Was sitting at some point during this last week, looking at my 4.5 year old, and trying to remember anything from when I was 4. I do have memories of my early years, I definitely remember my 2nd birthday cake (a big cat with coconut on it), I remember playing in the backyard when I must have been three or so, considering time frames on houses we lived in - and talking to the cows over the back fence. I also remember sitting in a doctors office on a big tall bed, legs dangling, while he performed the hammer/reflex test.
That last memory made me reflect on the different childhood that my children are having, compared to the one that I had. Don't get me wrong, I have fantastic, loving, kind parents and had a beautiful childhood that I would not change a single thing about. I wasn't the normal kid though.
I debated with myself whether to tell a bit about my history on this blog, to be honest not many people outside of my husband and my family know that much about it - not that I don't want to talk about it, more that it just doesn't come up. And I thought well, I could blog about it since I've been thinking about it recently, but would people really be interested in reading it?
And then I decided its my bloody blog and thus I shall write what I bloody well want.
So, as Julie sings, lets start at the very beginning.
I was born blue and not breathing after a very long labour during which my mother was denied, by the head obstetrician, a caesearean.
They realised things were going wrong, and 20 medical students were called in to watch my birth, to see how things "shouldnt happen". My poor mother.
The forceps broke during delivery and impaled themselves into the side of my head.
There was brain damage, and they didn't know how much.
Born blue and not breathing.
My parents were told I would not live past six weeks. I was very very sick. I was diagnosed with cerebral palsy, among other things. I made it past six weeks, so then they again brightened my parents day and said that I would live, but I would be severely disabled my entire life and would be unable to walk or talk.
I try to imagine what my mother must have felt (and my father for that matter), and prior to kids I just didn't give it the weight it really did deserve. After I had kids, well...my poor parents.
So I was transferred from hospital to a childrens home, which specialised in disabled children and learning about their disabilities, and parents getting help with learning how to look after their child.
My parents went home without me, and left me there, and travelled over an hour each way to see me each day. At three months, I was allowed to come home.
Again - I have no concept of what it must be like to give birth to a full term baby, and have to leave her behind. And not have her home with you for three months. My poor mother.
So - things were looking pretty grim. Then I started crawling. Which I was supposedly never going to do. And walking. And talking. Granted these milestones were much later than the norm, but still, I did it.
I went to preschool with other kids. I started school with other kids. And I did well. Very well in fact.
I had every specialist known to mankind. Lots of doctors who peered at me in astonishment. Followups at the childrens home (oh how I DREADED those trips). I do have cerebral palsy, that was not a false diagnosis. It is however, very VERY mild and only presents itself when I am extremely tired, at which point I develop a very pronounced limp.
At 13 my parents sued, via the Accident Compensation people in New Zealand, the idiot doctor who denied my mother a caesearean because natural birth was best. This is why I didn't fight when I was told to have a caesearean with my children. This is why I get irked with all the comments on having a caesearean is taking the easy way out. This is why I get slightly frustrated with women who have been told they should not birth naturally, being so sure that they should. This is why. My parents won. Obviously. My parents used the money for my education.
I was TERRIBLE at sports. And got a lot of flack throughout school because I was so very bad. Always the last one picked and the one everyone groaned at having on their team. Really builds the self confidence. But I was hardly going to say look, theres a reason I'm so crap, because so far as I was concerned, I was normal. I spent so much time being treated differently with the doctors and all that went with that, I refused to tell anyone that I was different. I was the same. Besides which - what kid would say look, I have issues. That is more likely to cause more damage than good.
At 8 I developed epilepsy. Three seizures total I had, scared the crap out of my parents, spent the night in hospital for tests, went onto medication. At 17 I decided I didn't have epilepsy anymore (yep..read...headstrong teenager) and took myself off the medication. Luckily for me it turned out that I didn't, because things really could have ended badly there.
See the problem with having such a traumatic start, is that any character flaws do tend to be contributed to that faulty start. And much though I argue that no, its actually my personality, its not something that wouldn't have been otherwise - theres no way to prove it. And in fact at the end of the day it doesnt really matter how it came about does it...this IS my personality, and analysing why I have particular traits is not particularly useful for anyone, and has no real purpose. There was quite a bit of that though when I was younger. I hated that too. Hated being told well look, you shouldnt do that, maybe its because of your brain injury. NO I wanted to scream. Its not because of my brain injury, its because I'm a teenager. I'm the same, I'm the same, I'm the same.
At 18 I had a final psychologists appointment. To analyse my brain and how it works, since originally it wasnt supposed to work. And what they found was very interesting, even to myself who lives in my head on a regular basis. I reach the same conclusions as everyone else - I just do it differently. My brain works differently. My injury happened when my brain was brand new, and had no pathways - so because the original pathways were burned, my brain created new ones. And because my brain was new, it didn't know that they werent the tried and tested pathways. To my brain, they are the normal pathways, and therefore unless someone peers into my head to see how I think, nobody can tell the difference.
I do think that is pretty cool.
I think the above had a lot to do with moving overseas at 21. Mum and Dad couldn't help it, I wasn't supposed to be here, or I at the very least was not supposed to be normal. They were protective. I understand. But I was also frustrated. Moving overseas was the only way that I could become my own person, at least in my head - meet new people who didn't know my history. Not that everyone knew my history at home apart from family but...ah difficult to explain. Or maybe not so much, maybe that does make sense.
So having said all that, some days I look at my children and I feel blessed that they are having a normal childhood. They don't have specialists. Their memories won't include doctors visits or sitting in another waiting room. Won't include being poked and prodded, and having to strip down so doctors could analyse my bone structure and how I was growing, whether the cerebral palsy was causing malformations. Not for them. For that I am happy.
