Welcome to Holland

Today I was talking to my mom about a new friend I have. She has a daughter with brain damage and all that comes along with that.  She has been such an encouragement for me.  It has been so wonderful to have a friend in my life that understands the complexity of a life with a special needs child.  

Yet even with that understanding, I've come to realize that we can never fully understand each other's journey.  We are different people.... with different emotions, different personalities, different families and the ways we were raised.... different priorities, different interests, different minds.  Her child's needs and Carson's needs are not exactly the same.  Our children see a lot of the same therapy departments through early intervention and see some of the same specialists at Children's, but our journeys are not identical.  

We can understand each other and the journeys of being a mom to an extra special kiddo - yet cannot fully understand each others paths.  So how much harder is it, when asked by someone who has never been there, what it is like to have a special needs child........ its hard.  How do you put it all into words???

I've shared this essay on Facebook before... my mind comes back to it often.  I wanted to share it on here as well.  It is an essay written by Emily Perl Kingsley in 1987.  It is titled "Welcome to Holland".  It is the closest thing in my mind, to summarizing what its like to have a special needs child.  I hope you enjoy it.

WELCOME TO HOLLAND

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 Sistine Chapel, Gondolas. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting. After several 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 guidebooks. 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. You begin to notice that Holland has windmills. Holland has tulips. And 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 experience will never, ever, ever, go away. 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.