Baby Steps

A moment of sadness. It was a very quick fleeting moment but I had it nonetheless. I'm not sure what it was exactly but I felt it and then quickly it was gone.

I attended a preview music class at our local Gymboree. I did many of these types of classes with Diego and Mateo when they were young and it was a fun way to meet new parents and babies around the same age. This was my first time taking Joaquin to a formal class setting where I didn't know the teacher or at least one parent in the group. I am a member of a local parent's group in town where I attend lots of different play groups and events with parents and children that I know quite well but I wanted to try something new with Joaquin, to take a step out of my comfort zone.

This Gymboree music class was unchartered territory for me, a brand new experience for the two of us....our first step toward full inclusion. Why not take him to a "typical" music class for a baby his age? I signed up for a free preview class while Diego and Mateo were both in school. It was a great class and the teacher had an amazing voice. At the start of the class, we sat down to smiling faces all around, lots of cute babies and moms. The teacher started off with a welcome song. It was then that I felt a pang of emotion. I began to tear up and I'm not sure why. I would call it a moment of sadness but maybe it was just a moment of all sorts of emotions wrapped up into one....fear, anxiety, sadness, shyness, pride, hormones? It's moments like these where I am faced head on with the reality that I am on a different journey than most of the people around me. It can feel very lonely. On the one hand, I want to include Joaquin in as many of the same experiences that I participated in with Diego and Mateo and then at the same time, I see a benefit to attending classes or events surrounded by parents who understand our situation and are "walking the same walk" as I am with their own special children. I can see how both scenarios could be beneficial.

Throughout the class, Joaquin was mainly interested in looking at me, watching my face. So I just immersed myself in the moment and it was as if it was just the two of us in the class. Occasionally a mother would ask me "How old is he?" or "He's so cute" and I would return with my own curious questions about their little ones but otherwise it was a special time for Joaquin and me. Focusing in on Joaquin grounded me and I felt more stable in my emotions....I was able to hold it together but a very small part of me just wanted to get out of the room and back to our comfort zone. We stayed and we ended up having a wonderful time. We focused on the moment and living it. The here and the now.

When I try and get to the root of what my feelings were during the beginning of class, it's really hard. I think I've been living in sort of a protected bubble this past year. I've surrounded myself with my support system of friends and family and neighbors, even fellow bloggers, and it has all been a very safe place to be. As I start to venture out into the world and as I take the steps that need to be taken for Joaquin, I'm a bit afraid of what might be out there. I'm afraid of the ignorance and the cruelty.

But maybe the tears that started to well up in me as the Gymboree class sang out Joaquin's name and we sat there, the two of us happy and healthy and living our lives, were also tears of hope. Hope that perhaps everything will be o.k. We were taking our first baby steps together.