Which leads me to reexamine my personal views on what it means
to be tied indefinitely to someone with special needs. I’ve been thinking about
this a lot this week. How I used to view families in my situation, and I keep
coming back to the same word.
Pity.
I used to pity those families. The families that have little
to no hope for one of their own. For how devastated they must have been each
time bad news came in. As they watched their bar of expectations sink lower and
lower, until they finally stopped expecting things from their child. When they finally
realized their loved one would never be much more than a burden to the rest of
us.
So if you’ve ever thought that about my situation, stop.
Right now. I don’t want your pity.
Here’s why.
In the past when I felt pity for another family with a
special child, it was because I personally didn’t recognize that special child
as holding the same value as a typical developing child. Like he was a lower
class citizen because he would never be on the same playing field as the
typical kids. Clearly being burdened with a lower class citizen is a reason to
be pitied. Right?
Then that burden became my child. That lower class citizen
became a member of my family. And my perception changed. Imagine that.
How could I possibly have held someone else’s special kids
to a lower value? How am I ever going to say to myself that one of my children
is worth more than another? Because one will excel and the other won’t?
What are you thinking
woman? It’s never ok to evaluate another person’s worth for any reason. Ever. Sweet
Jesus you’d think I’d know that by now.
Having a special kid isn’t devastating. It’s not a burden. It’s
really just sort of normal. It’s different, yes. But you learn. As with
anything you fall into a rhythm. A routine.
And our situation is different anyway. While it is true Max
is adopted, it should also be remembered that we didn’t adopt a special needs
child on purpose. We knew Max before we made our decision to include him in our
family. We thought he was a normal kid.
Would our situation
have changed if we’d had an accurate list of diagnosis before we signed up?
Maybe. But I’m not going to dwell there. Because you don’t get to pick whether
your children are healthy or not. The end.
So do I know what the plan is for Max? No. Is my plan to bend
over backwards to get him the best education he can get to maybe eek out
another IQ point. Not really. I’m sort of ok with the idea of having a son who
stays six for the rest of his life. Because in the end it doesn’t really
matter.
If we hadn’t spoken for him he would have been cast out on
the street at the age of 18 with all the others. Aside from the fact that he now has parents who'll fight for him; being an American citizen
qualifies him for so much more assistance than he ever would have gotten if he’d
stayed in Russia. My son is not going to die on the street alone and afraid
because there was no one to help him.
So really, it doesn’t matter what the plan is. My kid has already beaten the odds.