Kelly Dirkes often finds herself subjected to unwarranted judgment due to her decision, along with her husband, to adopt two children with Down’s Syndrome.
Despite their efforts to provide a comfortable life for their adopted children, people frequently put them in uncomfortable situations.
One such incident occurred when Kelly was shopping in a store, carrying the kids in a baby carrier. While she browsed for products, a woman approached her, attempting to offer unsolicited advice.
The woman suggested that Kelly should stop carrying the children in the baby carrier, asserting that it would hinder their independence. This comment left Kelly shocked and speechless at the time.
Rather than responding immediately, Kelly took a moment to process her feelings. Later, she decided to address the judgment and misconceptions by crafting a powerful letter.
In this letter, she not only responded to the woman who confronted her but also conveyed a broader message to those who pass judgment without understanding the challenges her family faces.
Kelly’s eloquent letter serves as a testament to her resilience and commitment to her family’s choices.
It sheds light on the importance of empathy and understanding before offering advice or passing judgment on others’ lives, particularly when it comes to unique circumstances such as raising children with special needs.
Her response is a powerful reminder that everyone’s journey is unique, and compassion should always precede judgment.
Here is the letter:
“I’ve heard the comment before, you know, that I’m ‘spoiling that baby.’ You were certain she’d never develop ‘independence.’ I responded with a smile, kissed her head, and continued my shopping.
If only you knew what I know.
If only you knew how the first ten months of her life were spent in complete solitude inside a sterile metal crib, finding solace only in sucking her fingers.
If only you knew the expression on her face when her orphanage caregiver handed her to me for the first time – moments of fleeting serenity mixed with sheer terror. No one had held her that way before, and she had no idea how to respond.
If only you knew she would lie in her crib after waking and never cry, as until now, no one had responded.
If only you knew anxiety was a constant in her day, alongside banging her head on crib rails and rocking for sensory input and comfort.
If only you knew that the baby in the carrier is heartbreakingly ‘independent’ – and how we will spend endless time trying to override the part of her brain that screams ‘trauma’ and ‘not safe.’
If only you knew what I know.
If only you knew that the baby now whimpers when she’s put down instead of when picked up.
If only you knew that the baby ‘sings’ loudly in the mornings and after naps because she knows her chatter will bring someone to lift her out of her crib and change her diaper.
If only you knew that the baby rocks to sleep in her Mama’s or Papa’s arms instead of rocking herself.
If only you knew that the baby made everyone cry the day she reached out for comfort, entirely unprompted.
If only you knew what I know.
‘Spoiling that baby’ is the most important and privileged job I will ever have. I will carry her for a little while longer – or as long as she’ll let me – because she is learning that she is safe, that she belongs, and that she is loved.
If only you knew…”