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Inspirational Stories

>To You, My Sisters

>by Maureen K. Higgins - submitted by Tricia Luker

>

>Many of you I have never even met face to face, but I've searched

>you out

>every day. I've looked for you on the Internet, on playgrounds and

>in grocery

>stores.

>

>I've become an expert at identifying you. You are well worn. You are

>stronger

>than you ever wanted to be. Your words ring experience, experience

>you culled

>with your very heart and soul. You are compassionate beyond the

>expectations

>of this world. You are my " sisters. "

>

>Yes, you and I, my friend, are sisters in a sorority. A very elite

>sorority.

>We are special. Just like any other sorority, we were chosen to be

>members.

>Some of us were invited to join immediately, some not for months or

>even years.

>Some of us even tried to refuse membership, but to no avail.

>

>We were initiated in neurologist's offices and NICU units, in

>obstetrician's

>offices, in emergency rooms, and during ultrasounds. We were

>initiated with

>somber telephone calls, consultations, evaluations, blood tests, x-

>rays, MRI

>films, and heart surgeries.

>

>All of us have one thing in common. One day things were fine. We

>were

>pregnant, or we had just given birth, or we were nursing our

>newborn, or we were

>playing with our toddler. Yes, one minute everything was fine. Then,

>whether it

>happened in an instant, as it often does, or over the course of a

>few weeks or

>months, our entire lives changed. Something wasn't quite right. Then

>we found

>ourselves mothers of children with special needs.

>

>We are united, we sisters, regardless of the diversity of our

>children's

>special needs. Some of our children undergo chemotherapy. Some need

>respirators

>and ventilators. Some are unable to talk, some are unable to walk.

>Some eat

>through feeding tubes. Some live in a different world. We do not

>discriminate

>against those mothers whose children's needs are not as " special " as

>our child's.

>We have mutual respect and empathy for all the women who walk in our

>shoes.

>

>We are knowledgeable. We have educated ourselves with whatever

>materials we

>could find. We know " the " specialists in the field. We know " the "

>neurologists,

> " the " hospitals, " the " wonder drugs, " the " treatments. We know " the "

>tests

>that need to be done, we know " the " degenerative and progressive

>diseases and we

>hold our breath while our children are tested for them. Without

>formal

>education, we could become board certified in neurology,

>endocrinology, and

>pschylogy.

>

>We have taken on our insurance companies and school boards to get

>what our

>children need to survive, and to flourish. We have prevailed upon

>the State to

>include augmentative communication devices in special education

>classes and

>mainstream schools for our children with cerebral palsy. We have

>labored to prove

>to insurance companies the medical necessity of gait trainers and

>other

>adaptive equipment for our children with spinal cord defects. We

>have sued

>municipalities to have our children properly classified so they

>could receive

>education and evaluation commensurate with their diagnosis. We have

>learned to deal

>with the rest of the world, even if that means walking away from it.

>

>We have tolerated scorn in supermarkets during " tantrums " and

>gritted our

>teeth while discipline was advocated by the person behind us on

>line. We have

>tolerated inane suggestions and home remedies from well-meaning

>strangers. We

>have tolerated mothers of children without special needs complaining

>about

>chicken pox and ear infections. We have learned that many of our

>closest friends

>can't understand what it's like to be in our sorority, and don't

>even want to

>try.

>

>We have our own personal copies of Perl Kingsley's " A Trip To

>Holland "

>and Erma Bombeck's " The Special Mother " . We keep them by our bedside

>and read

>and reread them during our toughest hours. We have coped with

>holidays. We

>have found ways to get our physically handicapped children to the

>neighbors'

>front doors on Halloween, and we have found ways to help our deaf

>children form

>the words, " trick or treat. " We have accepted that our children with

>sensory

>dysfunction will never wear velvet or lace on Christmas. We have

>painted a canvas

>of lights and a blazing Yule log with our words for our blind

>children. We

>have pureed turkey on Thanksgiving. We have bought white chocolate

>bunnies for

>Easter. And all the while, we have tried to create a festive

>atmosphere for the

>rest of our family. We've gotten up every morning since our journey

>began

>wondering how we'd make it through another day, and gone to bed

>every evening not

>sure how we did it.

>

>We've mourned the fact that we never got to relax and sip red wine

>in Italy.

>We've mourned the fact that our trip to Holland has required much

>more baggage

>than we ever imagined when we first visited the travel agent. And

>we've

>mourned because we left for the airport without most of the things

>we needed for

>the trip.

>

>But we, sisters, we keep the faith always. We never stop believing.

>Our love

>for our special children and our belief in all that they will

>achieve in life

>knows no bounds. We dream of them scoring touchdowns and extra

>points and home

>runs.

>

>We visualize them running sprints and marathons. We dream of them

>planting

>vegetable seeds, riding horses and chopping down trees. We hear

>their angelic

>voices singing Christmas carols. We see their palettes smeared with

>watercolors,

>and their fingers flying over ivory keys in a concert hall. We are

>amazed at

>the grace of their pirouettes. We never, never stop believing in all

>they will

>accomplish as they pass through this world.

>

>But in the meantime, my sisters, the most important thing we do, is

>hold

>tight to their little hands as together, we special mothers and our

>special

>children, reach for the stars.

>

>

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  • 9 months later...

I saw this on another listserve last week and wanted to type it in, just in

case some of you didnt get the forward.

This is beautifully written and really says it all.

Written by Maureen K. Higgins.

Many of you I have never even met face to face, but I have searched you out

every day. I've looked for you on the internet, on playgrounds and in

grocery stores. I've become an expert at identifying you. You are well

worn. You are stronger than you ever wanted to be. Your words ring

experience, experience you have culled with your very heart and soul. You

are compassionate beyond expectations of this world. You are my " sisters " .

Yes, you and I, my friend, are sisters in a sorority. A very elite

sorority. We are special. Just like any other sorority, we were chosen to

be members. Some of us were invited to join immediately, some not for

months or even years. Some of us even tried to refuse membership, but to no

avail.

We were initiated in neurologists' offices, NICU units, obstetricians

offices, in emergency rooms, and during ultra sounds. We were initited with

somber telephone calls, consultations, evaluations, blood tests, x-rays, MRI

films, and heart surgeries.

All of us have one thing in common, one day things were fine. We were

pregnant, or we had just given birth, or we were nursing our newborn, or we

were playing with our toddler. Yes, one minute everything was fine. Then,

whether it happened in an instant, as it often does, or over the course of a

few weeks or months, our entire lives changed. Something wasnt quite

right....Then we found ourselves mothers of children with special needs.

We are united, we sisters, regardless of the diversity of our childs special

needs. Some of our children undergo chemotherapy. Some need respirators

and ventilators. Some are unable to talk, some are unable to walk. Some

eat through feeding tubes. Some live in a different world. We do not

discriminate against those mothers whose childrens needs are not as

" special " as our childs. We have mutual respect and empathy. For all the

women who walk in our shoes.

We are knowledgeable. We have educated ourselves with whatever materials we

could find. We know " the " specialists in the field. We know " the "

neurologist, " the " hosptital, " the " wonder drugs, " the " treatments. We know

" the " tests that need to be done, we know " the " degenerative and progressive

diseases, and we hold our breath while our children are being tested for

them. Without formal education, we could become board certified in

neurology, endocrinology, and physiatry.

We have taken on our insurance companies and school boards to get what we

need for our children to survive, and to flourish. We have prevailed upon

the State, to include augmentative communication devices and special

education classes and mainstream schools for our children with cerebral

palsy. We have laboured to prove to insurance companies the medical

necessity of gait trainers and other adaptive equipment for our children

with spinal cord defects. We have sued municipalities to have our children

properly classified so they could recieve education and evaluation

commensurate with their diagnosis.

We have learned to deal with the rest of the world, even if that means

walking away from it. We have tolerated scorn in supermarkets during

" tantrums " and gritted our teeth while discipline was advocated by the

person behind us in line. We have tolerated inane suggestions and home

remedies from well-meaning strangers. We have tolerated mothers without

special needs complaining about chicken pox and ear infections. We have

learned that many of our closest friends cant understand what its like to be

in our sorority, and dont even want to try.

We have our own personal copies of Perl Kingsley's " A Trip to Holland "

and Erma Bombecks " The Special Mother " . We keep them by our bedside and

reread them during our toughest hours.

We have coped with holidays. We have found ways to get our physically

handicapped children to the neighbors front doors on Halloween, and we have

found ways to help our deaf children form the words, " trick or treat " . We

have accepted that our children with sensory dysfunction will never wear

velvet or lace on Christmas. We have painted a canvas of lights and a

blazing yule log with our words for our blind children. We have pureed

turkey on Thanksgiving. We have bought white chocolate bunnies for Easter.

And all the while, we have tried to create a festive atmosphere for the rest

of our family.

We have gotten up every morning since our journey began wondering if we'd

make it through another day, and gone to bed every evening not sure how we

did it.

We've mourned the fact that we never got to relax and sip red wine in Italy.

We've mourned the fact that our trip to Holland has required much more

baggage than we ever imagined when we first visited the travel agent. And

we've mourned because we left for the airport without most of the things we

needed for the trip.

But we, sisters, we keep the faith always. We never stop believing. Our

love for our special children and our belief in all that they will achieve

in life knows no bounds. We dream of them scoring touchdowns and extra

points and homeruns. We visualize them running sprints and marathons. We

dream of them planting vegetable seeds, riding horses and chopping down

trees. We hear their

angelic voices singing Christmas carols. We see their palettes smeared with

water colors, and their fingers flying over ivory keys in a concert hall.

We are amazed at the grace of their pirouettes. We never, never stop

believing in all they will accomplish as they pass through this world.

But in the meantime, my sisters, the most important thing we do, is hold

tight to their little hands, as together, we special mothers and our special

children, reach for the stars.

Re: Olivia's biker girl picture

> hi bridgette,

>

> i used to have lucas' pictures on the cast site, but they were

> too big (as in file size). i decided to take them off to make

> room for other people and concentrate on my own website.

> perhaps i should ask monica to make mine smaller and put them

> back up on the cast site. or if given a bit of time, i could

> do it as well.

>

> you could send the new mom to look at my family photo page here:

>

> http://homepage.mac.com/desheaharris/PhotoAlbum5.html

>

> that's dedicated to all the scoliosis related pictures. i did

> put this website as a link under links/stories in the cast site.

>

> that's too bad about brooke being sick! i hate the

> temperature on and off for days. ruby had something like that

> for this past week. i kept wondering what it could possibly

> be. i'm hoping for some teeth soon so i can blame it on that.

> it seems like lucas always has a runny nose but thankfully

> nothing more (knock on wood). i'm probably going to take him

> to the pediatrician the day before we leave to go to erie just

> to check him out -- no upper respiratory problems is what i'm

> keeping my finger crossed for. i look forward to seeing you

> soon. just a week and a half! our flights have already been

> booked with pilots from angelflight. even if the weather is

> iffy, one of the pilots said that he can take us both ways

> since he has a plane with de-icing capability. it would be a

> straight shot as well versus a layover in new york. i'm just

> happy that we're able to do these trips with no added

> financial burden.

>

> deshea

>

>

>

>

>

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Thank you .

Gail

Re: Olivia's biker girl picture> hi bridgette,>> i used to have lucas' pictures on the cast site, but they were> too big (as in file size). i decided to take them off to make> room for other people and concentrate on my own website.> perhaps i should ask monica to make mine smaller and put them> back up on the cast site. or if given a bit of time, i could> do it as well.>> you could send the new mom to look at my family photo page here:>> http://homepage.mac.com/desheaharris/PhotoAlbum5.html>> that's dedicated to all the scoliosis related pictures. i did> put this website as a link under links/stories in the cast site.>> that's too bad about brooke being sick! i hate the> temperature on and off for days. ruby had something like that> for this past week. i kept wondering what it could possibly> be. i'm hoping for some teeth soon so i can blame it on that.> it seems like lucas always has a runny nose but thankfully> nothing more (knock on wood). i'm probably going to take him> to the pediatrician the day before we leave to go to erie just> to check him out -- no upper respiratory problems is what i'm> keeping my finger crossed for. i look forward to seeing you> soon. just a week and a half! our flights have already been> booked with pilots from angelflight. even if the weather is> iffy, one of the pilots said that he can take us both ways> since he has a plane with de-icing capability. it would be a> straight shot as well versus a layover in new york. i'm just> happy that we're able to do these trips with no added> financial burden.>> deshea>>>>>

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  • 3 months later...
Guest guest

[P2P-CO] To You, My Sisters

I received this message from another listserv and thought I would

pass it along, I had never seen it before but thought it was

wonderful.

Marie,mom to Liam,16 months,DS

Lakewood

To You, My Sisters

© Maureen K. Higgins

Many of you I have never even met face to face, but I've searched you

out every day. I've looked for you on the internet, on playgrounds

and in grocery stores. I've become an expert at identifying you. You

are well worn. You are stronger than you ever wanted to be. Your

words ring experience, experience you culled with your very heart and

soul. You are compassionate beyond the expectations of this world.

You are my " sisters. "

Yes, you and I, my friend, are sisters in a sorority. A very elite

sorority. We are special. Just like any other sorority, we were

chosen to be members. Some of us were invited to join immediately,

some not for months or even years. Some of us even tried to refuse

membership, but to no avail.

We were initiated in neurologist's offices and NICU units, in

obstetrician's offices, in emergency rooms, and during ultrasounds.

We were initiated with somber telephone calls, consultations,

evaluations, blood tests, x-rays, MRI films, and heart surgeries.

All of us have one thing in common. One day things were fine. We were

pregnant, or we had just given birth, or we were nursing our newborn,

or we were playing with our toddler. Yes, one minute everything was

fine. Then, whether it happened in an instant, as it often does, or

over the course of a few weeks or months, our entire lives changed.

Something wasn't quite right. Then we found ourselves mothers of

children with special needs.

We are united, we sisters, regardless of the diversity of our

children's special needs. Some of our children ungergo chemotherapy.

Some need respirators and ventilators. Some are unable to talk, some

are unable to walk. Some eat through feeding tubes. Some live in a

different world. We do not discriminate against those mothers whose

children's needs are not as " special " as our child's. We have mutual

respect and empathy for all the women who walk in our shoes.

We are knowledgeable. We have educated ourselves with whatever

materials we could find. We know " the " specialists in the field. We

know " the " neurologists, " the " hospitals, " the " wonder drugs, " the "

treatments. We know " the " tests that need to be done, we know " the "

degenerative and progressive diseases and we hold our breath while

our children are tested for them. Without formal education, we could

become board certified in neurology, endocrinology, and physiatry.

We have taken on our insurance companies and school boards to get

what our children need to survive, and to flourish. We have prevailed

upon the State to include augmentative communication devices in

special education classes and mainstream schools for our children

with cerebral palsy. We have labored to prove to insurance companies

the medical necessity of gait trainers and other adaptive equipment

for our children with spinal cord defects. We have sued

municipalities to have our children properly classified so they could

receive education and evaluation commensurate with their diagnosis.

We have learned to deal with the rest of the world, even if that

means walking away from it. We have tolerated scorn in supermarkets

during " tantrums " and gritted our teeth while discipline was

advocated by the person behind us on line. We have tolerated inane

suggestions and home remedies from well-meaning strangers. We have

tolerated mothers of children without special needs complaining about

chicken pox and ear infections. We have learned that many of our

closest friends can't understand what it's like to be in our

sorority, and don't even want to try.

We have our own personal copies of Perl Kingsley's " A Trip To

Holland " and Erma Bombeck's " The Special Mother. " We keep them by our

bedside and read and reread them during our toughest hours.

We have coped with holidays. We have found ways to get our physically

handicapped children to the neighbors' front doors on Halloween, and

we have found ways to help our deaf children form the words, " trick

or treat. " We have accepted that our children with sensory

dysfunction will never wear velvet or lace on Christmas. We have

painted a canvas of lights and a blazing yule log with our words for

our blind children. We have pureed turkey on Thanksgiving. We have

bought white chocolate bunnies for Easter. And all the while, we have

tried to create a festive atmosphere for the rest of our family.

We've gotten up every morning since our journey began wondering how

we'd make it through another day, and gone to bed every evening not

sure how we did it.

We've mourned the fact that we never got to relax and sip red wine in

Italy. We've mourned the fact that our trip to Holland has required

much more baggage than we ever imagined when we first visited the

travel agent. And we've mourned because we left for the airport

without most of the things we needed for the trip.

But we, sisters, we keep the faith always. We never stop believing.

Our love for our special children and our belief in all that they

will achieve in life knows no bounds. We dream of them scoring

touchdowns and extra points and home runs. We visualize them running

sprints and marathons. We dream of them planting vegetable seeds,

riding horses and chopping down trees. We hear their angelic voices

singing Christmas carols. We see their palettes smeared with

watercolors, and their fingers flying over ivory keys in a concert

hall. We are amazed at the grace of their pirouettes. We never, never

stop believing in all they will accomplish as they pass through this

world.

But in the meantime, my sisters, the most important thing we do, is

hold tight to their little hands as together, we special mothers and

our special children, reach for the stars

** Selectively quote the message you are replying to, do not repost it. **

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