I decided to start blogging about Jordan from the moment I found out I was pregnant. Jordan was born with a little arm that didn't grow like most babies. Her left arm stopped just above the elbow. Now I'm committed to making sure Jordan gets everything out of life. We feel blessed to be the parents of a very special little girl.

11.19.2007

Staring

**Note: I've spent a few days on this post. So pardon the slight rambling**

Staring is an issue my family will forever learn to deal with... I used to have a really hard time with it. When Jordan was a baby, I'd look for people staring. Like I was a glutton for punishment. At some point I realized I was focusing on others and not on my family. No, I'm not ignoring what's happening around me. I'm just not encouraging the drama. I also think it's more important to focus on my family than worry about the general public.

But I keep thinking about the staring.

I was talking to one of the grad students about our life with Jordan. In so many ways it's just like having another kid... But when you think about it, we're different people now. We're different because we aren't able to just pass by in the crowd. I used to be very jealous of families who have kids without any obvious differences. The comfort of just being a family without staring is a gift that you don't realize you have until you lose it. Then I felt bad for even thinking about those stares because I'm not the one who really will have these stares for the rest of my life. It's Jordan who will have it forever.

Anyway, I've been trying to think of constructive ways to deal with staring. I'm offering kids the chance to ask questions when I see them whispering. I look people head on when I see them stare. If there are any inquisitive looks, I offer the person a chance to ask. It's the kids who don't know when to stop staring. I have a hard time. It's the grown up who does a double, triple take without saying something. I have a hard time.

But then I realized I have a staring problem too. Any time I walk by a person with any type of limb difference, I stare just a little too long because I feel connected to this person. BUT then I don't want to interrupt their day just because I want to say: "Hey! I have a little girl who belongs to your world! Can I be your friend?" A limb difference shouldn't be a person's identity. But yet, I want to identify with people who live in my town just because of their differences. Isn't it strange? No one writes a book on how to be a parent of a child with a "difference." I just want to do my best. I also hope I can help other parents so we can lean on each other... And make sure our kids can lean on each other.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hi,

My name is Michelle. My daughter was born like Jordan and I found your blog. I have been following it lately and, like you, want to know people understand what we go through as parents with kids like your Jordan and my Annabelle. I'd like to chat with you via e-mail if you are up for it.

Jordan is a beautiful little girl. As she grows, people will stare not because she is different, but because she is remarkable. Kids like her shine bright, and people are bound to notice.

Jen Lee Reeves said...

Michelle, I'd love to chat. Feel free to email me: laemom@gmail.com.

I'd love to talk anytime! This isn't an email I use often, but I promise to check it as often as possible to catch up with you.

Student of Life said...

So, maybe you should write the book. You've already given yourself a good start here with your blog. Every step you've taken is well-documented. Maybe you can use your gift as a communicator to educate others. That would be a great contribution, I think, and it would show Jordan that you feel very passionately about her, her difference, and how others view that difference.

Jen Lee Reeves said...

Hmmmm. I will give that some thought. About a month after Jordan was born, one of my former anchors said she was certain I'd write a book. I guess you both are right. I could give it a try.