Our Babies
Luke and Claire
"Welcome to Holland"
By Emily Perl Kingsley, 1987. All rights reserved.
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 out 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....and 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 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.Thursday, December 8, 2016
Perceptions
Not only does the debate over my eyesight leave me with questions, it is also my perception of reality that leaves me questioning if life is as "boring" as I often tell my friends and family when they call to check in.
Last week, I was over in Shreveport for a quick work trip with Squish, my Executive Assistant. I came back home to a fun weekend of date night, Christmas decorating, a Christmas party, running my half marathon, and after my celebratory nachos in the bathtub (because I'm classy like that), Patrick boarded a plane for a week in Vegas.
The kiddos had their 12 therapy appointments, and worked chugged along as usual. It's Thursday, and I'm at over 300 e-mails for the week - steady and standard. But somewhere in there, we're throwing in getting our Bossier house rented (yay), fighting with insurance on some of Claire's coverage (boo), two Christmas parties, and a Billy Joel concert. I don't feel like this is crazy or the least bit hectic because to us, it's just a normal week. There is plenty of time for chatting on the phone, watching Hallmark Christmas movies, and snuggling with the midgets. Any parent and/or working adult can relate to the usual daily grind.
Tonight, Claire's nurse cancelled her shift because she is sick, and the respite care office was trying to find a last-minute sub. The new placement nurse called to find out more about Claire, and I explained that she was pretty low acuity - no g-tube or trach, but non-verbal, limited use of limbs, in a wheelchair, uses diapers, in a cast for scoliosis, etc. She stopped me mid-sentence, and said, "That is NOT low acuity. You have just convinced yourself because she isn't hooked up to machines! She still needs a care-giver for all of her needs."
Oh.
So, maybe I my perceptions are a bit off. Maybe "boring" isn't the right word for us, or "low acuity" isn't the right way to describe Claire. All I know is whatever the heck we want to define this as, it is pretty dang fun....even if I have no depth perception.
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