Welcome to Holland

When we took Collin to Scottish Rites in June his doctor gave me a packet of information and this poem was enclosed. I believe it was originally written for a child with downs syndrome but I believe any mother who has had a child with any disability or difference can relate. Welcome to Holland   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.  by Emily Perl Kingsley I read this poem and I wanted to scream "YES"! Yes, that is it, Yes, that is exactly what it feels like. It's not that it is horrible, just unexpected and quite heartbreaking because you love your child so much! So, here we are, settling in Holland. The questions and confused stares have become our new kind of normal. There is the woman who blurts out "Oh my, what happened to his fingers?" to the curious old lady who stares uncontrollably dying inside to ask but doesn't. The ladies who say "Aww..look at those fat rolls on his wrist." and I giggle inside and say "yeah". (there not fat rolls, they are scars from the bands) The child that checks his fingers out every time she sees him and apologizes that he has "owie's" on his hands. I'm learning not to lash out at them in my mother bear kind of reaction but instead to take the opportunity to share with them how much we have felt God's love through this and how we know that God has great plans for Collin despite his hand differences. Picking the fuzzies out of his creases on his fingers and wrist has become normal. They seem to be great places to collect lint. ;) Being overjoyed when he grips my finger has become normal. Who knew such a simple task would bring such joy? Those are the little things I would have taken for granted before. So as crazy as it sounds, his ABS is a blessing. I have met wonderful mothers and precious children through this experience that I would never have met otherwise. I have look forward to everything that God has to teach us through this baby boy of ours.