PARENTING
What If You Planted Apples and Got Oranges
A Mother’s Journey of Having a Child With Special Abilities
You find out you are having a baby and you are overjoyed.
You spread that excitement to your family and your friends. You celebrate. Your girlfriends throw you a shower, you bake a cake to reveal the gender of your child, you go shopping for baby clothes with your mother-in-law. The nursery is decked with lime green curtains and pink lace while Winnie the Pooh sits atop the flower-stenciled dresser.
Then you prepare yourself. Classical music becomes your new genre, salads become your best friend, and you acquire a new taste for poetry (some people call these nursery rhymes). Ceremonial hot baths become your thing. You light lavender-scented candles, drop a Lush peachy bath bomb, and sprinkle rose petals to make you feel special. Anything to wash away the stress for baby’s sake.
When the baby arrives, everything moves at a faster pace. Fatigue haunts you and sleep betrays you. Your house turns upside down and reeks of poopy diaper .
Yet, in the midst of the chaos of taking care of an infant, you see your baby.
She is the apple of your eye. Every “goo-goo” releases butterflies in your tummy, every smile lights up the room, and every twitch in her cheeks causes giggles. You count her fingers to make sure she has them all. You check her toes and see if they curl. You see a glimpse of your mom in her eyes, and her red curls remind you of her dad. She is beautiful. She is perfect. And she makes the calamities of child rearing worth it.
Then one day, you notice something different.
Perhaps you noticed it when she didn’t like hugs at 3 months, or couldn’t crawl when she was 10 months. Perhaps when she entered pre-school, she was way more energetic than her classmates. Or maybe, like me, you noticed it during high school.
But you know this is not “normal.”
Or were you one of those that never noticed it at all? Her teacher dropped a hint during the last parent-teacher conference. You overheard your mother crying to her sister, thinking she was complaining about someone else’s child.
But the day comes when your eyes are opened, when it was slapped in your face. And you cannot believe it. You cannot accept it.
Your migraine starts throbbing and your stomach churns. You are angry at your child’s teacher and you are angry at your mother, and you blame your husband for his faulty genes. A dissertation of arguments form in your mind. You defy them. It can’t be. They are wrong!
Then, you fall into a heap of tears and ask yourself, how could I be so blind not to have seen this?
I feel you.
I’ve been there.
You are not alone.
Wait. Let me throw some light into this.
You may see your child in a different light right now, but your child is still the same adorable, vivacious, little princess you had before. She hasn’t changed.
You have.
You see your child in a new angle and the difference is, you thought you were planting apples, but you got oranges. And oranges are just as wonderful in bringing sunshine into your life.
Now that you know your child has some special abilities, you are more equipped to face the challenges. The path ahead is clearer and you can map out a strategy that will steer you onto the right direction, not one that will swerve you towards a cliff. You can set out to demystify this special ability with a plan of action that will armor you to tackle any hurdle you and your child will face in the future. You will be able to enlist support from various appropriate resources because your new knowledge of your child will dictate her unique needs.
You got this.
You can do this.
Here are the Eight Stages of Grief Parents of Children with Special Abilities Face. Learn how to parent a child with special abilities.
Susie Antonia is the publisher of The Good Apple, for parents of children with special abilities. Avid storyteller. Educator. Healing humour. For heartwarming stories, join her tribe.
