I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this...When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome To Holland"."Holland?!?" you say, "What do you mean "Holland"??? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy"But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease.It's just a different place.So you must go and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around…and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills...Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy...and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned".And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away...because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.But...if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things...about Holland.
by Emily Perl Kingsley
3 comments:
LOVE THAT PICTURE. Can I have one? Pleeeeeaaaaassseeee?
thanks, i can't believe i posted it. no makeup, swollen eyes, etc...but it captured the moment. of course you can have one.
Anyone who was in the waiting roomthat day knows the relief that came pouring out of a grandmother's heart as I entered the room to announce to anxious ears that our baby girl was breathing on her own and beautiful! I had witnessed a MIRACLE!
You see,my daughter and I spent months of countless hours in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, blindly stumbling in the dark to the internet to search for answers...........and finding each other there, she in Utah, I in Texas, we held hearts across cyberspace to ease our uncertainty. We saw together the unspeakable images of what our baby girl might be packaged in. The questions plagued me night and day, but seemed to intensify as I tried to relax and rest. How could this be happening? How will Bri and Brady be able to handle this? What if our baby doesn't live? I knew it all lay in God's hands.
I sewed a dress for my sweet granddaughter hoping she would live to be blessed in it. It was the most spiritual experience that I have ever known while sewing a garment. Brooklyn was near, she seemed to comfort me so I could fight the tears as I taught myself new skills on the finest french cotton money can buy. She was there so I could see through my tears, I couldn't wear mascara while I sewed it.
So if you were there that day, please try to understand, there was no drama intended. Sheer joy spilled out of my being. I felt the warmth of her tiny body through that dress. And even though I live more than a thousand miles away...........I jump for joy at her every achievement. Brooklyn, you make me smile baby. Love Mimi
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