Welcome to Holland

At this point in our adoption journey, we don't have a lot to report. We're waiting for the state to officially certify us, and we're waiting to hear back about a young couple in Wisconsin. In the meantime, I thought I would share a story that was given to us during our adoption class. As you read it, insert "adopted child" where it says "child with a disability." It fits well.


Welcome to Holland
by Emily Perl Kingsley

"I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not share that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this:

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michaelangelo David. The gondolas of Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"HOLLAND?!!" you say, "What do you mean, Holland? I signed up for Italy. I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guidebooks. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole group of people you never would have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there a while and you catch your breath, you look around and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills. Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they're having. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes. That's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned on."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever go away, because the loss of that dream is a very significant one.

But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland."