Emotions
I don't know how other parents of special needs children feel, but the other day I was watching Mia in her gait trainer, and I thought: "I'm sad." I realized that I am sad most of the time.
Now, this is not depression. Nor is it crippling in a way that I can't function. Nor is it even the overriding emotion I feel. I can be happy, excited, angry - but behind it all is sadness. I can't get past it.
This is not self-pity, either. I know that Mia's injury affects Mia a lot more than it does me, and I should just get over it. She is happy most of the time, and although she can't do a lot, she works hard and tries and enjoys life and loves going to school and is fascinated by everything. Yes, she can't do a lot, but I don't think she realizes how disabled she is and how hard she has to work to be independent. She has a long way to go and we're still very confident that she will be a functional adult. The day-to-day activities are tough, but we're in this for the long haul, so we can be patient.
I'm still sad. It's not a good feeling. I take her to school and all the other kids are running around talking (not well, but still). She's in her wheelchair and says very little. I watch her struggling to sit up, and even though she has made a lot of progress in that area, she still has trouble. I hear her in the morning when she wakes up and think that she should be coming into our bedroom on her own and waking us up. All the little things that "normal" three-year-olds should do that she can't do. She doesn't really know any better, and like I said, she's trying, but whenever I look at her, I'm sad. I'm happy at the same time, because she was this close to dying, but I'm still sad.
It's a strange way to live, and I don't know if it's common. I go out sometimes when we can get a babysitter, Krys and I take turns taking the day off and I go out without the kids, I'm taking a short vacation this weekend, and I enjoy myself when I'm not with the kids (I love them, but they wear me out!), but always, in the back of mind, I'm thinking about Mia and how wonderful she is and how I wish she could enjoy life more. She wants to do so much, I can tell, and occasionally I think she realizes that she could be doing more and she struggles to get something or express something. I'm very happy that she is alive and her personality wasn't affected by the accident, but I'm still sad. I have a feeling it will be this way for the rest of my life. Bizarre.
Now, this is not depression. Nor is it crippling in a way that I can't function. Nor is it even the overriding emotion I feel. I can be happy, excited, angry - but behind it all is sadness. I can't get past it.
This is not self-pity, either. I know that Mia's injury affects Mia a lot more than it does me, and I should just get over it. She is happy most of the time, and although she can't do a lot, she works hard and tries and enjoys life and loves going to school and is fascinated by everything. Yes, she can't do a lot, but I don't think she realizes how disabled she is and how hard she has to work to be independent. She has a long way to go and we're still very confident that she will be a functional adult. The day-to-day activities are tough, but we're in this for the long haul, so we can be patient.
I'm still sad. It's not a good feeling. I take her to school and all the other kids are running around talking (not well, but still). She's in her wheelchair and says very little. I watch her struggling to sit up, and even though she has made a lot of progress in that area, she still has trouble. I hear her in the morning when she wakes up and think that she should be coming into our bedroom on her own and waking us up. All the little things that "normal" three-year-olds should do that she can't do. She doesn't really know any better, and like I said, she's trying, but whenever I look at her, I'm sad. I'm happy at the same time, because she was this close to dying, but I'm still sad.
It's a strange way to live, and I don't know if it's common. I go out sometimes when we can get a babysitter, Krys and I take turns taking the day off and I go out without the kids, I'm taking a short vacation this weekend, and I enjoy myself when I'm not with the kids (I love them, but they wear me out!), but always, in the back of mind, I'm thinking about Mia and how wonderful she is and how I wish she could enjoy life more. She wants to do so much, I can tell, and occasionally I think she realizes that she could be doing more and she struggles to get something or express something. I'm very happy that she is alive and her personality wasn't affected by the accident, but I'm still sad. I have a feeling it will be this way for the rest of my life. Bizarre.
posted by Greg at
4:05 PM
7 Comments:
I understand you. I am sure I would be the same way.
By
ymelendez, at 11/10/05 10:32 PM
Greg I have to say that you are a great inspiration to me. Whenever a student drives me crazy I think about you and how a teacher might think of Mia and I am constantly reminded that I need always think about the parents. I might be strange because no other teacher will think this way, but that is just how and what I think about. Thank you for your constant post that keeps us up to date on how Mia is doing
By
Mrs Lefty, at 12/10/05 8:38 PM
Thanks, Kelly. I know you're having issues too, and I can't imagine dealing with evil children while going through what you're going through. One thing I want to do as a parent is work really closely with teachers. When I was teaching I loved when the parents came in and were involved with their kids' education.
By
Greg, at 12/10/05 10:26 PM
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
By
Roxy, at 13/10/05 11:23 AM
Greg - I'm so very sorry. Not in that Oh-I-feel-so-sorry-for-them way, just the Life-is-unfair-and-while-we-see-the-
blessings-sometimes-it-hurts
kind of way.
I can only imagine and it makes me sad too. She is such a beautiful girl - so bright and such a joy. Thank you for sharing that post.
By
Roxy, at 13/10/05 11:23 AM
I know just how you feel.
My daughter, who is 8, has Aspergers, which is similar to high functioning Autism. She is brilliant, litterally, and wonderful - she is also always just a little bit off. Socially, she just doesn't get that she needs to give other people space or listen to other's thoughts and ideas. I find myself very sad very often while watching her with typical kids, mourning the loss of the "normal" child I held on the day she was born. I find that sometimes, too often in fact, this sadness manifests itself as anger toward her disability and utlimately toward her. I yell way too much about things that she can't help.
Now that my two year old has been diagnosed as at risk for Autism and I've been advised to contact DDD, I find myself completely overwhelmed with not only grief and sadness, but anger at myself for hurting both of my children by passing these defective genes onto them.
It is hard to love someone as much as we love our kids and watch them hurt. You seem to be dealing with it really well - just remember that it is OK to be sad.
By
Anonymous, at 14/10/05 4:15 PM
Thanks, Squint. I appreciate your thoughts. Hang in there - we can both do it.
By
Greg, at 17/10/05 7:25 PM
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