As many of you follow me on Facebook, I’m sure you saw the post where I ranted about an old lady at the eye doctor who badgered me about having a second baby. If you don’t follow me on Facebook or haven’t seen the post a woman sat beside me at the eye doctor and asked about Wendy, we even talked about her being a special needs child, and she ended up saying I needed to have another child so Wendy would have a sibling because she “needed someone to play with”. I told her no, and she continued lecturing me. Needless to say it pissed me off. Not only have I recently struggled with the heartache of the thought of never having more children and never being pregnant again, I also just don’t like to be told what to do or how to raise my child. Zed and I decided on Wendy being an only child in Wendy’s best interest and our own. We always take what’s best for Wendy into consideration for any decision we make.
But with the bad, sometimes there’s good. My trip to the eye doctor wasn’t good, but I met someone there today who touched me and warmed my heart. He was an older man, probably around my grandmother’s age. He has grandchildren of his own. You could clearly tell there was something wrong with him. His legs were small and he walked with crutches. He told me he was born with osteogenesis imperfecta (aka, brittle bone syndrome). He said at one point, every time his mother changed his diaper, it broke another part of his leg. He told me, him being the disabled one, that he couldn’t imagine raising a differently abled child, that he had raised two normal children and that alone was hard. He said mothers of special needs children are the most amazing women in the world and deserved much more credit than they get. Every time I think about him saying that, it puts a smile on my face.