My first experience with an orphanage rocked me. I’ll never forget infants swaddled and stacked three to a crib. Or the tiny room teeming with snot-nosed toddlers covered with fungal skin infections clambering just to get our attention, to be touched. Or the girl with obvious deformities in the corner self-stimulating by swaying back and [...]
I told myself certain diagnoses were likely, prepped for the news down to the last expectant seconds as my husband and I took our seats in the psychologist’s office. But the words, out loud and official, slammed the Thing into reality, gave it legs. Before the sonic boom of the diagnosis, our Thing hadn’t existed. Only possibilities.