Rana Reisman
“Can you call her?”
That request was posed to me, asking me to reach out to a new ‘mother’ (aka.. a woman who had just joined the exclusive club of having a baby with Down syndrome).
And so, I hesitantly called Mrs. Klein. We shared mutual friends.
She was in her low 40’s, with numerous children. She was very excited to speak to me. She seemed optimistic. She seemed positive.
It was obvious from the conversation that she loved her new baby and wanted to know all she could in order to provide him with the best opportunities possible.
I explained what she should focus on in the first year – early intervention services – OT, PT, Speech, getting the best therapists, applying to Medicaid, connecting to a reputable agency, and to somehow etch out personal time for herself, while attending to her other children and spending time with her husband (an almost impossible task).
I encouraged her to treat him like any other baby; that he will thrive having older siblings to play and interact with; that they will be his best therapists.
The conversation brought me back in time. I took a look back in the rear-view mirror of my life. I remember feeling overwhelmed, unsettled and somewhat anxious that first year.
There were so many issues to be dealt with. The most critical was my son’s heart failure and upcoming surgery. Additionally, we were dealing with his ongoing gastrointestinal problems, along with his failure to thrive. This was besides addressing his obvious developmental delays.
I had entered a new world of bureaucracy. I had to learn a whole new language. I had to understand an unfamiliar system of agencies, evaluations and case managers.
I was conflicted.
I wanted everyone to just go away and let me just raise this baby; yet, at the same time I really depended on the support of all the people I wanted to avoid.
As I continued my conversation with Mrs. Klein, I reassured her that not only will things settle down, but in time, she will realize this baby would be the most delicious and lovable child. He will accomplish so much, and become such an integral part of her family.
Personally, I wouldn’t want to repeat that phase of my life; it was exhausting, and honestly somewhat scary. I had no idea what the future would bring. I felt like my life was running on a treadmill. I was scared to stop focusing on Yehudah’s needs, because I had this worry that if I wasn’t engaged with him enough I wasn’t doing all I could for his development.
But now that I’m at the other end of the road, I am so genuinely thankful to Hashem for blessing me and my family with such a wonderful child.
Yehuda is precious. He’s made his mark on the world and has impacted so many people for the better. I’m so impressed with his accomplishments.
Looking back in the rear-view mirror of my life afforded me glimpses of all the efforts my family had invested in his development. At 22, I really see how far he has come. I can sit back and truly enjoy him. He’s become a huge comfort in my life, as I age. He’s well adjusted, content, more settled.
My message to Mrs. Klein, and all the ‘new mothers’ out there is as follows: take it day by day, step by step, milestone by milestone, and follow the ‘Yellow Brick Road’ of your unique journey.
You will not only revel in the journey, but will IYH celebrate reaching the magical place of OZ.
The author can be reached via this magazine