My supports

What an exciting topic to think about. First, an update about my life in the last 2 weeks since our last blog assignment: my husband and I found out we are expecting our first child! So in light of this update, my supports have taken on a whole new meaning. I could not imagine my life without my husband. I have posted on several previous blogs all kinds of information about him, but he is my best friend and my rock. There is nothing we keep from each other: good, bad or indifferent. We talk about everything. If I would have never met him, my life would be completely different. If I were to ever lose him, I do not know how my life would look...especially now with a baby on the way. I also have an amazing support system with my family. And this support has only strengthened in the short time they have known about their first grandchild.
I was really interested to explore the idea of practical supports. I have a job that provides monetary support; as well as, my husband has a steady paycheck from the Marine Corps. I have a cell phone, ipad, several computers and other elements of technology that support daily routines. I have a security system to keep my home safe. I have a vet for my dog, a doctor for myself, and I will be finding another doctor for my baby. I have mentors at work. I have abilities to do things for myself and for others. If I need help around the house, I can ask my husband or use a stepstool, for example. If we cannot complete a task, we can ask for help from our neighbors/friends.
It is so hard to think of how I could function normally in my life with a challenge...in fact, I asked my husband, "If I had a challenge, what would it be? Give me a challenge." He told me to imagine I was blind. If I was born blind, I would have adapted to that lifestyle and would never know what it was like to see; however, if I were to go blind now, my life would change drastically, I do not know how I would recover from it. In order to function, I would need a physical change in my home: to better accomodate getting around; I would not be able to drive, nor would I be able to teach in child care without other staff members in the room to be my eyes. I would never see my baby. Given that I imagine my life without ever having a sense of sight, I would have learned very differently through school. Reading would have been different, as well as homework throughout the school years. I would not be able to live alone. My supports would look very different; however, they would still be beneficial to me to allow me to feel included in society.
My physical supports would be my house and my parents' house set up differently to accomodate me moving around more without bumping or tripping. My emotional supports would still include my husband and my family (although if I was born this way, I do not think my husband would be who it is now, if I were to even have one). It would also include therapists to support my emotional state of not being able to see. Practical supports would be very different, too. As I already mentioned, I would not drive, teach, or do many of the things I can do independently. Life would be so very different.
In reflection of thinking of such a lifestyle, it is enlightening to reconsider how I see inclusion for children. I want to provide supports for children with challenges....