#18 Advice for Parents of Blind Children

Today's blogging prompt asks me to write, "Advice for Parents of Blind Children."

I feel like I have written this post many times but there is always something more to say. I can only give advice based on my experience of mothering a blind child for a little over three years now. Today I'm going to talk about the emotional side of parenting a blind child.

When Tom was born there was so much uncertainty about his health. The doctors weren't sure what his tight muscles, smaller than average head size, and unresponsive eyes meant. Would he walk? Would he talk? It was all very frightening.

We did our best to enjoy Tom as the baby he was and forget about the medical part of our lives as much as possible. We loved Tommy no matter what his health or potential were. Tom has never looked into my eyes but from day one he has leaned into me and sighed with contentment. I felt his need for me instantly.

the eye shield was a dead giveaway!

The first year was very hard because of all the "milestone pressure." I used to dread running into other moms when Tommy and I were out because the questions would begin. I hated the look on their faces when they would look at him and realize he was quite small for his age and notice he didn't have the large, inquisitive eyes babies usually have. I began to avoid going out in public.

It took me a while to get over the staring and the whispers. It still happens but I can handle it now. Anyone who has a child that is "different" in any way knows what I'm talking about. This is emotional work you need to do as a parent so you can be supportive and strong.

It took me a long time to toughen up. I cry easily and everything used to make me cry. I think I had to be completely broken down so I could build myself back up. I know I'm not the same person I used to be before I became a mother. I had to mourn the life I thought I would have as a mother. I didn't expect my son to have five surgeries before he was eight months old. You can't really prepare yourself for that. My husband and I took a lot of time to ourselves when Thomas was first born. We cut off all communication with our friends because then it was too hard for us to talk about Tom's health. At first I couldn't say the word blind without crying.

I'll never forget the first time I had to explain to a mother and her child that my son was blind. We were in the waiting room of our pediatrician and a little boy was trying to get Tom's attention. He and his mom didn't understand why Tom wouldn't look up at him. I told them, "Tom is blind and can't see you, so to play with him you have to touch him on the arm to get his attention." It was so hard to say, and yes, I got teary saying it. Now I say it all the time and I am fine.

People always say things like, "I could never do what you do!" or, "God gives these children to special people." There are many parents who have children with special needs. We are just regular people. I think this quote is very apt.

"You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have." - Cayla Mills

Time is what healed us. As Tom grew we became more confident in our roles as parents and advocates for him. Tom began therapy through Early Intervention which brought us tremendous resources, support, and information. The more we understood about blindness the less scary it was. Somehow I got a copy of "Future Reflections" magazine and it opened my eyes to the potential all blind children have.

Tom's health has improved tremendously over the past three years. I am happy to report that he is walking and talking. The talking has been slow to come but he is saying more every day!

Today I laugh when strangers give me a knowing look when I am out with Tommy and say, "Just you wait until...." Bring it on. You have no idea what we have been through.