You may not remember my daughter, Amadeus, or me, but I will never forget you.
But I forgive you.
You were the one who told me all the things Amadeus wouldn’t do, but you never told me the things she could.
You were the one that told me my daughter couldn’t nurse because of her low tone and because of her heart defect, but what you don’t know is that she exclusively breastfeed for four solid months.
I even had to bring her to work with me because she didn’t want anything else.
You were the one that diagnosed her with failure to thrive and expressed your concerns of her gaining weight, but what you don’t know is that she is now one of the bigger babies in her birth class and has just turned one-year-old. You were the one who decided to give her a nasogastric tube, causing her to have a horrible oral aversion to the point that she couldn’t even put her own hands in her mouth.
But what you don’t know is that we overcome that, and she eats everything now by mouth including being able to feed herself.
You were the one that made me feel I wasn’t good enough to handle a special needs baby being a mother of five.
But what you didn’t know is that Amadeus was put here for OUR special needs.
You were the one that delivered my daughter’s diagnosis. You were the one that patted me on the shoulder and told me you were, “Sorry.”
You were sorry that you diagnosed my daughter with Down syndrome, but what you didn’t tell me was that her diagnosis and our story would save lives.
You were the one that saw her as a diagnosis, and all we saw was our new precious daughter.
Not once did you congratulate me on my newborn.
But I forgive you.
I forgive you because you didn’t know her.
And you didn’t know me, and you didn’t know what we were capable of.
- My Sweet Baby Girl With Down Syndrome Fought For Life And Won
- “It Was A Terrifying Time” – One Father’s Love For His Down Syndrome Daughter