Almost 30 years ago, you came into our lives frantic. The word I needed was frantic because we didn't know anything about your situation. I can say I was devastated. I felt like I was catapulted into a world I didn't want to be a part of.
The first memories of that period are painful. I remember a nurse who saw no one's permission to stand up while we were still in the hospital and said, "Oh how I love the Down Kids!"
Those who came to congratulate me looked upon me with compassion as they asked, "Well, you didn't do the analysis?"
They were dark times and it was not easy to get used to, but your older sister who was 2 years old then loved to worship. Your little brother would be born two years later and then after another 3 years, done with another sister. Family life was chaos. There were fantastic moments, but a lot of frustration and embarrassing moments where I didn't even know how to behave.
Your inability to learn and speak required 24-hour care 24. Need someone to watch and support you every moment.
Your brother and sisters have grown up today and moved into their homes. You and I split up, a decision that unfortunately came from the pressures of raising a child with disabilities. You're still living with me and enjoying the same day as Disney's fairy tales.
I often think what does it mean to you to make all these changes? I know that your silent acceptance makes more sense than we can understand. Your father and I have a good relationship and he plays a very important role in your life.
You talk a little, but your presence is priceless. You are their mentor. In you, they see small but essential things to be. Things we often miss in the chaos of everyday existence.
Your contribution to our lives is immeasurable, and that extra chromosome I despised in your early days is now honored with gratitude, as the best trait of that wonderful man to whom it belongs: YOU!
You are the glue that holds forever together, our unique family. I am privileged to be your mother.
* Note: The letter is adapted from The Guardian
