Introducing Chantal Huinink

The following blog is written by Chantal Huinink.  She is a student who is doing a student placement with us.  She is currently pursuing a double masters program in social work and divinity at Wilfred Laurier University.  We are so glad to have her with us.  This is her introduction blog.  - Mark Wallace

Chantal’s Story

I have always appreciated how the account of Jesus's miraculous birth can provide solace to misfits and outcasts. Conversely the story of my birth might be likened to a blooper reel. Maybe that is why I enjoy comedy so much. The story you are about to read is true. The events contained within it were not altered in any way for dramatic emphasis. In fact, it is the seemingly ridiculous chain of events leading up to my birth and those that followed shortly thereafter which make me especially grateful that I am alive today. Further, I am particularly thankful to God that he has blessed me with wonderful experiences throughout my life and amazing opportunities to grow and develop, despite seemingly bleak beginnings.

At the age of 24, in the summer of 1983, my soon to be mother had barely entered her third trimester. As she was unmarried and without the support of a committed relationship, she was desperately trying to figure out how she might raise a child on her own. I was due in mid-October so she thought it would be wise to begin Lamaze training around mid-August. In the meantime, she continued working at a fishing lodge in Manitoba, Canada.  Even the best of plans fail to adequately prepare us when God has something else in mind.

July 31st, 1983 began as a work day like any other for my mother. She and her best friend, who I would later be named after, were employed as cooks at the fishing lodge. They intended to stay at the island lodge to prepare meals while all the guests and other staff were out fishing for the day. Then suddenly my mother's water broke. This is the point in the story where the location of my mother's work becomes significant. By this time my mother's boss and her best friend were the only ones around. They did not know what to do but they knew they better leave and get to a hospital quickly.  After all, they were not prepared to deliver a baby, especially not one who would be premature. Therefore, literally without a second thought, the three of them jumped into the only boat that was not being used for fishing that day. They were of course expecting to be rushed to the nearest hospital in Winnipeg at this point -if only the gas tank had sufficient fuel. My mother was furious and demanded to know why the boat was going so slow. Essentially the driver had decided it was better to get to the hospital at half throttle than be stuck in the middle of the lake. He let my mother assume that time was simply passing slowly.

When they finally arrived at the hospital the misadventure continued. The doctor who was supposed to deliver me was not expecting me to make my presence known for at least two months. It just so happened, that he was on a golfing vacation the week that I came into the world.  This meant that he was not reachable by hospital staff. In the meantime, the doctor’s interns were assigned to oversee his caseload. These young doctors had comparatively little experience with labour complications but they did know it was not safe for a baby to be born at 27 weeks gestation. Therefore, they quickly admitted my mother to the hospital and administered medication in order to delay my birth because my lungs were not yet fully developed. However, even remaining in the womb I was at significant risk because my mother's water had already broken, leaving little cushion from the outside world for me. Therefore, the interns decided to proceed with delivery using forceps on August 4, 1983. It is unknown whether this intervention was in my favour or not, as the stiff steel tongs might have caused additional damage to my brain in my very soft skull. I was small, weighing only 2 lbs. 13 oz. at birth, but miraculously I was alive.   

Following this I spent two months in an incubator. Given the technology of the time, there was only a 50% chance that I would live more than a few days. I fought so hard for my life that the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit nurses awarded me the nickname Tiger. When I went home to live with my mother I was not yet diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy, however characteristic symptoms of this disability such as my stiff arms and legs were noted by others as extremely cute.

           

At approximately 8 months of age I was diagnosed with Spastic Quadriplegic Cerebral Palsy. In plain English, the extent of my impairments is such that I am not able to walk. I have minimal fine motor skills, and low vision. Despite my challenges, my mother believed it was important to raise me according to the same standards that she would have held for an able-bodied child. Therefore I learned to use my first power wheelchair at the age of two and I began attending mainstream school when I was five years old. I was always told that God has a good plan for me as it says in Jeremiah 29:11. I was also continually reminded that I can do anything I set my mind to, with the help of the Lord, like it says in Philippians 4:13.

I grew up thinking that I was just like everyone else and throughout childhood I wholeheartedly believed this. My visual impairment was in some ways beneficial to me because I rarely noticed anyone's reaction to my differences. However, as I entered puberty my appearance became more important to me and I took more notice of some of my physical features which appear different compared to most people. Although I continue to trust in the Lord, I somehow developed the mistaken idea that fulfilling God's plan for my life meant minimizing my disability as much as possible so that I could compete with or at least measure up to able-bodied people.

What I failed to recognize at the time is that God does not make mistakes. Rather, He works all things, not just some things which appear perfect, together for the good of those who love him, as it says in Romans 8:28. I believe that means that the Lord intended me to have cerebral palsy for the good of myself and others. Furthermore, the book of Esther demonstrates that seemingly unfortunate circumstances are ordained for specific divine purposes.

The scriptural teaching which I have internalized that relates to my disability has transformed my understanding of God's love for me and his will for my life. Where I once was focused on minimizing my disability and finding a job that I could do in spite of my limitations, I am now investing in a role which will utilizes both the challenges I have overcome and those that are still a part of my life. I am privileged to be serving as an intern in both the Pastoral Ministries Department and West District Office as a student placement until August 2012. I look forward to sharing reflections with you from time to time.

Have a blessed day!

Chantal Huinink