My daughter; my burden

Having a mentally challenged child is the biggest challenge I will probably ever know. I am not rich in any way – in fact, I am poor. Everyday is a struggle to survive in a world that has not favoured me in any way and now, old and frail, I have given in to my fate to live and leave with nothing accomplished….except perhaps, finally gaining freedom from a burden that has threatened my sanity every day for the past twenty eight years.

 

I was in my forties when my daughter was born and that day was one of the happiest in my life. Being childless had been a big worry for me because I always felt that a child was proof that we existed even long after we are gone.

 

It was a few years after she was born that we realized something was wrong. Eventually, it was confirmed that she had some mental deficiencies. We were sad but accepted our fate. Our child didn’t have to be perfect for us to love her; we just did. Our happiness continued until my daughter hit puberty and then, it all changed.

 

She became sick and after treating her for a bunch of things, the doctor suggested a pregnancy test which upset me. She was only fourteen years old, an innocent girl who didn’t even have her faculties intact. What was the doctor thinking? I protested but the doctor insisted and he was right. She was pregnant. I was weak. Several attempts to get the name of the boy who impregnated her proved unsuccessful as she insisted she didn’t know. We were poor already and the extra mouth would be a burden but we soldiered on – we had no choice. Since it was obvious that someone probably took advantage of her, we began to monitor her closely, refusing to let her go anywhere unattended. This worked until she turned twenty and brought home another pregnancy. I was shocked. Again, we tried to get her to tell us who was responsible but she didn’t know and threats and cries from us yielded nothing. She just didn’t know. With two young kids, things got very hard and we struggled to stay afloat.

 

A few months ago, she fell sick. Tests were done and it was confirmed. She is pregnant again and like before, she has no idea who the father is. She volunteered information that the person had sex with her in a field near where she worked and that was all she knew. Her mother fell to the floor, wailing, and I just stared at her, recalling how happy I'd been when she was born and how her mental diagnosis had not affected my happiness in any way. I love my daughter but now, I have come to realise she is my biggest burden. I have fought hunger, pain, hurt, failure and disappointment in myself. But how do I fight the emotions that come with a child who will continue to break my heart.