Expecting Adam by Martha Beck

Expecting Adam: A True Story of Birth, Rebirth, and Everyday Magic

Martha and her husband John were both working on graduate degrees at Harvard when they received news that the baby Martha was carrying (their second) had Down's Syndrome. Martha, who up to that point in time considered herself pro-choice, opted to keep the baby anyway, in spite of great pressure on her by her peers, professors, and doctors to do otherwise.

This memoir was an amazing read - not only the story, but the storytelling drew me in and captivated me as much or more than enjoyable fiction. This isn’t to say the story was “cute” or “light” (though there were moments of both), but it was real and honest to the point of bringing me to tears on more than one occasion and making me totally think Martha was looney for recounting the many unexplainable “spiritual” or “paranormal” encounters she had, mostly during her pregnancy with Adam, but also some after.

(Note: If I had realized there would have been as much of the “unexplainable” in the book before I read it, I might not have read it, as I would have dismissed it as New Age gobblely-gook. I still don’t know what I think about all that she experienced, but I know this: she experienced something and that something changed the way she viewed her life, viewed her world, and viewed the baby she was carrying and would have otherwise aborted.)

Reading about the way Martha processed through the news that Adam wouldn’t be a “normal” baby opened my eyes to the selfish way I often process news that is much less surprising or devastating than hers. Soon after she received the phone call and as she was on her way to a consulting appointment with a nurse at the University Health Services Center she writes:

“I lugged my abdomen toward Harvard Square, keeping my eyes fixed on the cobblestones directly in front of me. This was how I kept myself from coming apart. I had never meditated before, but over the next few months I would figure out how to do it without any instruction at all. I learned to wash my mind blank and stare at some object, real or imaginary, but not precisely alive. I devised mantras, phrases I repeated over and over to help me stop thinking. I remember vividly the mantra that got me from my apartment to the Co-op that afternoon. As I walked along the slushy sidewalks under a freezing rain, I murmured over and over, ‘Why not me? Why not me? Why not me?’ I can honestly say I never did ask the opposite question…”

She also tells a story about a Harvard acquaintance of hers who around that time had a relative commit suicide and how that shared pain (albeit different pain) seemed to “level the ground” between them and allowed them to talk openly with each other about their pain and fears:

“Since then, I am always perversely happy to hear that a friend has been knocked upside the head by some unpleasant event. I am not glad they’ve experienced pain, but I am profoundly grateful for the down-to-earth compassion that emerges only when people face their pain and absorb it into the fabric of their lives. (This, by the way, does not mean that I myself want to go through any more pain, of any kind, ever.)”

She told stories of the incredible callousness of folks like the woman who called Martha every time some little thing happened to her - like her washing machine breaking down - just to comfort herself by saying, “But it’s not nearly as bad as having a deformed baby, is it?” She also told amazing stories of people who came alongside her at just the exact time she needed them to, and without being asked, to care for, love, and serve her.

Martha also wrote of the...

“...second phase of her education, the one that followed all those years of school. In it, I have had to unlearn virtually everything Harvard taught me about what is precious and what is garbage… Now I think that the vast majority of us 'normal' people spend our lives trashing our treasures and treasuring our trash. We bustle around trying to create the impression that we are hip, imperturbable, omniscient, in perfect control, when in fact we are awkward and scared and bewildered. The irony is that we do this to be loved, all the time terrified of anyone who seems to be as perfect as we wish to be…”

“...the choice we made to accept [Adam] into our lives has done much more than give us a son we love to distraction. It has made risk takers of us. WE are not irrationally convinced that there is little to lose by taking the road less traveled, by making decisions based on nothing but dreams, or intuition, or our hearts’ desires. Since Adam came along we have quite good jobs, formed unusual relationships, undertaken projects that seemed crazy or quixotic or just plain dumb. Sometimes we succeed and sometimes we fail, but it’s always a great ride.”

This story is one of the few that after reading, I felt like a part of the story. I know I will think of Expecting Adam every time I see a family with a special needs child, be it Down's Syndrome or something else. I think I would question the pliability of anyone whose heart isn’t moved in some form or fashion after reading Martha’s story.

(Note: As I began to post this review, I did a bit of research on the Becks and discovered some disheartening information regarding life choices they have since made that were not disclosed in the book. Nonetheless, the writing of this book was still excellent and I appreciated this story, if not the rest of the author’s story.)