A very dear friend of mine circulated this essay while I was sick and she was facing the reality of a second child diagnosed with CF. It was SO impactful and something I think everyone should read. It doesn’t just have to pertain to having a kid with disabilities.
Life isn’t always as planned but takes you in amazingly wonderful directions if you are open to looking for the good. I truly believe the way to face tough challenges is head on with an open heart and open mind. I will talk about my “Italy” after the essay.
Thank you for sharing this essay Lizzy! I will write more about my friend Liz Buist and the wonderful things her and her family are doing for CF in a future post.
“Welcome To Holland”
Emily Perl Kinsley
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this….
When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michaelanglo David. The gondola in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.
After 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 awhile and you catch your breath, you look around and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills. Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandt’s.
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 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 will never, ever, ever go away, because 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.
My “Italy” was having a baby and everyone being healthy. I was so excited to have my first baby after waiting for so long. I couldn’t wait to enjoy those precious moments after her birth drench in joyous glory and happiness.
When everything started to unravel I tried really hard to focus on the positive and not let this challenge define us. I stayed positive but it did define us. It defined us as a family in the most wonderful ways I could have ever expected and created a bond between Grace and I that can’t be explained in words. That bond and what cancer did for our family is my “Holland” and it’s spectacularly beautiful.