Morning bells are ringing, morning bells are ringing,
Ding, ding, dong. Ding, ding, dong.
“Oh, are these twins?”
“Yes.”
“A boy and a girl?”
“No, two girls.”
“Oh, look! This one is WIDE awake, and this one is sleepy.”
“Yes…”
By the time we were able to take the babies out into public, it had become obvious to me that Sophia’s eyes, usually downcast, were not seeing things in a typical manner. Since that time, when the girls are in their side-by-side double stroller, strangers have engaged me in the conversation outlined above time after time, after time. Especially since I thought the same thing at first, I understand the sentiment. They make the comments with a smile. They have no way of knowing that every other person to approach us makes the same observation – one awake baby and one sleeping baby.
The problem is, here is what I hear: “One of your babies looks cute, smiley, and typical. What a miracle considering she began life at less than two pounds. The other one, while also cute, doesn’t look at me because she is effectively blind. She looks like she is sleeping, but in reality the environment is simply too much for her to take in, and she closes down. She also can’t move her body in the same way as her sister. She is atypical. Poor baby.”
April & Sophia (who does hold a bottle when her hands are positioned for her - yea!!!)
I understand that this has more to do with my journey of acceptance of my daughter’s differences than it does what anyone else thinks. I also imagine that, one day soon, some people will simply look away when they see Sophia because it will be obvious that something is “wrong.” In fact, the tide is already beginning to change. Recently, people have begun asking how far apart in age the girls are, because April looks older (although their heights and weights are nearly identical, April’s head is bigger and her development is much more advanced).
So, please, keep telling me that Sophia is just sleeping. Maybe we will all wake up one of these days.
Sophia's pretty eye, open wide