Last week I mentioned that I was granted permission to post one of my favorite essays.  It touches upon what it feels like to parent a special needs child. It was originally given to me by my son, M.’s, teacher years ago on the first day of school, and it has stayed with me ever since.  I hope it touches you also.

Welcome to Holland


Emily Perl Kingsley

(c) 1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley.  All rights reserved.  Reprinted by permission of the author.

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared 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 guide books and make your wonderful plans.  The Coliseum.  The Michelangelo David.  The gondolas in 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 flight attendant 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, full of pestilence, famine and disease.  It’s just a different place.

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

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

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

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.

Thank you Ms. Kingsley for allowing me to share your words, and thank you for reading.

10 thoughts on “Welcome to Holland

  1. I was sent to Siberia with the first one, and Jumanji with the second one. I believe I was suppose to go to Utopia for at least one of those birthing vacations. But, Siberia has been interesting, with lots of hidden secrets buried just under the surface, and Jumanji .. well. Jumanji has been an adventure I’m still trying to recover from. At least now I know to watch out for the monkeys on everyones backs.
    Like your writing – I’ll have to stop by again.


  2. I remember the prenatal classes and the nurse instructing all the new parents on what parenthood could be like and she read that piece to us. I never thought I would be going there myself because my beautiful child reached all the mile stones and yet their was something quirky going on. it was a slow process to finally getting a diagnoses of Aspergers Syndrome at the age of four, yet we already knew as parents that he was different. Our journey has taken us to so many different places and we are blessed to have met many wonderful inspiring people along the way. Thanks for the reminder that even though we went somewhere different it has helped us as parents to evolve through love acceptance and most of all understanding.


    1. Beautiful comment. Thank you. Holland is full of surprises, that’s for sure. Keep exploring and learning and enjoying as much as you can with your special child. Thanks for reading.


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