I wrote this morning about Kathleen Norris’ The Quotidian Mysteries. Part of Norris’ point is that creative thoughts often arise in the mundane details of life. While folding laundry, an idea pops into her head for a poem, or she remembers that she wanted to write a friend a note, or she recall the words of a Psalm and considers them anew. These things happen for me. I enjoy solitude. On a Myers Briggs test, I split right down the extrovert/introvert line. I get energy from people, but I also draw energy from time all by myself.
But I’ve had too much time alone this year. We moved to Connecticut, and so we left behind 7 years of relationships at work, school, and church. The weather plus pregnancy pushed us inside for much of the winter. And now, with Marilee needing me more or less around the clock, I still feel somewhat homebound (although spring makes it so much better, doesn’t it?).
I’ve been thinking lately that one of the blessings of quotidian life–every day life, life in laundry and taking out the trash and cooking dinner–quotidian life is not blessed only in the solitude and contemplation that it affords. Solitude can easily lead to loneliness. It is also a blessing to live the quotidian life in community. I can’t email while holding Marilee or changing her diaper or folding her clothes. But I can easily attend to those everyday tasks while talking with a friend who is in the room with me. I can’t really talk on the phone while Penny and William run around the yard. But I can chat with another parent from our neighborhood as our kids kick balls and run and jump and every so often need our attention.
Quotidian actions fill my days, and I am trying to be attentive to and grateful for the rhythms of life with a newborn. And yet I long for more of those moments to be ones that extend beyond my own thoughts, my own creativity, my own memory. I trust it is a holy longing, to share the ins and outs of household work with others, to watch our children grow together, to experience the quotidian in community.



Penelope Ayers is a memoir about the year I spent getting to know my mother-in-law, a beautiful, gracious, lonely New Orleanian who discovered one February morning that she has cancer. When she reached out for help, three generations of her fractured, colorful family responded, and in so doing, we all experienced grace and healing.
posted July 29, 2010 at 11:40 am
I like the script you wrote.
PS When you tweet your posts, can you shorten the url? Makes for a better RT.
posted July 29, 2010 at 2:05 pm
Part of my training – and I expect the training for most folks seeking ordination – was in Clinical Pastoral Education, or hospital chaplaincy. One of the lessons I have taken with me for all these years is that as chaplains we are not there only for the patients and their family. We are there also for the whole range of medical professionals. As a part of that presence we can help them deliver a difficult diagnsis. My hope is that the medical professionals know enough to ask a chaplain for guidance and assistance with this. It does not mean they will do it for them, but they will help coach the medical staff in talking humanely with the family and patient.
God is with us in our sorrow, our confusion, and when facing the tremendous unknown. Look for God’s presence in those challenging times and you will discover profound moments of love and joy.
posted July 29, 2010 at 2:15 pm
I have “met” many parents online who, unfortunately, have had poor experiences with doctors’ deliveries of a Down syndrome diagnosis. My OB actually delivered the news with kindness and heart, and I will always be thankful for that. It was one of the most defining moments of my life thus far.
posted July 29, 2010 at 2:27 pm
Physicians are often unaware of the impact of how they deliver a diagnosis and the words they choose for such an important conversation. Your recommendations were right on the money. The National Down Syndrome Congress has an online tutorial by physicians to help their colleagues with the delivery of a diagnosis (www.ndsccenter.org/physiciansguide/). We are also advertising in two OB/GYN professional publications trying to get the word out that people with Down syndrome are more like the rest of us, than they are different.
Thanks for your excellent post.
David Tolleson
NDSC Executive Director
posted July 29, 2010 at 3:30 pm
I remember nothing about what my doc said except the words “chromosomal abnormality.” I think you’re right…the specific words are less important than the attitude behind them.
And doc’s (and hospitals) need to know how to handle a child with DS. That seems ridiculous to have to say, but our hospital and staff didn’t seem to know what was standard practice–echo, etc.–for a child with Down’s. Parents shouldn’t have to be battling when they’re bruised and bleeding. The best gift the medical staff can give is to ease them through the first few days.
posted July 29, 2010 at 3:32 pm
Rereading that, I want to make sure I say that I adore my doc, and his part in the process could not have been better. We also had lots of good staff members…but some who were not, too.
posted July 29, 2010 at 4:19 pm
Our son, Jeff had so many troubles in his first year that our dear pediatrician didn’t want to worry us more with her suspicion of Down syndrome. Jeff had this breathing noise and our parents insisted we see a specialist. An ENT (Ear, Nose, Throat) doctor examined Jeff, then asked, “Mr. and Mrs. Reisch, did you ever think that Jeff might be retarded?” That blew our minds, and when we finally stopped asking, “Why us, Lord?!?” and asked, “Where do we go from here?” then we could see the people around us who could help Jeff become all he was capable of being. I invite you to read Jeff’s story in “Journey With Jeff; Inspiration for Caregivers of People with Special Needs.” (This is available at Amazon.com) I wrote it so that no one needs to feel alone.
posted July 29, 2010 at 6:18 pm
Amy Julia
An excellent, and succinct, response on how and what to say when delivering a diagnosis.
Last year, a group led by Dr. Skotko published articles on best practices for delivering a pre- and a post-natal diagnosis. These guidelines can be accessed at:
http://www.brianskotko.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=blogcategory&id=4&Itemid=7
Best,
Mark Leach
Chairman, Informed Decision Making Task Force
Down Syndrome Affiliates in Action
posted July 29, 2010 at 7:24 pm
Mark, Thanks for drawing our attention to those guidelines. I’m going to edit the body of the post and include them. I too am very grateful for Dr. Skotko’s work!
posted July 29, 2010 at 11:22 pm
Amy Julia,
Thanks for this post. There is another resource available called Brighter Tomorrows and it is an interactive website for ob/gyn to learn how to deliver a diagnosis of DS. It also includes information for parents who have just found out their baby’s diagnosis.
I really enjoy your blog. I have a nine yr. old son with DS.
posted July 30, 2010 at 9:23 am
My friend Eileen whose 11 year old daughter has Ds says, “the one thing a diagnosis of Down syndrome cannot tell you is the unspeakable joy your child will bring you”. Together we formed KIDS Keep Infants with Down Syndrome to call attention to the 90% abortion rate of children with Ds. This is such a tragedy.
Another thing I’d say is, there is good news from science for those who have Ds. Dr William Mobley said last year that he sees a medical cure for the cognitive delays of Down syndrome in only 10 years. He is moving forward to collaborate with other researchers in
a very important meeting this week at the Royal Society of Medicine in London.
Prof William Mobley / USA, Prof Michael Crawford / UK, Prof Jacqueline London / France, plus our brain researchers.
Discussing medicines and research to improve memory and brain function.
Check our website http://www.dsrf-uk.org for more information.
Dont forget to support this research – we are in this together – fighting for our children looking for that miracle. Its just around the corner.
Peter Elliott
posted August 19, 2010 at 2:58 pm
There’s a really beautiful blog post I read by a mother whose daughter has DS. She describes how the pediatrician told her and her husband (she writes about how she knew the moment she first saw the baby). Here’s a link to the whole story: http://www.kellehampton.com/2010/01/nella-cordelia-birth-story.html
Here’s just the part about how the doctor told her. It’s really beautiful:
“I need to tell you something.”
…and I cried hard… “I know what you’re going to say.”
She smiled again and squeezed my hand a little tighter.
“The first thing I’m going to tell you is that your daughter is beautiful and perfect.”
…and I cried harder.
“…but there are some features that lead me to believe she may have Down Syndrome.”
Finally, someone said it.
I felt hot tears stream down and fall on my baby’s face. My beautiful, perfect daughter. I was scared to look up at Brett, so I didn’t. I just kissed her.
And then, Dr. Foley added…
“…but, Kelle….she is beautiful. and perfect.”
posted August 20, 2010 at 6:58 am
Kate–I love that story, and Kelle’s blog is gorgeous. Thanks for sharing it with us here. Amy Julia