A new yet permanent territory completely void of exits. 

And I wondered. What would it take to be a good parent, a good provider, a good mother. What would I need to know and do to make it in this new place. How could I be the kind of parent my daughter could accept. The kind of parent she could look at when she's all grown up and think "My mother may be loud and obnoxious and not nearly as funny as she seems to think, but man, I lucked out. She loved me and laughed with me, took care of me, and brought me up to be someone I can be proud of."

That's what I still reflect on. Constantly. How I can be the best mom for my kid. How I can make it so that she can grow to be the kind of person she wants to be. How I can make it so that she can make her own choices, make them well, and make them so that they make her happy and her life good. How I can help her grow into her own person. 

I anguish, and I know I don't know, but I accept that, and can only try to see things from her point of view. 

I can't see yet how she feels about Down syndrome, how she feels about having it, and I can't even begin to guess how she'll feel about it or having it in the future. No one can. What I can see clearly, however, are the systemic injustices that currently await her because of her Down syndrome. I can see the oppression, the Othering, the segregation, the mystification, dehumanization, and the reductionism in perpetuating stereotypes, the lack of supports and access, the prejudice, the discrimination, and the hatred she'll face because of her Down syndrome.

I can see the ways in which the world finds her unacceptable because of her genetic condition. 

But I don't have to take it. I don't have to accept it. I can fight it. Because if I don't I won't be the kind of mother she deserves. 

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Participating in the ACCEPTANCE blog hop on Down wit Dat.