I remember hearing someone once say, that if you were with a group of people and everyone was to chuck their problems onto the table, you would quietly grab your own and sneak back out of the room.
This was echoed a few years back when I was suffering from Depression and attended Group Therapy sessions. I remember feeling like a fraud. Everyone seemed to have problems far worse than mine, and for a long time I didn’t open up much about my own difficulties as they seemed so trivial by comparison. Yet when I did, I saw the look on other faces of empathy, sympathy and relief that they only had their own problems to deal with and not mine.
On more than a few occasions I’ve found myself with exactly the same sensation when it comes to my daughter, Meg.
Before I moved away from Central Scotland I was involved for a few months in a group set up for Fathers of Children with Special Needs (strictly no group hugs) and got chatting with John. John had a son with Down’s Syndrome who was almost exactly the same age as Meg. I once confessed to him I had no idea how he’d been capable of dealing with his son’s extensive bowel problems and felt I was so fortunate Meg had never had any difficulties in that area. He replied that he’d always felt he was fortunate his son had never had the heart problems we’d had with Meg, which he considered a far worse affliction.
And the feeling hasn’t left since I started blogging.
There are other blogs written by parents of children with Down’s Syndrome who have to cope and deal with a whole range of issues I’ve never had to face with Meg; some physical, some mental, some emotional.
And then there are all the forms Special Needs takes which are nothing like Down’s Syndrome at all. Autism, for example, is one of those I wouldn’t have a clue where to begin. It is completely outside my experience.
So I’m thankful Meg is basically healthy
I’m thankful Meg’s limbs and organs all seem to be in place and working.
I’m thankful Meg’s heart operation when she was 5 months old was a success.
I’m thankful Meg can communicate relatively clearly.
I’m thankful Meg is so “in” the world.
I’m thankful Meg doesn’t hold back with hugs, cuddles, kisses and telling me she loves me.
I’m thankful Meg has friends at school.
I’m thankful Meg is in mainstream education and gets most of the support she needs.
I’m thankful Meg is so close to her siblings.
I’m thankful Meg is loved and indulged by all of our friends.
I’m thankful Meg is quite bold and confident.
I’m thankful Meg is creative (see Meg’s Kitchen Exhibition on my own blog).
I’m thankful Meg sleeps through the night.
I’m thankful Meg is toilet trained.
I could, of course, go on for much, much longer.
So on those rare occasions when I hear people comment that they don’t know how I can cope with a child with Down’s Syndrome; that they have great respect for me as it’s not something they think they’d ever be able to do themselves; I find myself thinking how bizarre their thoughts are.
What? Not be able to cope with Meg? But Meg’s so easy to bring up compared to some children.
And I don’t just mean children with special needs.
At least Meg isn’t likely to end up as a Crack Dealer, or worse, a politician.
In the end it’s the unknown that’s scary. But as with many problems, when you’ve dealt with them at least once, it ceases to be unknown and quite often you wonder what all the fuss was about.
Kim is usually to be found at his own blog, Ramblings of the Bearded One. Although you will find tales about his daughter, Meg, under his “Down’s Syndrome” category, you’ll find far more simply under “Fatherhood“