The most annoying thing this week - when people say, however well-meaning, that Brody is a gift from God and has a special mission on this earth. And truly, the people who have said this (or some variation of it) are actually people I like (or love) and against whom I bear no ill will.
But come on.
I agree that Brody is a gift from the universe - because I think every child is a gift. But just because someone has congenital abnormalities doesn't mean they have a special mission on earth. Under their theory, then, that means I have no special mission on earth. What am I, chopped liver? I want a special mission! Come on, please? Or is my mission to mother the gift from God? It's hard to say. Is it the same kind of mission Tom Cruise is on? Is L. Ron Hubbard involved in the assigning of the missions?
And is it just children with congenital abnormalities? What about genetic abnormalities? Cancer? Is it just children? What happens when the children become adults? Are they no longer gifts? Can you return them for other gifts? Like a new car or something? What about a gift card? Can you re-gift? Does Satan give gifts too?
And how is that statement - that he's on a mission from God - supposed to help me, really? Help me feel less badly when he struggles to hold an object because he has no thumbs? Or gets frustrated because his throat isn't wide enough to swallow pizza? God knows better so I should just be grateful?
And look - I am grateful. Well, grateful is not truly the word. There is no word that describes my heart bursting when I see Brody, and hug him or get a kiss from him. When I think about the toxic environment that Brody was conceived in - my womb that acts like a pregnancy is a cancer and was and is very effective at killing pregnancies off like nothing more than a malignant cell - I am. . . astonished that he was able to grown at all, be born at all, and thrive. Granted, this is also due in no small part to numerous surgeries but. . . his vibrance is his own doing, he is a neon color in a black and white world. Just so we're clear. I have nothing but gratitude to the universe for Brody.
I just don't understand the point of the sentiment that he is a gift from God and has a special mission on earth.
I have never thought of saying that to someone who is struggling with an ill child. What the hell do I know about it anyway?
Presumptuous: impertinent, audacious; arrogant. Do not presume to think you know what my son is, or is not, or will be or won't be, even if you think you are being nice.
Maybe it's the labeling that bothers me. I hate the following labels: disabled, differently abled, defects. He is not disabled because he is not a bomb. He is not differently abled because so far, he does what all the other kids do, albeit in a different way and with more style. And he is certainly not defective.