YET
Written by Guest Writer, Lisa Wallace
The doctors tried to pace themselves as they fired information at us. They felt we could not possibly absorb it all in one sitting, and they were right. However, we took golden nuggets of information with us from that session, and one of them was to never make assumptions about what Maddy could do. She would be able to do many things—just not at the same pace or in the same way that other children did. That became one of our mantras, and to this day we continue to reinforce the ‘I can’ mindset with her. I remember driving back from Vancouver that day feeling numb, looking in the rear-view mirror and smiling at 4-year old Maddy who was innocently staring back from her car seat, thinking two things: How do I protect this sweet little girl from the cruelties of the world and how do I learn everything I need to learn to give her the happiest life I can?
That drive was pivotal for me. I felt helpless but not hopeless. After learning that Maddy had cerebral palsy (the first of many diagnoses) and in the two-hour drive home, I went through a myriad of feelings – relief at getting a diagnosis, a sense of loss at the things Maddy may never get to experience, and fear. Fear that I may not be strong enough, brave enough, patient enough, wise enough to be her parent. How can you grieve something that you never had and something that has yet to happen? I realize now that I was mourning the loss of my narrow perception of normal. I had a picture of the experiences Maddy would have, the opportunities that would come her way, and how our family would be, and now that was changing. I needed to be flexible and shift my perspective. I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I just had to do the best with what I knew in each moment moving forward and do better each time I learned something.
It’s funny, once we pulled in to our driveway, life resumed. It had to. We had another child who needed our care and attention so regardless of the fog in our heads and the weight in our hearts, we had to figure out how to embrace this new path in a way that was going to support Maddy in being, doing, and becoming all that she dreamed of. Thriving rather than merely surviving.
In the years that followed, Maddy would receive a plethora of diagnoses: autism, osteopenia, scoliosis, anxiety, ADHD, diabetes. With each diagnosis, came a new pathway. A fork in the road that branched from where we were to where we could be headed – like a GPS rerouting. Always a choice. Embrace + Learn or Avoid + Deny. Logically, we knew which choice is healthier, however, with each path we have had to give ourselves a minute to grieve what we assumed would be and instead embrace the unknown. Leap of faith. Tenaciously learn everything we possibly could about each diagnosis so we could not only be strong supporters but fierce advocates. We continued to focus on what Maddy could do, however, as time went on, there became many things that were not in her wheelhouse so we added one tiny, powerful word to our repertoire…yet! This small, simple word contained a lot of positive power. It extended timelines and opened up opportunities that might have been closed to Maddy.
At 4, was she able to communicate clearly? No. Would she be able to? Yes, just not yet. At 8, was she reading like all the other kids in her class? No. Could she read? Yes, just not yet. At 9, did she have a best friend? No. Would she have a best friend? Yes, just not yet. At 16, did she have a job? No. Would she have a job? Yes, just not yet. Does she want to be married? Yes. Does she want kids? Yes. Her hopes and dreams are not limited by the labels of her diagnoses, they are powered by them. She turns obstacles into opportunities.
Adding ‘yet’ to our mindset meant we had to add patience to our approach as well. We needed patience but more importantly, we had to teach patience to Maddy because she wanted to experience everything that everyone else was experiencing in the moment but she had to be patient for her timeline to arrive.
I am constantly learning with and from Maddy. I am driven by and for her. Her kind, loving, caring, open-hearted spirit has remained constant. From the day we drove into Vancouver for our first appointment at Children’s Hospital, it has not wavered. What I didn’t know when we first started on this journey that I now know is that she has been a far greater teacher to me than I have been to her. I am stronger, braver, more patient, and smarter by the experiences I have had being her parent. And with that, I have learned to give myself grace for my imperfections.
We can do our best to anticipate, plan, and try to control the variables in our lives to lessen the impact when tough things come our way but in doing that we miss out on living in the present. As John Lennon said, “Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans.”
Written by Lisa Wallace & Inspired by Madeline Kean
Twitter: @LisaWallaceBC
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