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Showing posts from February, 2013

Así que eras tú

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Caleb Arturo Morley, 25 de marzo del 2010 Así que eras tú quien en mí crecía Tú, pequeño de ojos redondos y hermosos Tú, pequeño de manitas raras que se asen de la vida y de mi blusa. Así que eras tú quien en mí dormía y despertaba como ahora, a tiempo y fuera de tiempo, cuando mamá está cansada. Así que eras tú quien daba maromas  y pateaba y a veces saltaba por el hipo y me hacía sonreír. Sí, eras tú. ¡Vaya sorpresa! No eres como te esperaba. Pero no importa. Lo que importa es que estás conmigo y que desde que estabas en mi vientre ya te amaba. Y te amo y te quiero, niño sorpresa. Te quiero a mi lado para siempre. Creciendo, durmiendo, Saltando... de ser posible. Y si no, aun así te querré y saltaré por ti. Haré por ti lo que tú no puedas Y seguiré atesorando tu vida.

The reason for the name of this blog

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I wrote a draft of this piece for an inspirational writing class. I don't think it is very inspirational. In fact, it's an "angry" piece, but it tells the story of my heart. I was given several sheets with information about trisomy 13. They listed the physical abnormalities, common health problems, life expectancy, and the mental retardation. “They are able to recognize other family members,” one paper said. I felt my heart sink. “Are you telling me that this is the depth of their cognitive skills? Big deal!” I did not want to learn more. It was too painful, yet I kept looking for information, stories, pictures. I found one of a boy in his teens. “Our Graduate,” read the caption underneath. “What a joke! This boy must have the cognitive skills of a two year-old.” I read about a woman who feared her daughter would be so malformed that she did not want her husband to be present in the delivery room for her birth. I knew exactly how she felt. I too was ashamed of

Senses

My son Caleb has cortical blindness. His brain does not process well the information captured by his eyes. How I wish he could see! He is missing so much! Yet I confess I want him to see for self-centered reasons. I want him to see me , to see his brother, to see his dad. I am sure he knows he is loved. He can feel it in our gentle touch and the rough play of his brother. He can feel it through the thousand kisses that have left an imprint on his forehead and his cheeks. Still I wish that he could see our love for him. I wish he could see our smiles and lit-up eyes. I wish he had the sense of sight. Caleb does not eat by mouth. I wonder what months of feeding via the unnatural route of a gastrostomy tube have done to his sense of taste. He does not seem to have developed oral aversions, yet he does not either seem pleasantly surprised by the tangy sweetness of apple sauce. “What do you think, Caleb? One thumb up, one thumb down? ¿Sabe más o menos?” I wonder if Caleb ca

I Must Do the Work of Him Who Sent Me

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John 9:1-4 1 As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. 2 His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"   3 "Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life. 4 As long as it is day, we must do the work of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. 5 While I am in the world, I am the light of the world." 20 weeks into my pregnancy with our second son, Caleb Arturo, my husband and I learned that something might be wrong with our little boy. As frightening and disappointing as this news was, I did not want having a healthy child to be the focus of my prayers. In my work as a medical interpreter in a pediatric hospital, I am often surrounded by extremely ill children and their struggling families. How could I request not to be one of them? As the years go by, I am more convinced that a proper reply to

Name

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I looked at the ultrasound screen in the radiology room. It read Morley ^Caleb^ Arturo. Seeing his name on the screen took me back to the time when I was searching for a name for my son. I knew I wanted "Arturo" to be part of his name. "Arturo" is my brother's name. Arturo is tall and handsome, bright and intense. I've always said he's the smartest of all five of us. So when I learned my son may be born with a chromosomal abnormality that would render him less than "perfect," I second guessed my name choice. I looked for biblical names, names that would remind me that God was with us. Such a name would be appropriate, even necessary to help us face and embrace whatever was coming our way. But "Arturo"? Could I name a child who would most likely be mentally retarded and have abnormal features "Arturo"? It didn't seem to be a good match. I felt ashamed. In the end, we chose to name our future baby boy "Caleb Art

Por qué escribo

"Escribo porque necesito recordar y superar. Es a partir de la memoria y un sentimiento de pérdida que la pasión de crear surge." Isabel Allende.  Tomado de su página de internet. Reflexiones/Por qué escribo. Cuando leí estas palabras de Isabel Allende, me identifiqué de inmediato con ellas. Yo siento lo mismo. La historia de dolor y belleza de mi hijo Caleb me mueve a escribir. Lo que aprendo a través de esta experiencia impacta cada aspecto de mi vida y, por consiguiente, a cada persona que cruza mi camino. Espero me convierta en una mejor persona, que sepa amar a todos por igual. Perla