Looking back, the days following Jack's birth were some of the most intense times ever. Having your first baby is a big enough life change, and having a baby that has special needs is a life change too, but bringing a baby home that wasn't supposed to survive to term in my womb, let alone survive birth is quite something else. After 7 days we were discharged from hospital, and I can just about remember the journey home in the car, with Jack in his car seat. I remember going through the front door and finding balloons with "Welcome Home" on them and Jack's moses basket set up in the corner. As I had been in hospital prior to Jacks birth, my Mum had got my house ready. I didn't have a pram - I wouldn't let anyone buy anything before Jack was born, so a friend had lent me one. Luckily I had brought bottles and a sterliser so I was ready to go feeding wise. Jack seemed happy enough, he fed well (every four hours!), he slept well, and he hardly ever cried. As for me, I wasn't really doing well. The previous weeks had really taken their toll. I just felt numb. I didn't sleep (Jack awoke whenever I closed my eyes it seemed), I didn't eat, in fact most nights I just sat on the edge of the bed watching Jack in his moses basket - waiting for him to wake up! Obviously this couldn't continue and within a week or so I was in complete bits. The health visitor and the midwife weren't much use. Back in 1995 things were a lot different to how they are now I suspect. I would hope that nowadays, with the advance in medicine, that there are more supportive midwives and health visitors, but back then I just remember them cuddling Jack and saying "awww isn't it a shame" an awful lot, then asking me if I was ok, before picking up their bags and clearing off to see their next patient. Of course I lied through my teeth to the professionals. Yes I was fine...coping well (which I was practically) but emotionally I was completely worn out and it was starting to show.
It wasn't long before I fell to pieces. I remember sitting on the sofa one morning with the GP (who Mum had called because she was worried) and sobbing my eyes out. I cried for what seemed like hours, and I remember the GP had said that she wanted me to go into a special "Mum and Baby Unit" in a mental health hospital. She was worried I had severe post natal depression. All that was the matter was that all that had happened with my pregnancy had taken it's toll. Plain and simple. But she wouldn't leave until I had at the very least agreed to talk to a psychotherapist. I agreed to that.
The public perception of Jack was something to get used to as well. He looked different to other babies as his facial features were different and his head was elongated at the back and much larger than it should've been. You get used to people staring after a while, but in the early days I found it very hard. I actually had a lady follow me around a chemist shop once, trying to peep at Jack in his pram. I have also encountered a pensioner who told me Jack shouldn't be allowed out in public. But you know what, it really doesn't matter. Peoples perception of Jack is born of ignorance. They have never had to deal with disabilities. There was a time when I was pretty much the same. But once you have someone in your life, who isn't Joe average your perception changes very quickly.
To sum everything up I would say that no professional body helped me come to terms with Jack and his disabilities. It was something I came to terms with by myself and in my own time. Of course I went through the motions of grieving for the child that Jack should have been....he would never walk...talk...play football...ride a bike...have a girlfriend...etc etc.
But back then I had no idea of the wonderful things he WOULD be. The beautiful son who has a devilish giggle, the boy who would win you over with a cuddle and a smile, the twinkle in his eye when he makes eye contact with you, and nowadays the young man who loves to flirt! Jack is Jack plain and simple. I no longer grieve for what might have been, but I love him for the wonderful son that he is.
If you are a parent in the same position right now as I was 15 years ago, you may be reading this with a heavy heart and wondering if you will ever feel positive about life again. I also remember feeling incredibly guilty that I felt so pessimistic about what Jack's life would hold in store for him. I promise...things will get better....but you really need to give yourself time, maybe a lot of time...but things will come right in the end. Feeling this way doesn't make you a bad parent - it's normal...and don't let anyone (especially those who aren't in your situation) tell you any different. Everything takes time to adjust to. But you will get there in the end. If you don't have anyone else who you can talk to - please use the Contact Us link on the homepage and maybe I can help in some way.