At this point, I’ll admit, I did join in on the rude comment, and I should know better… but give me a minute to explain.
When I tell the story of the grocery store lady to people, I don’t intend to be the person that sounds like they bark orders to everyone that talks badly about Max. That’s not what I want to teach Max, and that’s not who I am. On the particular day that the woman fussed at me for Max being on a bottle at the age of 3, she was not the first person to say something. I had tried my damnedest to ignore all comments before (and believe me, I had heard plenty), but I do think there comes a point that we have to stand up for ourselves and our children… seriously, when is enough an enough? I try to teach Max to be a giving and caring person, especially since it’s already going to be hard for him in this world. I try to teach him that the world is a loving place, but there’s just people out there that stare, gawk and can’t take their eyes off of you because you are different. Don’t get me wrong, I try to teach him that he may be different, but so is everyone else… am I doing the wrong thing as a parent for always sticking up for him? Should I give society a break because they treat him wrong and he should just learn his lesson?
This Facebook post goes on, and I apologize to Eliot for making an assumption that this woman could have not known what she was speaking of. I also apologized for doing something that we parents of disabled kids teach our children not to do, and that is to judge. I should have kindly told the woman what was wrong with Max and I should have kindly told her that my son had a condition that he could die from if he wasn’t on a bottle, but it is so hard to speak kind words when the world does nothing but pour down on you. When everyone tells you that you are too young to have a baby, too young to take care of baby with a disability and does nothing but judge you and your child for still doing simple things, like being on a bottle… well, it’s hard not to get pissed off.
I told the commenter on this post that it was unfortunate for what I said to this woman, because it was not her fault… but think of it this way, do you think she even remembers me? I remember her. I remember the doctor that told me that I was neglecting my child because he was still on a one-hole bottle nipple while his own child was on a three-hole bottle nipple (yeah, do you think that doctor should have realized something was wrong then? Well, he didn’t). I remember the doctors that told me that my child would never talk. I remember being the only one there for Max when he needed someone and it felt like the world was against us. I remember. Do you think they do?