The Hospital

I drove by the hospital where Shea was born today.  It is such a mixed bag of emotions when I revisit this place.  It is, of course, filled with joy because this is the place where I was introduced to my lovely young daughter, but it is also the place where Shea experienced her first unlucky turn in life.

I've been thinking about fate, destiny, and God's will lately as it has come up in a number of things I'm reading and my fiction writing students seem to love the concept, but there is a darker side to fate, to luck, in this world.  It isn't always being named the "Boy Who Survived" like in Harry Potter.  It isn't always being deemed a hero and finding a destiny that wins fame and accord.

Shea's first brush with fate was the day she was born.  With the cord wrapped around her neck, she came out not breathing.  That first cry you expect when a new baby is born was delayed for what seemed like more than a few minutes and I remember alternating between breathless anticipation and trying to distract Tracy from the fact that she hadn't cried yet.

That moment, the moment of her arrival, has marked her, in much the same way that Harry Potter was "marked" after his brush with death.  For Shea, it left two grey spots on her brain that may, or may not, have something to do with her mobility issues.  She's had to undergo physical and occupational therapy since before she celebrated a single birthday, but she doesn't know anything different.  She doesn't quite know that she's been touched, blessed, cursed, to have a life that is just slightly different from the other kids that fill her life.

This won't always be the case.  Shea is four now and she will soon come to realize her difference.  She will begin to actively realize that other kids don't wear braces on their feet.  She'll observe how quickly they can run and jump, and how easily they maintain their balance.  This won't be the case for her and soon she will be coming home from school with questions. 

I plan on being frank with her about her difference.  As does Tracy.  But there is still something inherently difficult about laying the burden of difference upon your child.  About telling them that sometimes people have bad luck, that the fates are cruel, and that doesn't mean that the life touched by fate has to be any more or any less than others.  She is beautiful, smart, loving, compassionate, hilarious, and gifted with numerous other talents.  The key is to show her those talents and not let the shadow of "It That Shall Not Be Named", or difference, fall to heavily upon her shoulders.