Going Out

When I first began carrying MOMO everywhere I was completely exhausted. Though she weighed only 17 pounds, my fatigue was more than physical. I miscalculated how much “headspace” life with MOMO would require. I was unprepared for the severe reduction in pace and the unpredictable nature of each and every day. All things took longer and required more patience and energy than I had allotted. Even mothering small children never slowed me down to this degree. No sooner had I resolved the logistics for one activity than I was forced to begin strategizing for the next. Wherever I went, I was humbled both by the scathing judgment of others and, on the other hand, helpful and tender responses. Though I tried to be fluid, I could not escape the clumsiness of my efforts. I had not considered how quickly a minor disruption could create negative attention, or how quickly a spectacle can form. I was completely unprepared for the ways in which MOMO burst my “invisibility” bubble, drawing attention, both positive and negative. Very quickly, I came to understand many of the perceptual barriers experienced by both people with disabilities and those that care for them.