Dear Kara, I guess we first noticed something was "different" when you were still inside your mothers tummy. Nothing too out of the ordinary, just little things, you know? You didn't like loud noises, nor did you like to sit still, lol. I would hold your momma's stomach, and tell you that I was right there, and that nothing would ever hurt you. Little did I know that the enemy had already slipped underneath my tight radar. An evil beast had already attacked my precious Angel, as I slept, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I had failed to keep you safe, and didn't even realize it, yet...
During delivery, you were not a happy camper. I'm not sure what was upsetting you, but before you entered this world, and soon after, I could tell that something just wasn't right. "She looks great!" the doctor told your mother and me, so we took you home as the proudest parents in the city! You were so beautiful, I wanted to take you everywhere I went, and just show the world "what a baby girl is SUPPOSED to look like!" lol. Little things told us that something was wrong, but we both ignored them, instead relying on the doctors that gave you a clean bill of health every check-up that we took you to.
At the age of three, your mother and I decided to get help with trying to figure out what was wrong with our littlest Angel. You wouldn't speak, wouldn't eat anything but certain foods, the blank stares, showing no emotion, and most of the clothes we tried to dress you in drove you crazy, lol. Your pediatrition insisted that everything was "A-OK", but we knew better, something was wrong with our baby girl. If we bought you a doll to play with, you discarded it, and instead, played with the packaging it came in. Many more "signs" told us to get you some help now.
I will never forget the morning that we took you to the local Children's Hospital, considered the best in the midwest. We were anxious to hear that our baby was just fine, and that we, as parents were making a big deal out of nothing. They ran tests, took some of your blood, which you were not happy about one bit, then told us it would be a short wait, and that they would meet with us later. "Okie Dokie, sounds kool to me!" We tried to occupy your time as we waited to get the all clear signal, and go home to forget the whole ordeal.
"Mr. and Mrs. Rains, your daughter is severely mentally retarded, and "Autistic". "WTF? What is Autistic?" "It means", the bitch said, "that when your daughter is 40 years old, she'll have the capabilities of a 4 year old!" I wanted to knock her right out of her fucking chair! How dare she talk about MY daughter that way. I heard your mother let out a scream, and that got my mind off what I wanted to say to that hateful doctor. Your mother went to pieces, I have never heard anybody cry like that before this day, or since. Right then I decided if we BOTH fell apart, that would not do you much good at all, so I swore to myself that I would never cry, or treat you as anything but a normal little girl.
Oh the fun we had, mowing the lawn, with you "marching" out in front of the mower, catching bugs and snakes, baking, doing crafts, working puzzles, watching the "tool man show" every Saturday, learning to poop in the potty like a big girl, and teaching you to bathe yourself, will be etched in my brain forever. I had you potty trained by the time you were four years old, when it wasn't even supposed to be attempted until you turned nine. I taught you how to count money, and how to read a tape measure, something the "experts" said was impossible. When you'd put your poop in a jar, and hide it up in the closet, causing your mother to go ballistic...screaming "you're crazy, and need to be put in a home!" I'd just laugh and say, "Baby Doll, you're not going anywhere, you're gonna stay right here with me..."
I have been yelled at, spit upon, and laughed at for treating you like a normal little girl. I believe you are who you are today, because of that. But if I am wrong, I am so very sorry. If treating you as a "severely handicapped person" would have helped you in some way, I would gladly do it all over again. You see, your dad was not ready for what landed in his lap that day, I did the very best I could. Not alot was known about your condition back then. I read everything I could get my hands on, but nothing gave me the answers I was looking for. I love you with my whole heart, Kara, always have...always will. You will always be the very best thing that I ever had anything to do with making. You are my life, you are my soul, you are my littlest Angel... love, Dad
