Lots of Thoughts

When I take the time to look at the posts in my account, I can't help but see the drafts sitting there, patiently waiting for me to complete my thoughts so that they can be shared with all of you.

I remember those drafts when I read the words of others, most often fellow mamas who are joining me in this journey. Most of them are like me in that this is a trip that wasn't planned, but they're pressing forward and taking time to enjoy the view. There are others, even, that have hearts full enough to welcome even more children in that share the something extra that has brought us all together in the first place.

Because of what we hold in common, we have a lot of the same thoughts, fears, joys, excitements, anxieties, questions.

I want to share some of what's going through my mind. And I will soon. Those drafts deserve as much.

But first, there's life. The doing that comes before the writing.

I really don't want to pack my family up and schlep us all across the country for 48 hours. Really. I don't know what I'm walking into. My hope is that the purpose outweighs the drama and that people recognize what is bringing us all together and respect it.

I'm doing this with the full knowledge that, next week, we will finally have Playette's IFSP. I don't even know what we're in store for then and I'm not prepared at all. Not one bit.

On top of that, I received an email the other day from the place where Playette gets her speech therapy. They were offering complimentary evaluations by an OT, PT, ST, and developmental-type professional. Me being me, I called to sign her up.

Shoot, why not? Maybe they can show us something we're missing? Maybe we'll get a pat on the back even? I mean, I think she's been doing great. Using the potty we bought on a whim a few times, walking more, picking up new signs quickly, and all that.

I wouldn't allow myself to think: Maybe it will be a waste of time? Maybe I'll walk out of there in tears, further reminded of what my child can't do?

Well, at least not until right now anyway.

I was upbeat about it even through the phone call I had with the coordinator of the event last night. I told her that if this wasn't intended for "people like us" then she should let me know right away and we'd cancel the appointment. If it's only for parents who are wondering about whether or not their child may have delays and they need assistance in knowing what those may be, then she should tell me because we're already 100% certain that my daughter has 47 chromosomes, but what we need is a fresh perspective that's been pretty hard to find in this small town. So could she give me that? Could 30 minutes with strangers give me what I was lacking?

I think I may have scared her a little with my bluntness. We still have the appointment, but I won't get my hopes up too high.

She had asked if they could see previously completed evaluations and I said no, that I didn't want someone's impression of my child 8 months ago to influence what they think next Saturday.

You know what I imagine that phone call felt kinda like? Like when you know someone doesn't want you somewhere, but they don't have the balls/right to tell you no, so you go/stay and have a great time.

Like when we used to live in Texas when I was a little girl. I remember these men standing on the side of the road on Sunday mornings when we'd be driving home from church. My mother would pull over, because they were waving cars to do just that. And then those men would get all flustered and she would laugh and drive off while telling me after I asked what happened that those men were recruiting for the KKK.

I know it's not as serious as that, but that's honestly what came to my mind.

You sent us an invitation, we're coming to the party.

If it was an accident? I bet you'll do a better job of editing your guest list next time, huh?

Which reminds me of something that's been bothering me all day. I mean really has my heart hurting in that ball-in-the-pit-of-my-stomach kind of way. Which makes no literal sense, but you know what I mean.

I read today about a little girl. So pretty, so sweet in the way that her mother describes her. Well, she's being treated unfairly in an organization in which she's a part. An organization well known for empowering young girls. They're not letting her participate with the rest of the girls her age, which is something that she's very able to do. They've turned it into a clique that she's not a part of. And I'm angry about it. At best, they treat her patronizingly. And this sweet girl knows it.

I've mentioned this before: I can tell my daughter what it's like to be a woman and have to deal with what comes along with that. I can tell my daughter about some of what she'll face as a Black woman, even. But I don't have anything that's considered a disability. I don't know what that's like. And I don't know if being a woman and/or being Black is going to make that even harder for her.

I don't know what to do. I don't have an answer other than to want to wish it away.

But I know enough to be angry at how unfair it all is. And I know to write and try to express how I'm feeling. And I know enough to let that fellow journey-trekking mama know that I care.

I want to tell my baby girl, and hers too, whatever will allow them to come to the party anyway and have the time of their lives. I want them to drive off laughing while they wait for the other people to get over themselves and learn that we're all in this together.