Today was a good day. Zachariah had so much fun at nursery seeing his friends, getting creative with the paint and messy with the sensory foam. It makes me so happy to hear about his more interactive days, days when he’s really wanted to get stuck into the activities and join in with his peers. We sang all the way home and chatted about his day, then laughed as we walked over the bumpy road round to our home. It was here that we were greeted by a big box just sitting there by the front door, staring at us. I knew instantly what this box was and immediately shut down and started to feel the strong emotions of reality flood over me. Reality that my son was going to be in nappies all of his life.
We have always had an understanding that Zachariah may never come to grips with toilet training, and even accepted it to a certain extent, but at the same time, I’ve never felt how soon it would be that we would have to face the realities of it. Having limited core strength and struggling to sit unaided it was evident that he wouldn’t be able to sit on a toilet. And having no understanding of when he needed to fill his nappy and little understanding of when he had filled it, made it clear he wouldn’t be able to grasp the idea of communicating with us when he needed to go to the bathroom. Nappies and pads were always going to be the solution to Zachariah’s continence care. So why was it such a shock to see the delivery of our first medical nappies?
I guess now we’re in the age bracket when a lot of children move from nappies to pull ups and they’re starting to explore the toilet or maybe they’re even start using the toilet, it pains me to see the largest nappy I’ve ever seen delivered to my front door instead of a potty, story books on toilet training and fancy bum wipes that I see alot of parents buy for their toddlers. There’s no reward chart stuck on the wall to tally up all the successful trips to potty and no discussion of where our poo comes from. I hear it all sounding rather ridiculous as I type this, but I really am craving that silly weewee and poopoo chat with my growing boy that I hear my friends children have with their parents. I sit and wonder how harder it will be to change him as he grows ever so quickly and how he’ll never have that independence to go to the toilet in peace by himself. I just find it odd how I have always known this was going to happen but it is only now I see the true reality of my son not being able to take himself to the bathroom. To end this short blog I want to just stress how much Changing Places are needed for my boy and many, many more people out there who cannot take themselves to a toilet, as this reality comes with many challenges as it is without the fear of going somewhere and having to change them on a dirty floor. Without Changing Places we are limited to what we can do to help our loved ones live exciting and adventurous lives.
It would make my day if everyone of you reading this would not only like and share my blog, but also, the next time you are visiting somewhere ask them if they have a Changing Place..If they do thank them for their inclusion and spread the word. If they do not, then please take 5 minutes of your time to educate them on the need to have one for those who cannot take themselves to the toilet. A Changing Place is roughly the size of a parking space proving people with disabilities with a bench and hoist to be safely changed. Together we can make a difference.
Thank you for reading! Much love. Rochelle.