Cass has been a part of my life for nine years now. And in those nine years I’ve become accustomed to the nuances of parenting a child with special needs: translating for people who can’t understand her, looming disasters that can occur if I take my eyes off of her for even a second in public, strangers who feel compelled to offer her a hug.
These are things we face and deal with each day. Things I’ve come to understand. Things that have become habitual.
And then there are those things that throw me for a loop.
Like hearing the doctor say that Cass is developing cataracts.
Cataracts.
Not such a big deal in the grand scheme of things. But something that caught me quite off guard.
I expected a routine visit, maybe a stronger prescription. But cataracts? C’mon. Really? As if she doesn’t face enough as is.
I wish I could lift those struggles from her–take them on myself.
She’s been poked and prodded more times than any child should be. She’s faced hospitalizations and therapies that exhaust her. She struggles to learn the most basic concepts.
And those things don’t even touch on her future.
Yet I’ve always parented her as if there is no difference between her and and her siblings.
Little things like what the doctor told me today serve to draw an undeniable comparison. One that I can’t ignore.
She is different. In so many ways.
I still don’t understand why she was born into the body she was. Why it had to be her.
And though I don’t understand, I’m not angry. Or bitter. Or regretful.
Just heartbroken. Sometimes.


{ 31 comments… read them below or add one }
I’m sorry…that IS hard. My cousin has Down Syndrome…and she is been through SO much…I can’t imagine what it would be like .
Hi Darcie,
I am Wendy’s (weightwhat) sister. I am so sorry about your news today…
My daughter battled leukemia for 6 years – dx at 10 months. One of her relapses was a tumor in the orbit of the eye that required targeted radiation. We were told that a cateract in that eye was inevitable. Sure enough, a few years after the radiation, she developed a cateract. It came on very quickly and required surgery to remove so that the brain wouldn’t shut down the eye. The day came for the surgery and I truely expected something out of a horror movie when she woke up… But when she woke up, you couldn’t even tell that she had had surgery. Only when she looked down could you see the redness. There was no pain involved. In children, they put in an adult lense for them to grow into. She had glasses for 3 years and now the vision is great in that eye and she no longer needs glasses.
I know it is so hard to see all that has been taken from your child. But, I see in Alex the joy on her face every day… she doesn’t see it the way I do as a parent… as far as she’s concerned nothing has been taken from her… she’s just happy to be. The sorrow is mine alone, not hers.
I will be thinking of you and Cassie. If there are any questions I can help you with about the surgery, please, let me know!
Take Care,
Andrea
I am so sorry to hear that.
Oh, no! I’m sorry for that bad news. Is she going to have surgery for it? It’s just not right for little ones to have to go through so much.
No answers, just hugs and love to both you and Cass. She’s lucky to have a wonderful mother like you, and you’re lucky to have her, too. :)
You say what is in MY heart. What a gift
Goodness… Its always something isn’t it? Hang in there.
What is done for cataracts?
Oh, wow, Darcie. Thank you for sharing this. What a difficult road God has asked you & Cass to walk. Praying for you!
No answers here either. Just some hugs and good vibes coming at you through the vast abyss of the Internet.
But you do carry those burdens for her. You are her mother, how could you not? Maybe you don’t carry them physically, but you undoubtedly carry them in your heart.
I don’t understand, either. :(
Sending you hugs.
I’m sorry, Darcie. I don’t understand these things either. What I do know is that Cass is SO lucky to have you by her side!
OH, Darcie. So precious. Bless her heart and yours.
Steph
Oh girl – I am praying for you and Cass right now. She’s blessed to have a momma like you!
I am so sorry. Poor Cass, and poor Darcie. For what ittle comfort that may be, this is probably harder on you than it will be her. The surgery is fairly minor, and kids rebound so quickly. It’s usually just mom who carries the hurt forever.
(hugs)
You, Jeff, and your children continue to inspire me as I read each of your stories, Darcie. Love you.
She is so beautiful and so re you–inside and out. I am so sorry your heart is aching.
So sorry Darcie…
Darcie, you write so poignantly, so passionately, so beautiful.
I know I can’t truly understand what it’s like to have a child with special needs, but I always feel like reading your struggles and triumphs helps me understand and empathize more with people who do. Thank you for that.
You are a strong woman and I admire you. I’m glad we’re “friends” and I sincerely hope we can get to know each other better in the coming year.
Hey Darcie. My heart breaks for you. I know what you mean when you say she is different. My Henry is different, too.
Just when I feel like he’s not, something happens–like an iep meeting–to remind me. And then a tiny little shard of sadness pierces my heart.
I know your life with Cass is much different than my life with Henry, but just wanted to say that on a small level, I get you. I get your pain. I wish there was more I could say to help.
You handle all of this with such grace and beauty. And sometimes humor. I admire that. Thinking of you…
I stopped by for another of your amusing tales and was saddened to read the news about Cassie’s eyes. That just stinks. I’ll be praying for her. And you, too! A mama’s job is never easy… no matter who you are. XOXO
I’m so sorry, Darcie. What always amazes me about Cass is that she has such spirit and zest for life, and I feel like somehow, someway, Cass will make this okay–or at the very least, she’ll meet this head on and refuse to let it hold her back.
I’m sorry to read this. Thanks for being so honest and real. I will keep you all in my prayers.
As many others have said I am so sorry and wish there was something I could do. You are in my thoughts and prayers.
Your openness on your blog has given me insight into the reality that the family of my son’s friend experiences.
Doesn’t seem “fair”. I guess there are no answers sometimes. But your attitude and perspective are inspiring. Thanks for sharing and being so real. Hugs to you both!
You can ask the “Why her” question, but what a BLESSED little girl to be born to YOU.
She’d be a lot worse off without YOU, friend.
Praying for you today.
Oh Darcie, I can’t believe a didn’t check in a few days ago to see this. I can’t even imagine all the challenges you’ve been through and yet you approach every step with such grace and dignity.
You and Cass and the rest of the family will be in my thoughts.
Through it all, she is so lucky to have you as a Mom :)
How you fight for her. It’s just awesome.
Darcie-she is so lucky to have you as a mom! So very lucky! And, I know that you feel lucky to have her, too.
I hope that the doctor can help find a good, quick and easy fix for her cataracts….what struggle.
You have such a great attitude and I’m sure it shows through Cass, too.
Praying for you to feel peace, my cyber friend. :)
Oh, Darcie…I am hoping you can overcome this hurdle with the strength perseverance that you have had during those other trying times.
Sending hugs and pixie dust your way! You and Cassidy are in my prayers.