Credit goes to Cindy Meyer Bruckner for this find. Published on Today’s Parenting Team Page. Thank you Cindy.
As we enter the playground area, your child immediately points to mine, calling loudly, “Mom, look at HER!”
You quickly hush him, calling him to you to quietly reprimand him.
You’re at the end of the same grocery store aisle when your child catches a glimpse at the baby in my cart and asks, “Why is that baby so red?”
You practically put your hand over his mouth to stop as much of the question as you can while hurrying around the corner without looking back.
Your children freeze, staring open-mouthed at my daughter at the library, and you get a rising panic in your eyes as you try to distract them to look anywhere but.
I recognize all of this unfolding, nearly every day. I hear all of the questions. I glimpse all of the pointing out of the corner of my eye. I notice all of the whispered comments.
My 5-year-old daughter Brenna was born with a genetic skin disorder called Harlequin ichthyosis, which means her skin doesn’t work well and builds up too quickly. The rare condition leaves her susceptible to infections, unable to sweat, and with an appearance that looks like a severe sunburn all over her body.
Because of this, Brenna is the recipient of comments, questions, and stares nearly daily, and as her mother, I feel it all deep within my heart. And it makes it worse when you then try to “hide” it from me, from us
the rest of the story . . .
wp.me/pcSxKh-Xl
Seen, yet Not Heard 