JavaScript is disabled in your web browser or browser is too old to support JavaScript. Today almost all web pages contain JavaScript, a scripting programming language that runs on visitor's web browser. It makes web pages functional for specific purposes and if disabled for some reason, the content or the functionality of the web page can be limited or unavailable.
Vieraskieliset / In-english

Blog: Best ext­ra chro­mo­so­me ever

Vieraskieliset / In-english
26.3.2018 6.56

When we speak about a per­son who so­me­how de­vi­a­tes from the norm, we tend to un­der­li­ne how that per­son – des­pi­te his or her di­ag­no­sis – can read, do math, or sing so ext­re­me­ly well. How a child who has the same di­ag­no­sis as our son can speak and write flu­ent­ly in two lan­gu­a­ges. How anot­her such child was ful­ly pot­ty-trai­ned by the age of 2, and so on. These things are su­re­ly a cau­se of joy for eve­ry­bo­dy. We like to share hero sto­ries. We need them. But I am going to share a hero story that is a bit dif­fe­rent.

The child laughs hap­pi­ly, his half-moon ey­es scre­wed up. My own he­art be­ats so hard it could be jum­ping out of my mouth.

– You must not run away like that. You may get lost or be run over by a car, I pant squ­at­ting down next to him and hol­ding back te­ars of re­lief.

The child inc­li­nes his head and ta­kes hold of my hand. Ba­re­foot we slow­ly pad up to­ward home, and I feel my bre­at­hing gra­du­al­ly slow down. At the front door the child gi­ves me a qu­es­ti­o­ning look.

– Let’s go home and have a snack, I sug­gest.

– Yes, ple­a­se, he ag­rees hap­pi­ly.

He is al­re­a­dy thin­king about the here and now, while my own thoughts still lin­ger on the hor­ri­fying pos­si­bi­li­ties of what could have hap­pe­ned when he ran off on his own. What IF so­met­hing had hap­pe­ned? What IF the neigh­bor had not stop­ped his car in time? The free show of worst-case sce­na­ri­os con­ti­nu­es to play in my mind, though I am ab­le to act calm­ly.

When we go vi­si­ting friends, I run my eye over their home. The stairs are OK, the road has very lit­t­le traf­fic – but oh, the small child­ren of the ot­her vi­si­ting fa­mi­ly are pla­ying on the floor. And alt­hough my hus­band and I take turns kee­ping an eye on our son, he ma­na­ges at some point to make a bloo­dy scratch on the lit­t­le girl’s cheek. When as­ked to do so, he hap­pi­ly apo­lo­gi­zes, but I keep as­king my­self: Why? Why does he so­me­ti­mes hurt smal­ler child­ren? On­ly a few ye­ars ago, when he was about 4 ye­ars old, he was him­self still pla­ying on the floor, a char­ming lit­t­le boy with lo­ve­ly ey­es. Af­ter­wards, I qui­et­ly speak to him about the in­ci­dent. He pres­ses his hands over his ears and withd­raws in­to his pri­va­te world, cur­led up on the floor. I sigh and gent­ly stroke the stub­born cur­ve of his back. How I wish I had more un­ders­tan­ding with you, I think. Dear He­a­ven­ly Fat­her, give me enough wis­dom to live with this child, I plead in my eve­ning pra­yer.

When we talk about pe­op­le who de­vi­a­te from the norm in some way, we too of­ten ge­ne­ra­li­ze.

– Down pe­op­le are so hap­py and friend­ly.

– Au­tis­tic pe­op­le do not know how to make con­tact.

– ADHD pe­op­le are so rest­less.

Some ge­ne­ra­li­za­ti­ons are true, at le­ast of­ten. But qui­te a few are not. It is good to re­mem­ber that we all are pri­ma­ri­ly hu­man beings with our strengths, we­ak­nes­ses, and di­ag­no­ses.

Our child oc­ca­si­o­nal­ly ut­ters a ”sen­ten­ce” of a few words, mi­xing Fin­nish and Eng­lish, but he is cer­tain­ly not tal­ka­ti­ve. When or­gan ac­com­pa­ni­ment be­gins, he does not sing but pres­ses his hands over his ears and may growl a lit­t­le – there is too much noi­se for his over­sen­si­ti­ve per­cep­ti­on. He le­ar­ned to sit on the toi­let bowl when he was 7 ye­ars old, but he is still in di­a­pers. He does not tell me he would like to go to the bath­room.

But ear­ly in the mor­ning, this child walks from one bed to the ot­her, hug­ging, kis­sing, and wis­hing good mor­ning with hap­pi­ly twink­ling ey­es. He has time to won­der about a snail on the yard, feel de­ligh­ted about a bal­loon, and be over­jo­yed about a sum­mer­ti­me trip to the be­ach. He is hap­piest when sur­roun­ded by his fa­mi­ly, and his great sen­se of hu­mor ma­kes us laugh our he­ads off. For us, he is the su­per­he­ro of his life. He is im­por­tant for us as a spe­ci­al hu­man being. He has that one ext­ra chro­mo­so­me – the best ext­ra chro­mo­so­me ever.

Text: Sa­ri­an­na Suo­mi­nen

Trans­la­ti­on: Sirk­ka-Lii­sa Lei­no­nen

You will find the ori­gi­nal Fin­nish blog post here.

29.2.2020

Jee­sus sa­noo: "Koot­kaa it­sel­len­ne aar­tei­ta tai­vaa­seen. Siel­lä ei koi ei­kä ruos­te tee tu­ho­jaan ei­vät­kä var­kaat mur­tau­du si­sään ja va­ras­ta. Mis­sä on aar­tee­si, siel­lä on myös sy­dä­me­si." Matt. 6:20-21

Viikon kysymys