A Trip to Holland

I am a member of 2 closed groups on Facebook. One is for Moms of Triplets that were born in 2013 and the other is a Discussion Group for Infantile Spasms. The triplet moms group has been awesome. I learn so much from them and it's a great place to go to vent, ask questions, request prayers or support or just talk about something funny that happened. We all had preemies, some earlier than others, but all the moms in the group understand about development, adjusted ages, the NICU and the other things that come along with prematurity. I just recently joined the IS group so I don't have much experience with that group yet, and am a little nervous because there are a lot of scary stories out there. I saw a post in this group recently that talked about this little poem called "Welcome to Holland". I read it and was really touched. Here it is...

WELCOME TO HOLLAND

by
Emily Perl Kingsley.

c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved
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 guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas 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 guide books. 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 a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
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 for 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, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very, 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.


I can actually relate this to several things from the past year or so. First, finding out I was having triplets. Second, having preemies/NICU babies and now third is Ryan's IS diagnosis. I'm sure you can relate this poem to something in your life because unfortunately everyone has some cross to bear or something unexpected and hard that has happened to them. My life is very, very different from what I thought it would be.

Although I accepted the fact we were going to have triplets at some point during my pregnancy, I finally started "enjoying Holland" about having triplets once they were born and I fell in love with each of them.

I started "enjoying Holland" about having preemies/NICU babies once I got into my routine with the NICU and felt comfortable with my nurses and with my babies. I especially got to "enjoy Holland" once they were thriving and then when they got discharged from the NICU. I love being able to tell people that these gorgeous, healthy babies are 27 weekers that spent more than 2 months in the NICU. It's great to see the surprised look on people's faces when they hear that. Several medical professionals have mentioned that my babies don't look like preemies...whatever that means...but I love hearing it.

I'm not quite to the point where I am "enjoying Holland" about Ryan's IS diagnosis. I am mourning Italy. I'm trying to get there and praying constantly throughout the day but am just not there. I think this one will take some time. I think I got too positive too quickly and am now feeling a little disappointed with the lack of developmental progress. I keep hoping for and praying for a miracle and want that miracle to come true so badly. Only time will tell how Ryan will turn out and I need to become a big tulip fan in the meantime.

Tulips from the Baptism Luncheon