I read the following poem a few years ago, and found it again a few days ago. I don't remember where I got it, but think it is worth sharing. It is long but a good one.

To You, My Sisters
By: Maureen K. Higgins

Many of you I have never even met face to face, but I've searched you out every day. I've looked for you on the Internet, on playgrounds and in grocery stores.

I've become an expert at identifying you. You are well worn. You are stronger than you ever wanted to be. Your words ring experience, experiences you culled with your very heart and soul. You are compassionate beyond the expectations of this world. You are my "sisters".

Yes, you and I, my friend, are sisters in a sorority. A very elite sorority. We are special. Just like any other soroity, we were chosen to be members. Some of us were chosen to be members. Some of us were invited to join immediately, some not for months or even years. Some of us even tried to refuse membership, but to no avail.

We were initiated in neurologist's offices and NICU units, in obstetrician's offices, in emergency rooms, and during ultrasound's. We were initiated with somber telephone calls, consultations, evaluations, blood test, x-rays, MRI films, and heart surgeries.

All of us have one thing in common. One day things were fine. We were pregnant, or we had just given birth, or we were nursing our newborn, or we were playing with our toddler. Yes, one minute everything was fine. Then, whether it happened in an instant, as it often does, or over the course of a few weeks or months, our entire lives changed. Something wasn't quite right. Then we found ourselves mothers of children with special needs.

We are united, we sisters, regardless of the diversity of our children's special needs. Some of our children undergo chemoherapy. Some need respirators and ventilators. Some are unable to talk, some are unable to walk. Some eat through feeding tubes. Some live in a different world. We do not discriminate against those mothers whose children's needs are not as "special" as our child's. We have mutual respect and empathy for all the women who walk in our shoes.

We are knowledgeable. We have educated ourselves with whatever materials we could find. We know "the" specialist in the field. We know "the" neurologist, "the" hospitals, "the" wonder drugs, and "the" treatments. We know "the" tests that need to be done, we know "the" degenerative and pregressive diseases and we hold our breath while our children are tested for them. Without formal education, we could become board certified in neurology, endocrinology, and physiatry.

We have taken on our insurance companies and school boards to get what our children need to survive, and to flourish. We have prevailed upon the State to include augmentative communication devices in special education classes and mainstream schools for our children with cerebral palsy. We have labored to prove to insurance companies the medical necessity of gait trainers and other adaptive equipment for our children with spinal cord defects. We have sued municipalities to have our children properly classified so they could receive education and evaluation commensurate with their diagnosis.

We have learned to deal with the rest of the world, even if that means walking away from it. We have tolerated scorn in supermarkets during "tantrums" and gritted our teeth while discipline was advocated by the person behind us in line. We have tolerated insane suggestions and home remedies from well-meaning strangers. We have tolerated mothers of children without special needs complaining about chicken pox and ear infections. We have learned that many of our closest friends can't understand what it's like to be in our sorority, and don't even want to try.

We have our own personal copies of Emily Perl Kingsley's "Welcome to Holland" and Erma Bombeck's "The Special Mother". We keep them by our bedside and read and reread them during our toughest hours.

We have coped with holidays. We have found ways to get our physically handicapped children to the neighbors' front doors on Halloween, and we have found ways to help our deaf children form the words, "trick or treat". We have accepted that our children with sensory dysfunction will never wear velvet or lace on Christmas. We have painted a canvas of lihgts an da blazing Yule log with our words for our blind children. We have prueed trukey on Thanksgiving. We have bought white colored bunnies for Easter. And all the while, we have tried to create a festive atmosphere for the rest of our family.

We've gotten up every morning since our journey began wondering how we'd make it through another day, amd gone to bed every evening not sure how we did it.

We've mourned the fact that we never got to relax and sip red wine in Italy. We've mourned the fact that our trip to Holland has required much more baggage than we ever imagined when we first visited the travel agent. And we've mourned because we left for the airport without most of the things we needed for the trip.

But we, sisters, we keep the faith always. We never stop believing. Our love for our special children and our belief in all that they will achieve in life knows no bounds. We dream of them scoring touchdowns and extra points and home runs. We visualize them running sprints and marathons. We dream of them planting vegetable seeds, riding horses and chopping down trees. We hear their angelic voices singing Christmas carols. We see their palettes smeared with watercolors, and their fingers flying over ivory keys in a concert hall. We are amazed at the grace of the pirouettes. We never, never stop believing in all they will accomplish as they pass through this world.

But in the meantime, my sisters, the most important thing we do, is hold tight to their little hands as together, we special mothers and our special children, reach for the stars.

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Comment by alicia on July 16, 2008 at 1:46pm
I cried thru this poem, it truely touched my heart. I have read neither book,but am taking kids to the library tomorow and will check out both of them if available. Thank you.
Comment by Robyn Hoffman on July 14, 2008 at 11:10am
This inspirational and strong thread of knowledge could be phenominal... Exploring the possiblities has merit.

Misty could you forward me me more info on the publisher you referred to for my own project to my page?
Thanks, Robyn

The poem is incredible-
Comment by Tanya Fleming on July 14, 2008 at 9:43am
Misty let do it then. I think the proceeds going to PPMD is a great idea. It will help us get our stories out there and help the PPMD too. LETS JUST DO IT!!!
Comment by Misty VanderWeele on July 14, 2008 at 1:31am
Yes I have both, I love them. I love books too I have boxes and shelves full. I like Tanya's idea of writing our stories and then publishing them and my idea would be to give the proceeds to PPMD, I know a publisher online who can do this, it is how "Worth the ride:" by Josh Winheld was published : )
Comment by cheryl cliff on July 12, 2008 at 9:55pm
Hi Holly,

M.Higgins said it all, only to add is a choirs of amens!! Thank you for sharing her insight with us.

Comment by Tanya Fleming on July 12, 2008 at 10:43am
That poem is great. I will go get those books I love to read. I think we all should get together via internet and have each family right a story about their families and how they deal with this life, how creative we have to be with things, and have it published.
Comment by Christine Piacentino on July 12, 2008 at 7:47am
Great Peom.! I have read Erma Bombeck's Special Mother. Helps me get through the toughest times.
Comment by Holly Bailey on July 12, 2008 at 12:54am
Has anyone read the books mentioned - "Welcome to Holland" or "The Special Mother"?

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