Meriah Nichols is a counselor. Solo mom to 3 (one with Down syndrome, one on the spectrum). Deaf, and neurodiverse herself, she’s a gardening nerd who loves cats, Star Trek, and takes her coffee hot and black.
It's such a struggle to finish the letter to Kaiser. Each*and*every time I sit down to finish that letter, I start off with being horrified that it's taking me so long to finish it. Because each day that I don't finish it is a day that these two doctors might have been advising another scared, vulnerable and impressionable mother to abort her Moxie.
I feel like crying.
And then I think about how I felt, being that scared, vulnerable and impressionable mother. I go back to that space of being so terrified of having a kid with Down syndrome, so full of grief and pain and hurt and anger.
Then I am crying.
The letter means much to me. I want it to be strong. A mighty, invincible missive that will somehow don a cape and swipe away all the misery I felt then – and that others probably felt too. A letter that will stop those doctors in their tracks. Like Moxie's Birth Story though, it's likely to never be perfectly written. By me, anyway. But that's okay – it just needs to be written.
I'm going to go and finish the letter. And leave you with Little Miss in her Improvised Hat of the Day (the gorgeous shirt from Aunties Audrey and Leslie – thank you!)