I'm Still Working On It

This week, we finally signed the IEP for Nicholas.  It's official.  I have three kids in Special Ed.  For anyone reading this who hasn't heard the term IEP, it stand for Individualized Education Plan, and every child in SpEd has one. It lays out the qualifications, and goals for the child for the year. Ever year, we meet, go over the progress, and rewrite the goals.

The decision of the IEP team, in Nick's case, is to send him to a different school in the district for 5th grade, so that he can participate in a program for kids with high functioning Autism and Aspergers. It is a Special Day class, he will not be mainstreamed.  The program is wonderful and I know he is going to thrive there.  I am even hopeful he will make some real friends.  On the whole, this is a good thing.  Yet, when I went to sign the paperwork, I just wanted to cry.  

I'm not even sure why.  We are so blessed.  I have more than one friend whose children have had to fight just to live.  My friends deal with brain tumors, and leukemia, and liver cancer.  My kids have it so easy in comparison.  But I still want to cry, and I feel guilty for feeling that way.

I know in my head how lucky we are.  I know in my head that while it won't necessarily be easy, they will be okay and happy.  My heart just hasn't quite got the message yet.  It still feels the sting of seeing my son in tears after being teased and bullied.  It feels the sting of judgment and assumption that comes when others look at my kids and don't see them for who they are.  It feels the sting when I can see in people's eyes that they see labels and stereotypes instead of people: "Down Syndrome"  Autistic"  "weirdo"  . . .  the r-word.

I am grateful.  I am, truly, grateful that my children are healthy, and don't have to fight the battles other children do.  But in my heart, that's not enough.  I want them to be seen for who they are,  accepted as is,  included and valued for their unique gifts.  It's not too much to ask is it?

Or maybe, I just need to focus less on what the world thinks, and spend more energy on being grateful for the privilege of being their mom, and for their health and all the love and support that surround us.  Maybe I just  need to get over myself and my hangups.  I'm trying. 

I hope my stronger friends, whose children have real fights to fight, will forgive me, and be patient with me.  I look up to you, and want to be more like you.

I'm still a work in progress.