How
many conversations do you have a day? Can you remember each one? If you’re like
me, probably not. However, there are some conversations that stick in your
member. Several years ago, Kara and I went to lunch with some friends from
church. During the conversation, she told us that her family had fled from the Khmer Rouge and
ended up in the States as refugees. She had lost a younger sibling to
starvation as they fled from Pol Pot’s forces. As a parent, I could not
imagine the amount of grief these parents must have carried, and I was amazed
that bitterness was not evident in the conversation. (Such is the power of
Christian belief.) I do not know the specifics, but I picture a mother who
was too nutrient deprived to provide milk. These parents were risking their
lives and fleeing their homeland in order to protect their children and give
them a future. I can only imagine the atrocities, the fear, and the unknown
challenges these parents faced while trying to provide a chance at life for
their children.
 |
| I wonder if he promised them free college... |
Many
of you follow my wife's blog over at Chasing Genuine and
know that our newest daughter, Alisa, has Trisomy 21, commonly known as Down
Syndrome. You may have even read about our reaction to the news here. When we were initially informed that Alisa screened
positive for Down Syndrome in May of 2016, it was quite a shock. Personally,
only having 3 or 4 emotions at most, I didn't grieve too much at the news.
Kara, however, processed every emotion possible concerning this news. (Don't
read this as a knock on my wife, or women in general. Men and women are
wired differently, and science confirms it. Most men are like a 4-speed manual transmission, while
women are more like a 21-speed bicycle when it comes to emotions.)
Needless to say, I'm not a scientist or psychologist, so I'm
not here to discuss the EQ of each sex. However, I am here to discuss the different
reactions we experienced when telling others about Alisa and her expected
arrival. Reactions ranged from attempts to comfort, feeling sorry for us, or
excitement with us at this new adventure, to indifference. Many people
turned the conversation to a reflective one, making comments such as, "I
couldn't imagine the grief I'd bear knowing my child might have Down
Syndrome" or "There's always hope." All of which I
understand; everyone comes to a moment from different experiences and will have
different perspectives. Some made the conversation about them with, "I
can't imagine staying in the hospital that long. I would go
crazy!" When something we deem horrific occurs to someone we know, we
imagine ourselves in their place. Each individual attempted to bridge the gap
after hearing the news using the hardest medium of communication possible: the
English language.
|
I'll never forget one particular conversation as I informed
family members and friends of Alisa's status and Kara's hospital stay. It was
right after Kara was hospitalized, and I was trying to figure out how to work,
take care of Kate, arrange help, basically keep my life together. I was
cruising down I-20 into Dallas one afternoon with Kate in the backseat, fresh
from PDO with a mini-blue slush in hand (Dear Lord, thank you for Kevin Durant
and Sonic both), rainbow headphones on and watching a cartoon on our Kindle. Once
I told them the news, the phone call went something like this: "Kara will
be in how long?!?!?" "Until Alisa is born, probably 6 to 9
weeks." "You're going to drive to Dallas every day?!" "As
often as I possibly can. My daughter needs to see her Mom, and my wife
needs to see her daughter." (Not to mention the fact that I needed to see
my wife!) "I wouldn't do it!" "Well, as a husband, I'm going to
do whatever it takes to keep my family together." "Besides the
trouble, I can't imagine how much that's going to cost!" "How are you
going to pay for it?" "I don't know, but I'll figure it out."
"If it were me, I would just-" and they stopped short. They didn't
need to finish that sentence. We both knew the unsaid words that filled the
silence. "....abort the baby!"
There it was. The mindset of the modern American, who
probably couldn't say it in so many words, but have been trained to think that
our individual wants come before the needs of other distractions. Surprisingly,
I didn't flood with anger and hang up the phone, but said, "What is a life
worth? How can we not do everything possible to bring Alisa into this world
alive?" I'm not trying to make myself out to be some kind of
martyr. Even as I said it, and even as I write this, I know there are those
who have lost children in ways that I could not imagine, like my Cambodian
friend.
|
It probably cost about $80K just to take this selfie.
I also realize that in other parts of the world, Kara and I
would not have had a choice about our daughter's health care. We would be
looking at a stillbirth (or worse) because we couldn't pay for medical care up
front. Throughout the history of mankind, cultures have recognized the
power of life, and were willing to sacrifice children in hopes of appeasing
some angry, false God. Survival was the issue at hand. Today, as in mine and
Kara’s case, the issue is rights. The right to a stress-free
life; a career unhindered by sick days, children’s programs,
and the numerous other activities that take up time we could be focusing
on our career; taking that trip we’ve dreamed about instead of using the
saved money to pay hospital bills or purchase necessities for a baby. But is that right?
Rights deal with justice, so that question must be answered.
What is justice? An act of setting things right? Reparation for wrongs? Justice
requires a victim, so when we are willing to sacrifice a child who didn’t
choose to be conceived, who is unjust? Who is the victim? Oh, the killing of children is nothing new, as we know from our history books; whether Greek myths,
Aztec history, or Biblical texts. People are only seen as valuable for what
they can do or contribute. Granted, a baby can’t write, work, or do anything
for that matter. I know it’s been said somewhere else, but there is no effort
so hard nor so rewarding as that of
raising a child. (I’m only
four and half years into it, and I’m exhausted!)
 |
| Even my dog is tired! |
So why did Kara and I choose to take on the stress and worry
of extended hospital stays, special tests, NICU visits, wear and tear on the
car and family, for a baby who might not make it to term? Because someone
answered the question "What is a life worth?" several millennia ago.
As far as I know, Christianity is the only faith that provides value to the
valueless, whether an unborn baby or an outcast. Until Jesus died on
the cross,
the life of a lesser being was always used to pay for the life of a greater
being. But Jesus, demonstrating God’s economy, showed that only a greater life
could pay for another life. As a matter of fact, in God’s economy, the stronger
life has a duty to protect the weaker life. That’s justice.
 |
| ....as long as the tall kid's box wasn't taken without his consent, comrades. |
So, just what is a life worth? Everything. Just ask Jesus.
The rest of us are still learning.
