metaphortunate | good morning, gorilla

Last night I dreamed (vivid, fever dreams) that the Junebug was not an actual human baby; I dreamed that we had adopted a baby gorilla. And I was looking at him, lying in his crib in his diaper, all furry, and thinking that right now he is adorable and everybody loves him but what is going to happen when he is a full-grown male gorilla? We won't be able to control him! Full-grown male gorillas are dangerous! He'll have been raised as a human, but he'll never be able to live alone - what happens when we're gone! And in the dream I was thinking that maybe I wanted to have a human baby of my own - but what would the Junebug think, would he think that we loved him any less, would he hate his sibling for being so different and being able to do stuff he'd never do?

Hello, my anxieties about having a special needs child!

(No reason as of now to think that the Junebug is special needs - but these things happen sometimes.)

It's really ugly how having a baby has forced me to confront some of my own -isms. I want my child to be able to walk, I want my child to be able to read! How different is that from saying "I want a child who is able to walk?" I think it's different? But maybe not that different. Argh. But I want all these things for him, I want his path to be easy! I guess it's just really important not to project disappointment on him for the harder paths that he may end up having to take in some way.

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I agree with your last two sentences.

Also _Good Night, Gorilla_ is a delightful book and in our household leads to things like this: http://scienceblogs.com/principles/2012/02/bonsoir_baboon.php

Hee! That is great.

My mom cried for a week when I came out because she wanted my life to be easy.

Yeah - that is exactly what I don't want to do!

Man, I loved that book. The little balloon!

(ahem)

This is similar to anxiety dreams I had. You have my utmost sympathy. I think it turns out that we are always surprised by the things that turn out to be hard for our kiddos. I know my parents are surprised by my troubles, and I am surprised by the things my kids run into. Like my current guiltfest: Baz is hesitating to make new friends because we're moving.

Hah, good point, the actual troubles will be things I fail to predict! :P

Yay moving, though? No more bilocation?

I think you've made a very important distinction: it's not that you would think less of him or his path if he ended up on taking a more difficult journey. But the world would, and of course you want to protect your baby and of course you want your baby to have all the good things and be happy always and never suffer! That is normal, but knowing you can't protect your kid from all suffering & social injustices has got to be one of the hardest realities a person can face.

I have a friend whose mother wept when he came out to her; she's incredibly supportive of him and generally an awesome queer ally, but I think she even shocked herself with her reaction. Because she was supposed to smile and hug him, right? She did that part, but then she cried, because for no fault of his, her baby would have a harder path and suffer injustices because of problems she couldn't fix. So she cried. It wasn't about being gay, it was about the baby who's going to have it rough.

You are super-awesome for thinking about this so carefully. You will be fucking AMAZING with the Junebug, no matter what paths he ends up taking - you love him so much, and you are being so thoughtful, and you are going to be a most excellent advocate and ally and parent.

That's exactly what I don't want to do, is cry! And I totally understand it! But it is such a dispiriting reaction, for the person coming out.

And thanks! I'm going to try really hard, anyway...

I empathize with your concern and your guilt. As I keep listening to the ever-varying statistics about whether Junior has Downs or not (these stats change as I get new blood tests and as his limbs grow and whatnot) (and they're not very high, btw, in case you were wondering). It's like, I want him to be happy and have an easy life and for no one to be mean to him. But it seems wrong to hope that he doesn't have Downs, because there's nothing wrong with it! But then I do hope that anyway. So I think what I'm saying is I feel you.

Except we have all met those people, those people who are steeped in the ability to do everything their parents ever wished for them from birth. And a goodly percentage of them are TOTAL FUCKING ASSHOLES. And there's a causality at work. I mean, I want my children never to have to deal with the cruel world too - but even less do I want them to perpetuate it, which so often seems to be the tradeoff. So I guess my wish as a parent is more about no difficulties they can't handle, or I can't handle, in the long run? I dunno.

I don't know, actually. I'm not sure I know anyone whose path was totally smooth. And too often suffering doesn't seem to lead to empathy at ALL.

good morning, gorilla

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