D ear Daughter
I am writing you this letter because I want you to know.
I want you to know how excited I was when you were born. Then when Mommy and I found out about your syndrome we were devastated. We had no time to prepare emotionally for it; it was a sudden shock. We decided to love you and raise you like the rest of your siblings. You were our child and we would treat you as such.
I want you to know how I cared for you. Though I kept an impassive face I was shattered inwardly. No one will ever know of the many nights I cried into my pillow making sure that Mommy didn’t hear. No one will ever know of the many tears I shed in the safety of the car while driving on the highway. I begged Hashem to help you. Every day before I came home I hoped I’d discover that you’d made some progress. But I’d walk in and see you simply lying there without moving much and my heart would constrict with pain. I couldn’t even afford myself the freedom of sighing. Mommy was watching me and I needed to keep up a strong front for her sake.
I want you to know that I love you. When relatives started advising about alternative placement for you I was filled with righteous indignation. How dare they?! I loved you dearly and I didn’t want to give you away even as it got more and more difficult to have you home. They all wanted to know how Mommy would accept the idea. No one cared how I’d react to the idea; I was supposed to be the strong one with no emotions. The mere mention of the idea got Mommy all worked up. I got the punches from both sides — from Mommy for daring to bring it up and from the relatives because I was “standing by idly and allowing my wife to fall apart.” All because I loved you so!
