Am I chosen?

In the seeming randomness of conceiving a child with an extra chromosome, there have been some thoughts running through my head...obviously.... :) Some of these thoughts revolve around the idea that our baby was chosen, or chose, to be part of our family. To have me as a Mother and Charles as a Father and Christian as a brother. This kind of thought gives me a lot of strength somehow. More than a few friends have echoed this concept of "being chosen". And from the first day that I got the news, I had a sense of having been chosen.

This "sense" of being chosen, made certain conversations difficult for me. For example: I was at a party being thrown by a close friend, and I sat down to talk to someone who had seen the same doctor I am seeing, and wanted to ask her opinion about the doctor. I filled her in on what was going on. She gave me a lot of great insight about the doctor, filled me in on what all she had gone through in her difficult birth process, but also wanted to make sure that I knew I had a "choice". She said, "You know, Jen, you don't have to keep this baby. If you get pregnant again this won't happen again. You have a choice." Firstly, I would like to state for the record that I don't think there is anyone alive (old enough to understand) that doesn't know that abortion is an option. It's an option for some people and some circumstances. And it is very personal. I really don't think people need to be counselled one way or another unless they ask for it. So, I told her that I couldn't consider terminating the pregnancy because I already feel connected to this baby, and I already feel that he is my son.

I like thinking that I was chosen for good reasons- not because I'm being punished or disciplined- but because there is a piece of the puzzle that is yet to be discovered. This thought doesn't take away all of my fears, and it doesn't completely relieve me of the grieving for what I thought was going to be, but it does make me feel connected to Peanut. I am very grateful for that. If I found out tomorrow that this was all some lab error and that Peanut did not have DS, I actually wonder if I would be just a little disappointed? The DS is not WHO he is, it is a condition he has, but it has bonded me to him in a way I didn't expect, and can't fully describe.

My last thought comes from a beautiful poem/article written by Erma Bombeck (and brought to my attention by a sweet friend who used it as a strength for herself at one point.) Check it out at: http://www.down-syndrom.ch/Poem5.htm