Dear future nurse & doctor

When you discover my extra chromosome, please think before you speak. Do you believe you will be breaking bad news to my parents, or simply sharing unexpected news?

I don’t think I’m bad news. The way my mum and dad hear you explain to them, at this first, fragile moment, will stay with them for ever.

Please don’t apologise to my mum and dad as you tell them about me. There’s nothing to be sorry about, as there’s nothing wrong with being different. All parents tell their children this as they grow: celebrate difference! Be yourself! Well, I am different, and I am myself.

Remember, please, Nurse and Doctor, that nobody can predict the future, not the veiled lady at the fair with the crystal ball, and not you. I have a full life ahead of me, with rewards so large and bright I can’t yet imagine them, so please – please? – don’t engulf my mummy and daddy with negativity or sadness at my starting line. They don’t deserve that. The worst-case scenarios from a century ago – that I’ll never recognise my mum, that I may never walk or talk – are outdated stereotypes; please use your strength and knowledge to fight them for me.

And now you know about my extra chromosome, please could you do your best to keep referring to me as… me?

I’m not suddenly a “they” or an “it”, we all already know that I am a little boy. Bean, you’ve called me so far, and I’ve liked it. Can I stay Bean, please?

I’ve not got much in the way of anything yet, small as I am, I have no nursing or medical degrees, no letters after my name – I’m not Bean MRCP FRCOG. (Not yet anyway.) But I do know some things that you don’t know:

I know that I will make my parents’ hearts burst with love and pride, that I will amaze and astound them. I know that there will not be a day in their lives when they wish I didn’t exist or regret my birth. I know that my big sister, already so excited to meet me, will love me unconditionally, and that my life will make her life better, as hers will mine.

If you suspect I may have some medical issues when I am born, could you start by explaining that I’m developing all the time whilst here cosy in the womb, and things change? If you think I’m likely to need some intervention when I arrive, my parents would really, really appreciate being reminded by you of how skilled your colleagues are.

If Mummy and Daddy are shocked or scared when you tell them, please help them. Let them know about all the parents, grandparents, brothers, sisters, aunties, and uncles who have walked this path and will hold their hands. Please hold their hands yourselves. None of us should feel alone.

I understand that your medical textbooks taught you terms like fetal anomaly and chromosomal abnormality. I know what they mean, and, hey, we’re all a bit anomalous and abnormal, aren’t we? Including you? Isn’t that what makes life… fun? So here I am, holding my breath as you release yours to tell my mum and dad this news.

Dear Future Doctor, Dear Future Nurse, my future begins in this moment, with you. I’m the very same Bean looking forward to my life with excitement as I was yesterday. Please hold that in your head and heart as you begin to talk.

Yours,
Bean

Written by Nicola Enoch, Charity CEO & Property Developer, mum to Emily and Tom