Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:As the mom of a child w/ a now-repaired cleft lip and cleft palate, your post moved me to tears. I couldn't have said it better myself. I totally agree with it. Parents, it really is true: "If you ever find yourself in that position of discovering that your child is not going to be who you thought: relax. It's not going to be that bad. You are strong enough, you are amazing enough, you will do just fine. There's no need to panic. Remember that people with disabilities are people. They love, they laugh, they play, they communicate, they live. If you can get over yourself, you will do just fine."
Another really thoughful thing about this same topic is: "Welcome to Holland"
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/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.
1. How dare you equate a cleft palate to a mortal condition?! I have literally never heard of anyone aborting for a cleft palate. You have some serious issues if you think this.
2. My friends with SN kids find the Holland metaphor to be really trite and offensive. We ALL make plans for our children without knowing who they are or who they'll become. We all end up on the trip to Holland.
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:As the mom of a child w/ a now-repaired cleft lip and cleft palate, your post moved me to tears. I couldn't have said it better myself. I totally agree with it. Parents, it really is true: "If you ever find yourself in that position of discovering that your child is not going to be who you thought: relax. It's not going to be that bad. You are strong enough, you are amazing enough, you will do just fine. There's no need to panic. Remember that people with disabilities are people. They love, they laugh, they play, they communicate, they live. If you can get over yourself, you will do just fine."
Another really thoughful thing about this same topic is: "Welcome to Holland"
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/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.
1. How dare you equate a cleft palate to a mortal condition?! I have literally never heard of anyone aborting for a cleft palate. You have some serious issues if you think this.
2. My friends with SN kids find the Holland metaphor to be really trite and offensive. We ALL make plans for our children without knowing who they are or who they'll become. We all end up on the trip to Holland.
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:As the mom of a child w/ a now-repaired cleft lip and cleft palate, your post moved me to tears. I couldn't have said it better myself. I totally agree with it. Parents, it really is true: "If you ever find yourself in that position of discovering that your child is not going to be who you thought: relax. It's not going to be that bad. You are strong enough, you are amazing enough, you will do just fine. There's no need to panic. Remember that people with disabilities are people. They love, they laugh, they play, they communicate, they live. If you can get over yourself, you will do just fine."
Another really thoughful thing about this same topic is: "Welcome to Holland"
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/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.
"Welcome to Holland" is so stupid it makes my head hurt.
Anonymous wrote:As the mom of a child w/ a now-repaired cleft lip and cleft palate, your post moved me to tears. I couldn't have said it better myself. I totally agree with it. Parents, it really is true: "If you ever find yourself in that position of discovering that your child is not going to be who you thought: relax. It's not going to be that bad. You are strong enough, you are amazing enough, you will do just fine. There's no need to panic. Remember that people with disabilities are people. They love, they laugh, they play, they communicate, they live. If you can get over yourself, you will do just fine."
Another really thoughful thing about this same topic is: "Welcome to Holland"
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/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.
Anonymous wrote:As the mom of a child w/ a now-repaired cleft lip and cleft palate, your post moved me to tears. I couldn't have said it better myself. I totally agree with it. Parents, it really is true: "If you ever find yourself in that position of discovering that your child is not going to be who you thought: relax. It's not going to be that bad. You are strong enough, you are amazing enough, you will do just fine. There's no need to panic. Remember that people with disabilities are people. They love, they laugh, they play, they communicate, they live. If you can get over yourself, you will do just fine."
Another really thoughful thing about this same topic is: "Welcome to Holland"
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/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.
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:I think you need to MYOB. People make decisions for themselves based on THEIR life and THEIR situation.
No decision made is easy for parents in respect to this and I find your post offensive.
I find it offensive that people would choose to kill a wanted child because he/she has a disability.
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:I think you need to MYOB. People make decisions for themselves based on THEIR life and THEIR situation.
No decision made is easy for parents in respect to this and I find your post offensive.
I find it offensive that people would choose to kill a wanted child because he/she has a disability.
Anonymous wrote:I think you need to MYOB. People make decisions for themselves based on THEIR life and THEIR situation.
No decision made is easy for parents in respect to this and I find your post offensive.
Anonymous wrote:I am reading these abortion thread in tears. (Blame the 12 week hormones.) I cannot believe the number of women who are caviler about aborting a baby with downs, spina bifida, etc. My sister (in another part of the country) has an amazing little girl with spina bifida. This little girl is so smart (top reading group!), gorgeous, and has lots of friends. She is a speed demon in her wheelchair and will probably be doing backflips in her wheelchair soon. This is a kid that the doctors encouraged them to abort because of the "low quality of life"!!! There have been some challenging times for the family - 5 significant surgeries, 4 of which I flew out to be there for my sister. BUT, its not nearly as bad as people from the outside might think or imagine. My niece is just like any other 1st grade girl - she just so happens to need a wheelchair to play and has some (manageable!) extra medical needs. We are not a religious family, but I am so proud and grateful that my sister choose life for my niece!!!
My sister recently linked on FB to this blog of another SB family. It has stuck with me, esp this part:
"We have such a double standard going. We pat our kids on the head and tell them that they should be nice to the little kid in the wheelchair. Don't stare at the little girl bouncing on her toes trying to fly. Don't point at the little boy who looks a little different. Be nice. Be friendly. Just don't you dare be my child.
. . . .
If you ever find yourself in that position of discovering that your child is not going to be who you thought: relax. It's not going to be that bad. You are strong enough, you are amazing enough, you will do just fine. There's no need to panic. Remember that people with disabilities are people. They love, they laugh, they play, they communicate, they live. If you can get over yourself, you will do just fine."
http://thelittlekingsley.blogspot.com/2012/03/its-not-that-bad.html