I want to share a little Miranda story. My girl was well known for making declarations over people. She had this gift for making profound statements about friends and family. This is the story of one she made over me a few months before she was diagnosed with the tumor that would take her life.
I was sitting at my kitchen table paying bills and working on the family budget. My Miranda came bounding into the room. She stood by the table watching me work for a moment. Slowly, she tested the waters to see how engaged I was in my work.
“Mom?” she started.
“Hmmmmm?” I didn’t look up. I figured she was about to ask for a snack or something so I didn’t need to stop.
“I’ve decided something!” she announced. But that was it. I was going to have to give her my full attention if I wanted to know what that something was. So I put down my pen and gave her my full attention.
“Oh, what’s that?”
“I’ve decided you’re not a mama bear. You know how everyone says that moms turn into bears and defend their kids like a bear with her cubs? You’re not a bear.” she made her declaration and then stopped to see how I would react.
“I’m not?” was my only reply. But all kinds of thoughts swirled through my head. Had I not been defending my cubs lately? Was I slacking off? Why would she think I wasn’t a mama bear?
The answer came right away. “You’re not a mama bear because you’re something else.” This girl!
I looked at her, waiting to hear what I was. This should be good. Miranda declarations usually were something to behold.
“You’re a mamma hippo!” she declared with fervor.
“Because I’m fat? Or because I like to swim?” I was teasing her, but I was also amused by the idea. I didn’t quite understand what she was getting at. Like many people, I underestimated the hippopotamus. I had no idea those big cute animals were anything but just that.
“NNOOOO!!” she yelled. “Don’t you know anything about hippos? Hippos are the most territorial and fierce mammals on the planet. They have been know to drown lions and tear apart crocodiles. A mamma hippo will kill for her baby. She’s way meaner than any old bear, Mom. And you? You are definitely a hippo.”
She had even done research. She went on and on with facts about the hippopotamus. Did I know that hippos were the third largest land animal? Only the elephant and rhino are bigger. Hippos spend most of the day in water, coming out at night to eat grass. Hippos are very territorial and will defend their turf fiercely, especially if they have a baby. She was especially impressed with the part about how a mother hippo will open her mouth wide to warn other animals that they’re too close.
“Even the lions and crocodiles back off when her mouth is open like that, Mom. They’d be stupid to come at her when she’s mad. She could tear them apart. Can you imagine her dragging a lion in under the water. A lion? The king of the jungle lion. It reminds me of the story you told me about how you jumped over me at that student doctor who tried to poke me one more time when I was in leukemia treatments. Remember Mom? The boss nurse told him to wait for the head doctor but he was gonna try again when she turned her back. You said you grabbed his hand and wouldn’t let him stick me again with the needle. Remember that? You’re a mama hippo!” She was so proud of her declaration.
At that she bounded out of the room leaving me awestruck. I sat there thinking about how my child had watched me on countless occasions defend my territory, defend my baby hippos. The story she had recounted came flooding back. It was so long ago, yet she had most of the details right. The man was a first year resident (if memory serves me) who was determined to preform a spinal tap that day on Miranda. He seemed to have something to prove that day, but I never really knew what that was. The nurse practitioner (maybe Miranda’s term “boss nurse” is better?) had stopped him because the hospital had a 3 strikes rule for all care providers, not just those learning. After 3 failed attempts, the procedure was to stop and evaluation of the situation was to take place to see the best way to move forward, if at all, that day. She had left the room to talk to the attending doctor to decide how to proceed. This young, arrogant man was so determined to complete the spinal tap that he prepared to make another attempt after being told to stop, and while unsupervised. When I figured out what he was up to I lunged at him from the other side of the exam table and swatted at his arm, knocking the syringe out of his hand, creating a lot of noise, and startling everyone left in the room, including myself and my child.
I guess there was reason to believe I’m a mama hippo. I had definitely gone above and beyond just mama bear mode that day. And that was certainly not the only example of me getting territorial and showing my hippo powers. There’s plenty more stories like that one to be recounted some day.
It’s true that every mother has had to defend her children. It’s just fact. Things happen in this life that require our intervention. Mama bear mode is common place for so many of us. But, as Miranda pointed out, I’m a mom who’s had to go beyond bear mode. Special needs moms are thrown into a world with many more obstacles to hurdle. We have lots of lions and crocodiles in our jungles. There are specialty doctors, therapists, social workers, school administrators, and staff we have to deal with. Sometimes those professionals don’t agree with us parents. Often the more specialized those professionals are, the more growling they do. They feel that their expertise makes them the king of their jungle or the crocodile of their river. But never underestimate the power of a territorial mama hippo.
Hear me out. I’m not saying to go through life thinking you always know best. I absolutely encourage parents to work with professionals as cooperatively as is possible. However, I also recognize that there are times and situations where you know your child is not being seen, where you are not being heard. You know your child best. Don’t be afraid to stand in that. While professionals may have more knowledge about conditions and prospective treatments, you know if those treatments will fit your child and your family life. Trust what you know, and defend it. Defend it like a hippo.
How about you? Are you a mamma hippo? Have you needed to warn those in your jungle of exactly who you are? Sometimes life just requires that we drown the lions and crocodiles in our river. Or that we at least show them that we could, if we needed to. Show them how fierce you are. Open your mouth when you need to. It’s okay to defend our little hippos. Special needs children require us to be hippo-level territorial. I now wear the title of Mama Hippo proudly. In fact, I want it on a T-shirt.
