Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Expectations: Raising A Son With Special Needs



It's summer weather and I bought a dress that requires a strapless bra, on a whim at Target. As I was imagining how fun that dress would be to wear, my thoughts wandered to the only strapless bra that I own: the one I wore to my wedding 24 years ago.  And I knew it would still fit me, even though it lay quietly untouched year after year.  And then my associative thinking went to how I am the same skeleton as I was 24 years ago, at least externally.  In other words, I still weigh the same and thus the bra still fits. And I remember that day 24 years ago, one of my best days ever. How thrilling it was to have all that hope and expectation about the life my husband and I would create. And of course, then it really hit me: the fact of Willie. The sad, heart-breaking fact.

Because it is true, my life is wholly informed by Willie every step of the way. Twenty-two years of Willie and his trials and tribulations seeping into every cell of my body, being, and self. Twenty-two years of being a Mother to a Special Needs child.  That role defining me first and foremost and getting in the way of all my other roles.  Defining all my other roles.  I mean seriously how can you get sad about your typical kid not making the team, being accepted into the gifted program, getting their heart broken when you have Willie and all his life and death concerns?  Did he have another life threatening seizure today? Did we win the battle with the school district to provide Willie the best educational experience based on his complex neurological needs? Hard to get excited about the 72 your typical kid got on an exam or the angst brought on by hormonal acne.

This was not what I expected that June day, 24 years ago. It was a life full of kids for sure, but not one that included a Special Needs child.  I dreamed about birthday parties, school graduations, typical American life concerns.  I never imagined I would become adept in all things Special Needs in terms of seizures, hospital stays, IEP's, Neurological Damage, the rights of kids with Disabilities...

Who knew one dress could stir so many feelings and recollections?