Search This Blog

Showing posts with label handicapped children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label handicapped children. Show all posts

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Book Review for Father's Day - We Chose Life: Why You Should Too by Anthony Horvath

It's a parent's worst nightmare -- hearing the words, "You have a very sick child." For a dad, it's particularly difficult because his job, besides providing materially for his family, is to protect his loved ones from harm. But when illness strikes a child, a dad often stands helpless to "fix it." Decisions about dealing with a criticial illness in an already born chid are difficult enough, but when that illness occurs in utero, parents are faced with another issue. The question is inevitable - "Will you keep it?" Since Roe v. Wade made abortion-on-demand legal in all 50 states at any time during pregnancy, vulnerable families faced with a sick little one are often given the bad news and immediately invited to consider abortion. How will they respond to the challnege? Anthony Horvath, in his book We Chose Life: Why You Should Too, shares his story, his faith, and the reasons he believes others should "choose life" as he and his wife did. Those who find themselves in similar circumstances with a seriously ill unborn child, would do well to put their panic on hold and read his story.

In December 2006, after two normal pregnancies that filled their home with three boys including a set of twins, the Horvath's were thrilled to learn during a routine ultrasound that they were expecting a little girl. Then the shoe dropped. The ultrasound showed something else. "The doctor came in. She wasn't smiling. Her expression was grim....She went right to the point. Our new baby girl had a lot of fluid in her skull, a condition called hydrocephalus. The doctor told us that it could be just hydrocephalus, or, worst case scenario, it could mean that she had Spina Bifida (SB)" [Spina Bifida is a general term for a group of a neural tube defects where a segment of the spinal column fails to close resulting in a buildup of fluid in the brain.]

A second ultrasound showed that the baby had the most severe form of the disease, myelomenigocele spina bifida. While there was no way to know the severity of the outcome, the baby could end up mentally and physically handicapped, catheterized, and permanently unable to walk - or not. "Here was the brutal reality," Horvath says, "there was no way of knowing the future."

Like other families faced with similar bad news, the Horvath's went into mourning. "I descended into the depths of self-pity," Horvath says, "I had thoughts, some of which I will not dare to share here....Together my wife and I entered the grieving process although no one had actually died. But that isn't really true. Someone did die." He goes on to describe all the normal events of childhood and laments, "We mourned the daughter we would not have."

At this point, the Horvaths had a choice -- not abortion -- because as serious Christians the decision for life had been made years before, even if not verbally articulated. Killing this little one created by God was not an option for them. But how would they face the reality? "We passed through our despair and entered forcefully into resolve....We were going to love this child....We stood up under the crushing reality and decided we were not going to be slaves to it."

Horvath shares the details of the pregancy and birth and the challenges of the early days. Then he shifts focus from his personal story to the argument for life. Without glossing over the challenging realities he points out that doctors can be mistaken. The diagnosis may be wrong and normal babies have been aborted. But even if the worst case scenario occurs, Horvath argues, "the children can still bring you immense joy." He invites readers also to ponder the bigger questions: the personhood of the unborn, the rights and privileges due to human beings no matter how small, and the slippery slope that leads from abortion to atrocities such as My Lai. He also addresses God's role in our decision-making and includes thought-provoking ideas for non-believers.

This little booklet, less than 75 pages, is a testimony to life, even in its most difficult and painful circumstances. Horvath says, "I want the reader to know that it is possible to get knocked on your butt with devastating news and then stand up and refuse to allow circumstances to dictate how you will feel about the world. The pain, suffering, and grief are real, but there is no reason why you have to be enslaved to them." Pain, Horvath reminds us, is inseparable from love. "Our only alternative," he says, "is to shut out the world and all of the people in it."

It's important to remember that this dad speaks from experience. The testimony of fathers is a powerful witness. Millions have viewed Matt Mooney's video tribute (below) to his little son Eliot who was diagnosed at seven months in utero with trisomy 18 and died ninety-nine days after birth. His story, like the Horvath's bears witness to the reality of joy in the midst of deep suffering. But I'll let Horvath speak for himself.
As the father of a child who is disabled I can affirm that the joy of relationship easily surpasses the pain, sorrow, and and hardship that has accompanied it. If you can push yourself through the valley of suffering and doubt you find yourself in today...You might also gain an insight into the heart of God. It is something to consider.
In our culture of death, fathers like Anthony Horvath and Matt Mooney exemplify the role of the Christian dad who stands up to defend the very life of his threatened little one. Other fathers facing similar circumstances can benefit from their stories. We Chose Life should be on the bookshelf of crisis pregnancy centers and OB/GYNs. When bad news comes, it offers a hope to move beyond the pain into the joy of new life, no matter how challenging. Thank God for the gift of life first, then thank Dad. He is the defender of the family, especially its most vulnerable members.

 

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

My Little Mariposa

I cried when I read the article below. So many challenges in life call forth our capacity to love. What a wise mother to know that the few days and months she is given to love little pre-born Clara are a grace and a blessing. How many parents are out there who have come to this realization and love their little ones as long as God entrusts them to their loving arms? How many in fear run from the opportunity and rush their sick babies to an early grave?

See 99 Balloons for a photo-story about Elliot (who had trisomy 18) by his proud daddy. Eliot and Clara are a testimony to God's perfection even when it comes in a package the world doesn't recognize. Pray for families challenged by painful situations at the beginning, the middle, and the end of life, which is ultimately all of us. Suffering is a gift from God that is, sadly, often rejected.

Give us wisdom, Lord, to see You in our sufferings and see our sufferings as a gift. As Eliot's dad said, "An undervelopoed lung, a heart with a hole in it, and DNA that placed faulty information into each and every cell in your body could not stop God from revealing himself through a child who never uttered a word. Not a pulpit, not a slick presentation, not a best-selling book, but a six pound boy with trisomy 18. God found great pleasure to take a lowly thing in the eyes of the world and show truth." Amen Clara too will be a light to a dark world. Thank you, Christy, for sharing your little mariposa with the world.


Tuesday, January 27 2009 @ 08:34 PM PST

Mariposa is our home, but it also means little butterfly and that is what she is. A sweet butterfly that is in her cocoon, will come forth in brilliant color, bestow a butterfly kiss and then fly away as the spring time air calls her forth.

My Little Mariposa
By Christy Wall ('89)

The technician’s hand is poised over my swollen belly like a child standing with a net, waiting to catch the butterfly. The baby flutters and turns in the warm water, I can almost see her pretty face laughing. There is a wild trail of goo on my skin marking the dance of my daughter as she cavorts within my womb. I am breathless with her beauty.

My daughter. My daughter, Clara. It is music to my ears to say her name. She pauses for a moment and the technician starts measuring with clicks and whirls of the machine. I am so enamored with her pretty little round head that I do not see the horrendous cysts taking up the space where her brain ought to be. Her arms wave in front of the camera like a sweet greeting and my heart swells with love, but I do not see that the other one lies floating in sea, for it has no bones. The misty floaty thing, the technician says to me, as I admire her curved spine, is her bowels. I can not even process this information, for she has taken off again in a flight of fancy, swirling and leaping in joy. And finally, the technician mentions the heart that is doing nothing because it is broken. I look at the technician with wide eyes "But my heart is all she needs." (Read the rest...)