Welcome to Holland, by Emily Perl Kingsley

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, 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. "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 some horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place!

So you must go out and buy a new guidebook. And you must learn a whole new language. and you will meet a whole new group of people you never would have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there awhile and you catch your breath, you look around, and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills! Holland has tulips...and even Rembrandts!

But everyone else 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 the your life you will say, "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

The pain of that is real, and the loss of that dream is a very significant one.

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.