...people telling stories of family members who have children, either small or adults who are disabled in some way, I think of what a heartache that must be for the mom. To have a pregnancy that is a time for so much optimism and reason to believe the new person coming into the world will bring such joy. Only to find that surviving the pain of childbirth is only the beginning of trails and travails.
Discovering she has birthed a child who will be in constant need of care throughout her life, and likely to live even longer than she, still needing assistance. Never able to be fully independent, with no hope for living a life of being an independent adult, filled with educational opportunities, work, weddings, families, holiday gatherings, many daily mundane events.
I have a friend who was talking about her daughter, and the grandson: one of those people who will always be completely dependent on the kindness and mercy of caregivers. Born with a boatload of health issues, and in need of life-long assistance. The child is now in his early teens, wheelchair bound, and getting meals via a feeding tube. We who can see, motivate ourselves upon the slightest whim or fancy, open the fridge with our opposable thumbs and gaze, then graze are blessed. With so much: the ability to see, walk into the kitchen, open a door that stores food, drinks and ice cream within. Use a fork or spoon and enjoy each bite.
Then, after that heart-pain mentioned in the first paragraph, I begin to think of so many reasons for thankfulness: healthy adult children, who are so blessed and such a blessing. Fully functioning, completely capable, independent people who make their own decisions and live healthy, happy lives.
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