Month: April 2018
These Halls Are Sacred
Recently I had the opportunity to go to Seattle Children’s Hospital to drop off some blankets for the children who have to stay there long term.
Because I have a child with Special Needs, I often come to this hospital but we utilize the other side of it. We are there to see specialists or have tests run. On this side of the hospital, the halls are teeming with families. If you ever need to feel better about your struggles in life, spend some time there. No matter how bad things are, someone here has it worse off than you. I’m always grateful when I go there that we have our own problems to deal with. But I am also humbled to be amongst so many brave warrior families who get up every day and walk this walk. They truly are my heroes.
On this occasion, we were in the other part of the hospital. The part where children come to stay for awhile. This side of the hospital is very different. There are no children in the hallways. They are all tucked away in rooms very sick. Here in these hallways are parents with very long faces, the cares they were experiencing written plainly on their faces for any parent who has been in their shoes to openly read.
My heart sank and then constricted as I walked these halls. We haven’t had occasion to need to use this part of the hospital since moving here two years ago. But there have been other children’s wards, other hospitals in our past. I have been that scared parent not knowing when your child will be able to come home, the one hoping that this surgery will fix things.
The men and women who work there as doctors and nurses are a special breed. Every nurse I’ve ever talked to about this, says that Pediatrics is one of the hardest places to work because every day you are having to hurt little children who often don’t understand why, as they deal with blood draws, surgeries, and being ill. You have to be able to take that in stride and know that in spite of the pain you are fighting to help them.
As we walk these halls, I realize, these halls are sacred. They were made so, by the many tears and prayers of the families who have walked these halls. By all the children who have fought battles worthy of David and Goliath and won. Or lost. Because some do lose.
Volunteer at your local children’s hospital or ward. I guarantee you won’t regret it.
*This was written the end of 2017, since then we have had the unfortunate need to use the other side of the hospital…
Watch the video here-
These Hands Are Beautiful Just As They Are
“These hands have a glorious track record… I don’t need long nails or polish to make me believe that they are beautiful. They are beautiful in what they have become.
Friday Memes
Brought to you by the children of An Ordinary Mom
Taking Down the Stigma of Mental Illness
“The more years that go by, the more people I talk to about this stigma that we fight; as unfair as it is, I’ve come to realize that it isn’t going to change until the very people who are suffering from these mental illness issues are brave enough to stand up and talk about it.”
Beautiful Perspective From an Extraordinary Girl
Recently my daughter has been asking to start a blog of her own. As we have the ability to make it private and only let specific people read it, we agreed.
I spent an hour or so one Saturday helping her set up the mechanics of a blog. I tried to be as hands-off as possible, to let her be in charge. I kept reminding myself it was her blog, not mine.
She had been working on her first post for a while when I happened to glance down and see what she named her blog- “An Extraordinary Girl”. That made me smile. Then I paused and reflected.
When I was thinking of what to name my blog and what I wanted it to be known by, I wanted people to know that I’m no one extraordinary. I’m just a Mom who has a passion for writing and social justice. Anyone could be writing words similar to mine but I am the one standing up (virtually) and saying them. I’m just “An Ordinary Mom”, and that’s okay. Ordinary Mom’s can do extraordinary things.
It struck me however how completely opposite her blog name was to the one I had chosen. “An Extraordinary Girl”, it made me smile. It made me happy to realize she thinks of herself in that way. The world will be telling her soon enough that she isn’t. I love her confidence in herself and who she is with that statement. She is extraordinary. There is no one else out there like her. She’s a daughter of God, a person of great worth. I hope she keeps this close to her heart as she grows and experiences life. It reminds me that I too am extraordinary in my own right and not just “An Ordinary Mom”.
Friday Memes
Brought to you by the children of “An Ordinary Mom”.
Making Facial Differences Normal: An Open Letter to JK Rowling
Previously published on The Mighty
When my son came into the world, he was two weeks overdue. There was a rush of pandemonium due to needing to be delivered by emergency C-section. I only saw a brief glimpse of him before they whisked him away as they worked on him. That first glimpse of him revealed prominently on his forehead, what looked like a brown thumbprint. His Apgar scores were low, he had a brown mark on his head. What was wrong with my baby??? They got him breathing and stable and several hours later I finally got to hold my baby and really look at him. The brown mark was a birthmark.
80% of all babies are born with some type of birthmark, some of which disappear over time. The medical community doesn’t know yet what causes the type of birthmarks that my son has (a hairy nevus). There is at least one doctor studying them, and hopefully, someday we will know what causes them and how to keep them from appearing. Until then I and so many other parents should say thank you for normalizing in a BIG way facial differences.
You see, when I took my new baby out into the world to meet the people in it, the reactions of the adults were interesting and in some cases predictable. Some thought it was an angel’s kiss or a mark of good fortune. I LOVED meeting these people. They were so kind to my baby. They wanted to touch and hold him because they believed that this baby was special.
Other adults thought it was a horrible curse and his face was disfigured for life. “When was the surgery scheduled to remove it?”, would often be the question. After much discussion with my son’s doctors, we decided to leave his birthmark alone until such time as he could decide if he wanted it to be removed or to stay. So far, he has opted for it to remain. It doesn’t bother him that it’s there. It’s just part of his face.
The biggest surprise came from the children’s reactions to my son’s birthmark. My son was born at the height of the popularity of the Harry Potter books. Every child’s first question would be to ask what my son’s birthmark was. After explaining it was a birthmark and what birthmarks were, every single child’s eyes would light up and they would say, “Oh! Like Harry Potter! That is so cool!” It happened over and over even though Harry Potter’s scar is not a birthmark. My son is now 11, and to my knowledge, he has never been teased about his birthmark, which has never faded. If it had been 30 years ago when I was a child, I would have been mercilessly teased and would have struggled with my self-image. But this has not been the case for him and I attribute that to you, JK Rowling.
Many children fall off a bike or a sled and need stitches, marring their face, sometimes for life. Or, some like my son, are born with their face looking a little different than what most people expect.
I need you, JK Rowling, to know what an impact for the better you have had, by simply writing incredible books about a child whose face was just a little different than all the others and how he was able to still save the world in spite of it. This gives our kids confidence in the way they look and helps them face another day of looking just a little bit different than everybody else. This is an amazing gift you have given to children all over the world and I cannot say THANK YOU enough!
