This morning, I took Elizabeth to the orthodontist. It was a first consultation, so everything was very easy going and pleasant. Her orthodontist shares the name of Elizabeth’s twin sister, Katherine, and when I told her, she replied that we have royalty in our house. A queen and a princess. I laughed, and said, “Would you believe we also have a prince? Prince William.”
“We do, too!” She said. “He is my little prince. He was born prematurely.” We talked briefly about her William, and then eased back into orthodontic talk surrounding Elizabeth.
As we were leaving, I mentioned that my William would be coming to see her soon, as well. She asked what she would be seeing him for, and I mentioned a cross bite and the need for an expander, because his mouth plate was too small for all of his teeth. I told her he had Down syndrome, so these issues were quite typical, and she nodded knowingly and asked how he did at the dentist. I told her it was a big struggle at first, but the last two visits, now with Dr. LaRock, had gone quite smoothly. Great, she said, maybe I could bring him in on Elizabeth’s next visit to get him comfortable here. Then, she shared with me that her William also had learning issues, due to his prematurity, but he had a great teacher this year, the same one her other son had the previous year, so she was much relieved. I replied to that, “Yes, I understand. Every year, it’s like starting at zero. It’s a wonderful relief when you don’t have to.”
“Ah, yes!” She nodded in agreement, “It’s exactly that, isn’t it? With all of his academic issues, I just want him to be happy at school.”
There are so many pieces that go together to make that work, the parents, the siblings, the IEPs, the teachers, the assistants, the special ed director, the therapists, the peers, and the laws to be upheld if not being adhered to. I have found, in this journey with a child with special needs, the explaining can be freaking exhausting. When I happen upon a doctor, or a school administrator, that just gets it like she does, I know I have struck gold.
The royal woman who shares my daughter’s name will undoubtedly be Wil’s orthodontist.
Not too long ago, I was having a very trying morning with Wil. I left the house out of sorts, to teach a bootcamp class. I pumped myself up on the way, and taught the class in high spirits, but underneath that morning was still tugging on me. After class was completed, and we all dropped on the mat to stretch, I happened to sit down with two other mothers who have kids with special needs. We talked about typical everyday things, slow and easy, enjoying the reward of the down time after a tough class. I could no longer ignore the downward pull I was feeling, and as the class emptied out, and we still sat there, foam rolling our sore muscles, I shared that I was frustrated from my morning, and I was having a hard time shaking it. They immediately gave me a nod of understanding, just like the kind doctor earlier today. They got it. No explaining needed. They opened up, began sharing some of their stories, and though our children all had different disabilities and challenges, the underlying emotions were the same. We formed a bond, and I knew, these friends were golden.
A diagnosis immediately places you in a very vulnerable position. It can be very scary at first, it’s uncharted territory for you. But you meet people who understand, who get it, and they help you along the way when you need it. You learn, and you grow, and begin to understand how golden that innate understanding is. I have lived and I have learned. There are people who have dove in and criticized, how I “Should” be doing things this way, and “should do” that and judged every little move I made. But, the funny part is, not a single one of them has a child like Wil. They are the sideline critics, and I no longer have time for them. Their words are loud, but hold no meaning. There is a quote that says, be vulnerable, then put up a big fence.
Then, there are the golden people. When I started opening myself up, so many amazing coincidences have happened that invited them into my life, for which I am eternally thankful.
In this life, I have found that unity and a sense of community is everything. These friends are my gold, they are my shine. We serve to brighten one another. And, if you are one of those that enjoys throwing stones at things that shine, I hope you enjoy the view of our big fence.