Expecting Adam, by Martha Beck, is the best book I’ve read in a long time. And I read a lot of good books, so, you know, you should rush out and read it yourself immediately. Beck and her husband were Harvard graduate students when she became pregnant with their second child. They were both driven, ambitious, pragmatic people and were very concerned about how the new baby would affect their career paths – especially when Beck became very ill during pregnancy, and even more so when they found out that the baby had Down Syndrome. Everyone around them assumed they would terminate the pregnancy. But ever since she became pregnant, Beck started having inexplicable but comforting “spiritual” experiences – a friend suddenly showing up at the door with groceries when Beck herself was too ill to get off the couch and feed herself and her daughter; a mysterious stranger helping her and her daughter down the stairs when their apartment building caught fire; the ability to “see” her husband as her traveled for business in Asia. It sounds hokey when I describe it, but the great thing about the book is that Beck admits that it is hokey, that even while she was experiencing these thigns, part of her was protesting that there are no such things as angels or signs or premonitions – and yet they were happening to her anyway. As she and her husband come to terms with the prospects of having a less-than-perfect son, they also re-evaluate the choices they’ve made and the plans they have for the future. She’s a wonderful writer, and the book is funny and moving and smart and honest. Here’s how she describes what she’s learned from Adam since his arrival:
Read this book. It’s wonderful.
Also wonderful was my mom’s visit. It was really good to see her. The day after she left Mallory behaved absolutely beastly and has asked at least twenty times when she’s coming back. (Phoebe echoes, “Where’s Grandmom?”) We miss you already, Mom!
Living with Adam, loving Adam, has taught me a lot about the truth. He has taught me to look at things in themselves, not at the value a brutal and often senseless world assigns to them. As Adam’s mother I have been able to see quite clearly that he is no less beautiful for being called ugly, no less wise for appearing dull, and no less precious for being seen as worthless. And neither am I. Neither are you. Neither is any of us.
Read this book. It’s wonderful.
Also wonderful was my mom’s visit. It was really good to see her. The day after she left Mallory behaved absolutely beastly and has asked at least twenty times when she’s coming back. (Phoebe echoes, “Where’s Grandmom?”) We miss you already, Mom!
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