Welcome to Our House - The Analogy ©

Having a baby is special. For some, it’s a lifelong dream, for others, a wonderful surprise. Either way, many of us have thought about taking this journey and whether it’s planned or a pleasant surprise, we all have preconceived ideas about what our child will look and be like. But what if it isn’t what we planned or expected? This is a short story I have written for parents who have or are expecting an exceptionally special child.

Welcome to our House – An analogy

After many months of dreaming, you finally decide it’s time. You are going to build that perfect house of your dreams. You have saved and saved, and now it’s time to put your plan into action. You find a wonderful, perfect piece of land in the city. It’s exactly what you are looking for – because it’s the plan that everyone talks about. You envision the all brick house sitting on luscious green grass, surrounded by a white picket fence. Inside is a marble foyer leading into a family room with beautiful oak hardwood floors. Granite lines the kitchen counter tops and there is an island sink in the middle. Upstairs has four perfect bedrooms and the master bedroom has an ensuite bathroom and an enormous walk-in closet, of course. It’s truly a dream come true, and it’s only a matter of time. You purchase the land and think to yourself, in nine short months, you will have it all.

But suddenly your agent calls to tell you, the land is not properly zoned, and the city has not approved it for building your perfect home. They have instead, given you land in the country, where an old country home sits. You are absolutely devastated, your dreams vanishing right before your eyes. You know you can’t back out now, you need a place to live, and despite it not being what you wanted, you know that somehow you will manage and that you can continue on.

You tell everyone what has happened, and everyone is disappointed, some even offering their condolences. You know that everyone else has a nice city home, and that was what you had planned, but you have to come to terms with the fact that you must learn to live in the country.

You go to see the property every month until closing and something funny happens. You start to fall in love with the place. The air is fresh, it’s peaceful and serene. There’s a pond on the land, and the house, though not a new all brick home, is quaint, and has lots of hidden potential. You soon realize it’s not a awful place, it’s just a different place. It’s slower paced than the city, less noisy and flamboyant, but it’s beautiful none the less. And in the process, you soon realize you may even get to meet some new and wonderful neighbours.

Its closing day and you suddenly find yourself full of anticipation, but you are still a little worried. After all, it isn’t what you had originally hoped for, and the house may need some repairs. But you are determined to accept it, and tackle everything one step at a time. You open the front door, and suddenly you are thrilled with what you see. The house is lovely, and has lots of character. The rooms are smaller but it’s decorated with beautiful attention and detail. The kitchen has marble instead of granite, and the bathroom has a soaker tub instead of a Jacuzzi. There isn’t a walk-in closet in sight, but the rooms all come with an indescribable view. Somehow, you just know that it was always meant to be and that this is now home.

This is my analogy of what it will be like for people who discover that they will be caring for a baby with Down syndrome. For us, it is not a terrible place to be, it is a journey full of surprises, milestones and discovery like any other child. And as the story suggests, sometimes it’s only a matter of ‘point of view’, and surprisingly, once you have been there, you don’t want to be anywhere else. The journey, like all others doesn’t come without some bumps in the road, but once you find your way, it’s all about the place you discovered, in most cases - quite by random chance
Author: Sandi Graham-McWade, Copyright
©

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Sunday, March 7, 2010

My Journal - Week 29 (07Mar10)

I think I can, I think I can.... wake the baby up that is....

This morning, I had an "Ah ha!" moment.  Do you recall me saying sometime ago that there was something between 4:30 and 5:00 am waking Hunter up almost everyday for a period of time?  Well, after some coincidental snoring from Daddy that woke me up this morning, I finally have discovered what wakes Hunter on occasion - and no, it wasn't Daddy's snore but it was probably the prelude to what actually woke him.  As I was lying there, startled from the loud snore, I waited to see if the snore woke the baby.  Nope, it was all good or so I thought.  Approximately one minute later, there it was - the loudest blaring horn (in the distance) a train could make at exactly 4:36 am.  Not just one toot, or even two.  Kind of one long blast, one after another.  Within seconds the baby started stirring, and then the clickity clack of the train wheels rolling along down the tracks, could be heard in our "so quiet you could hear a pin drop" home.  I looked at the clock - yep, 4:36 am.  And I was hoping Hunter would settle himself back down to sleep, but no such luck.  I had to laugh, even though I was kind of upset.  I never realized how loud the train sounds when there isn't anything else going on (like sleep....).  Also, after all the years of living near trains throughout my life, I have simply grown accustomed to the sounds, in fact I find the train soothing to me, and I would miss it if it were not there.  But having said that, now that we have a baby, I am not so happy about the horn.  What's more confusing is, where we live, there is absolutely no reason whatsoever for the engineer/conductor to blow his horn!  There isn't a level crossing anywhere around.  Where this train goes by, it goes over a road on a train bridge, and the next major streets over in any direction this same train goes by those streets via train bridge.  I can't see the logical reason for blowing the horn, except to wake up the living dead.  Thankfully most of us are almost dead at that hour, and don't really ever notice it.  Most, except Hunter.  In time, he will get used to it I am sure.

I am at a point where I wonder if I should call Canadian National or Canadian Pacific (CN/CP) to ask them why the horn blowing happens where there is no level crossing.  I know from personal experience (having had to respond to a police call regarding this same train line, when there was a fire along it about 8 years ago.  We had to send police to shut down local traffic where the train track crossed, because of the danger of the spreading fire caused by a spark from the trains wheels along the side of the track where bush brush usually grows.  That summer it was very dry, and the fire started and spread a great distance along the tracks.)  So I know there is no level crossing where this train goes, and therefore no reason to warn traffic of its approach.  What would you do?  When nothing wakes Hunter, he sleeps 8 hours straight, has some milk then goes back to sleep for another 4-5 hours.  Any suggestions out there?

Personal Journal Note:  Hunter had another BM.  Three days in a row - yeah!

1 comment:

  1. There is a level crossing on Audley Road south of Taunton maybe that is the one that the train is on when you hear the horn. I know it seems like a way off but in the wee hours of the morning the sound can travel quite a distance.

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