1961 BABY

[Readon]

OK our son was born in 1961, albeit on the last day of November a week before my 20th birthday and week after his fathers. A pretty baby, fair, blue eyed, clear skinned, past full term, looked like a winner among the other babies who looked not quite ready for the world. Consequentially it took a long time to accept how fast they'd overtake. Still a bit overwhelming we were responsible for this bundle of dependancy. We took him home to two rooms in St. Pauls a not very salubrious bit of old Bristol. We had no bathroom and shared a toilet with Ann Irish couple downstairs. How did we manage, not very well. Husband Charlie despite good O levels (Good O levels were like a degree in 1961) from public school I'd met at a jazz club w looked like a beatnik. A bit before an the invention of beatniks so looked like a a tramp. He was well spoken however which impressed my father, I wasn't, which upset his mother. He cried a lot this pretty baby, people remarked on it. I cried quite a bit myself. This was harder than I'd expected. My fatehr shocked by our accommodation got us a council in Long Ashton where Id been born and brought up. We moved with our banshee baby. We sat up all night beside his cot, we took it in turn to go out. My mother was up the hill and a great support but seemed to think were mismanaging. "I had four of you but all of you put together weren't as much trouble as Guy," she once admitted however. It seemed no one was as much trouble as Guy, my best friend had a baby. She'd find out. But baby Julie seemed no trouble at all. She was nine months younger than Guy but was soon overtaking him. This was serious. Though girls I read somewhere were quicker off post boys caught up later. He wasn't talking. Einstein was a late talker I read somewhere, reassuringly. "He cries a lot" I said to the Doctor. "All babies cry," he replied as though I hadn't caught on.

[forgetmeknot]

Been there, done that, got the wallpaper and duvet cover. My little miracle came into the world in 1959, the dark age, where "different" babies were usually consigned to the waste tip. She was born at home, the local maternity service was inadequate, if you had a bathroom in your home forget it. She was premature, weighed in at 4lbs. severely shocked, No medical intervention to help her, No support, no help, no information. Your baby, get on with it.

So we did. She was not ever going to walk, talk, know us. She had no intellect, was not expected to make double figures. True, has a SLD, is non verbal, displays challenging behaviour, multiple health issues, double incontinence. However, she has just had her 60th birthday. We partied for 2 weeks with family and friends. Last night we went to the local Italian restaurant, enjoying a good meal, dancing and prancing to an Elvis tribute. We have had to fight authority for everything for her, and we are still having to. She is loved, treasured, and in return she radiates happiness and pleasure to those willing to accept it.

[Pasrel in reply to forgetmeknot]

I was born in the 'dark ages'' and know what you mean.

Why should we have to fight for a person's rights to a good life? Ryan was put in the work group because he plays football! Forget everything else. I had to deal with losing my wife and fighting those idiots who changed their minds before we went to a tribunal. And social services are too worried about being PC to do their jobs and support people.

[Pasrel]

Ryan was perfect until 6 months. His pituitary gland stopped producing the hormones he needed hence his mental and physical problems. Found that out when he was 30. Told her never walk, talk or achieve anything. I told the consultant he was an idiot and got a second opinion and they still couldn't find out what was wrong. He now plays football, walks dogs, and doesn't stop talking. BUT his aggressive behaviour is becoming too much for me to cope with. Now he wont behave for his sisters either. Another fight coming with authorities. I was told if he went out and punched someone in the street I could get anything I need to help him. So why cant they help when your struggling?

I hope your little one turned out to be happy.

[forgetmeknot in reply to Pasrel]

My little one is a total joy, she is fabulous. She is happy, (as long as I do as I am told-just kidding). Her beloved daddy has Vascular Dementia/Alzheimer, sadly, he has recently had to go into care, his condition deteriorated rapidly, leaving me unable to manage both of them at home. She has coped with this separation better than I have, her ability to understand still amazes me, even now. Our aim has always been for her to have a happy and fulfilled life, to the limits of her capabilities. It's been hard at times, but well worth the effort. She has gifted us with so much love and pleasure, she is a blessing.

I sincerely hope that you are able to manage to get the help you both need and deserve.