The universe and my child are conspiring against me it seems. Well, at least in terms of my recent ability —rather, inability— to find the time to sit and write coherent prose of any sort that is not a simple regurgitation of recent events.
Today is chilly and rainy which means I cannot be waylaid by the plethora of chores in my garden; the weeds get a respite it seems. Nik has finally deigned to actually sleep at nap time, and my husband is still at school for a while longer today. I’d better work fast…
Four weeks ago, Jennifer Graf Groneberg’s Road Map to Holland hit the stores. I think I may have gotten the first copy on sale in my hometown; I was so excited to read more about Jennifer and her wonderful family. You see —I have a confession —I have just a teensy bit of a blog crush on Jennifer.
It might have something to do with her amazing writing style, or her obvious love for all of her children and her love and respect for her husband, Tom. But, really, I think it was Tom’s books (one of which I reviewed here) which cemented it for me. I don’t know how to possibly explain except to say that having read some of the back story, as told by Tom, I knew that the woman who shared this grand adventure of life as he described it —and who not only survived but thrived and blossomed in the process —was someone I would want to call friend and be proud to call sister.
By now, you’ve surely seen all the reviews. If you haven’t then you should go here and browse to your heart’s content. There are so many insightful and erudite reviews that I am a tad embarrassed even to be sharing my own. What could I possibly write about Road Map to Holland that hasn’t already been said at least twice over by any of these reviewers?
A must read for any parent of a special needs child?
Emotionally powerful and moving?
Raw, honest, unflinching?
Poignant, poetic, wise and insightful?
Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes, again.
And yet…I found it very difficult to read the first few chapters of this book. The story itself wasn’t the challenge —I know how it turns out (so far, anyway); the difficulty was the memories it evoked of my own experience after the birth of my son at 27 weeks and our subsequent 209 day stay in the NICU. At each turn of the page, I found such viscerally painful memories startling me that I could only read small bits at a time.
As Jennifer’s beautiful prose unfolded before me, I felt the uncomfortable sting of familiarity. The rawness of the emotions which overtook me at times made me remember that lost feeling I had after Nik was born —the utter conviction that I had already failed in my abilities as a mother. The confusing swirl of emotions which assaulted my psyche each day as I sat at Nik’s bedside, or at home trying to pump the milk that simply would not come in no matter how much I willed it; the worry, shame, guilt, fear, and inadequacy I felt —and the desperate isolation—all came rushing back to me.
Fortunately, I am beyond that after all these years. Now, facing other issues as my son grows, I have the camaraderie and sisterhood of other blogging mamas —Jennifer among them— to help me understand that all is not lost in the moments when I am certain it must be; that I am not alone and I do not have to be. That life not only goes on but can be beautiful, funny, and richly rewarding. The connection is a blessing —a lifeline when I feel at risk of drowning.
I wish I’d had the benefit of another woman’s understanding and wisdom in those early days after Nik was born; another woman’s healing and acceptance, and another woman’s compassionate permission to feel the grief and fear and anger I felt but had no where to direct. Jennifer’s story really is, I think, the story of Everywoman who has walked in similar shoes. Certainly, some move through their stages of grieving, accepting, forgiving and forging ahead at different paces; but the realization that we share so much in spite of our different circumstances is powerful. Empowering.
Jennifer’s book stands not only as a wonderful resource for parents of an infant newly diagnosed with a disability, but also serves as a moving and inspiring road map to self-healing and self-acceptance. A road map to becoming the mother our children need us to be —at whatever pace we may take.
A must read for any parent of a special needs child?
Emotionally powerful and moving?
Raw, honest, unflinching?
Poignant, poetic, wise and insightful?
Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes, again.
Thanks so much for sharing this! I just put a hold on it at the library.
XO R
“I wish I’d had the benefit of another woman’s understanding and wisdom in those early days after Nik was born; another woman’s healing and acceptance, and another woman’s compassionate permission to feel the grief and fear and anger I felt but had no where to direct.”
I wish this too. I remember feeling quite alone for years. I wish I would have known about blogging then.
Beautiful review.
It’s hard to believe we were all so alone, so very alone. But now look–we have such wonderful company.
Beautiful review, so heartfelt and honest.
Who ever said the best is saved for last was right! And too, that all good things are worth waiting for…
This was just beautiful. Thank you for this review, it means so much to me (and I have a little blogger crush on you, too…)
xo