Today is my birthday.
Sixty-one years ago on September 8, I was born missing 2 legs and one
arm. The doctors told my parents that my
internal organs were probably reversed and that I was blind and deaf. They predicted quickly that I would not live. Then, after I was still alive after an entire
month in the hospital, they recommended that I be put in a home. Thankfully, doctor advice has advanced significantly
since 1954.
It was a lot to consider for my 19-year-old, shell-shocked
parents. Despite the advice and
predictions, however, they took me home.
They were given no instructions or playbook on how to raise a disabled child. Since they truly had no clue what to do, they
just acted like I was a “normal” baby. I
asked my mom once about their “strategy.”
She said, “We really didn’t have one.
When you were a few months old, we just put you on the floor to see what
you would do, and you took off.” Sounds
a lot like an experiment to me!
Turns out, as a kid I was given no special considerations because
of my disability. I simply had a very
ordinary life with the very same expectations as a child with 4 limbs. I lived with the mantra spoken early by my dad,
“Try it first and if you need help, then ask.” I’m told that I did have a bit of a stubborn
streak, so sometimes I would intentionally NOT ask for help, just because. In hindsight, it was an almost flawless
strategy which inadvertently helped me reach my full potential!
There have definitely been, and continue to be, highs and lows on
my journey. Indeed there were many times
when I marveled wow and questioned why.
But… today is my birthday, a day that holds special significance
to me every year. I am reminded of my
frightened, yet strong, parents, grandparents and extended family. I am so thankful that I was not put in a
home. I am grateful for my full life and
that my one arm is still strong. I have
proven convincingly that the doctors were wrong in 1954. I do like to prove a point.
Happy Birthday to Me!
