WELCOME TO HOLLAND
by
Emily Perl Kingsley.
c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this……
When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland.”
“Holland?!?” you say. “What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.”
But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It’s just a different place. It’s slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around…. and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills….and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy… and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say “Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.”
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away… because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But… if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things … about Holland.
A Mixed Bag 
Beautifully put from someone who really understands , I wish you and your family love and health for the future. I look forward to reading your blogs 🙂
I was told of this poem not long after my son was first diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome. When you are told, it’s a case of “yeah, your son has an ASD… NEXT” But this tells you what you can expect and how things may be different, but that doesn’t mean they are all bad.
Thanks for reading my blog and taking the time to comment.
Your very Welcome , the good thing is that whatever the diagnosis we are not alone 🙂
Exactly. Where I was living before, I helped found a group called The Father’s Club. This was only for fathers of disabled children. There are plenty of groups for women, but the men tend to get left out. It was surprising to see how not alone we are when there is a group where we can share experiences and even bounce advice.
I used to love this when my son was first diagnosed…. now I prefer Welcome to Beruit..,
LMAO. I just looked it up. It is very moving, and so true. It knocks ASD’s right on the head. Thankfully, my son did start talking early – although later than other children. He is in a special needs school where they deal with them as they are supposed to be dealt with. He spent a lot of his primary school life in mainstream schools though.
I’m going to post that Welcome to Beirut. Thank you.
you are so very welcome.