Friday, July 7, 2017

The Reality of Having a Child with Developmental Delays

If you’re in any parenting forums online, you know that every third post from a new parent is in regard to concerns about development. It’s a natural concern because delays could indicate major problems, right? Well-meaning moms and dads reassure that every child develops at their own pace, the child will be fine, and other parents/family members who mentioned a concern need to mind their own business. I am the mom who reads the post and thinks, “It might not be okay. Your child could be like my child, and you could be at the start of a road you never expected to take.”

Now don’t get me wrong, children do develop on their own individual timelines, and most of those timelines are typical. But some aren’t. My 6 year old daughter has motor and speech delays, and without going into a medical history (which would be a LONG post), suffice it to say I’m an authority on a child who doesn’t follow a typical timeline.

Whether your children are typically developing or are following a different developmental path, we all have our challenges – yours are different than mine. But if you have a friend or family member who has a child with special needs, please keep reading. Navigating this world is lonely and a constant battle (both internally and externally). Here’s some insight into that world.

1.  I’m excited for your child’s progress, but my heart breaks a little bit each time I hear about it. My twin nieces are 6 weeks younger than my daughter, and my sister and I had a tough time navigating through their developmental successes. She had been keeping me in the loop, but then I learned they took their first steps and she didn’t tell me. I was crushed. She didn’t want to tell me because she knew it would make me sad, but I explained that just because it hurt that my daughter wasn’t there yet (and at that point, I wasn’t sure she’d ever walk), I wanted to celebrate my nieces’ successes. So don’t cut me out, but know that I’m going to have an emotional war raging inside of me when you tell me.

2.  Just listen. If I open up to you about the last doctor’s appointment, test, therapy session, or small success my child had, for the love of all that’s holy, just listen. Please do not tell me about a friend who had a child with special needs or take the opportunity to brag on your own child. There is a time for that. When I’m telling you something private about my struggles, that’s not the time.

3.  Stop asking how you can help. I will never respond by telling you how you can help because I don’t want to be a burden. But you know what you can do? You can tell me you’d like to come babysit on Friday night so my husband and I can go out on a date. Because our marriage may be strained close to the point of breaking because…

4.  The divorce rate is higher for parents of children with special needs. It’s not because of the child, but it may be because of the stresses associated with each person differently processing this life we’re living that we didn’t anticipate. The more time parents of children with special needs can spend together rekindling their relationship, the better they are able to weather the storm.

5.   Don’t give me advice. Sorry, but if you are not living this life, you don’t get to tell me how to manage it. It’s as simple as this – if I only have girls, I can’t have a qualified opinion on how to raise boys. I can have an opinion, of course, but it’s not a qualified one. So I should keep it to myself.

6.   I love my child as much as you do. I may have days of struggling with her diagnosis or challenges, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love her for who she is. My child is an extraordinary blessing, and I’m not minimizing that by feeling the pressures associated with her unique challenges.

7.  Don’t make assumptions about my child or my parenting based upon how she looks or behaves. My daughter “looks normal” but will not answer a question if you ask her. I have a friend who has a child with cerebral palsy, and while his body doesn’t work, his brain is sharp as a tack. Don’t stare at either child trying to figure out what’s “wrong” with them, and please, when my child is throwing a fit on the floor or sobbing in the grocery store, don’t give me the evil eye because you think I’m just a bad parent. I’ve got enough going on – your judgments are not helpful.

We are all doing the best we can navigating the waters of being a parent. Hopefully this insight into a world that is different than yours will help you better understand how to support someone who is walking this path, as well. 

Next time you read a post on a parenting forum from a concerned parent who notices that her child seems to be delayed in movement, speech, etc., don’t just reply that the child will be fine. Encourage the parent to visit her pediatrician just to discuss concerns. Your comment could be the nudge that parent needed to validate her mom-instinct and start getting early intervention if it’s necessary. Every child deserves the best chance at succeeding and destigmatizing “special needs” is a very important first step.


Please share your thoughts and questions – I’d love to hear what you have to say!

This is an article I wrote for one of the blogs to which I regularly contribute - check it out here!

Wednesday, November 9, 2016

Love Trumps Hate

It has been a long time since I last wrote a post; life has been busy and messy and hard, and I've not taken the time to share any of that. That will be a different post for a different time.

Why am I writing again now? Because I am heartsick over the results of the election last night. I know some of you reading this are Trump supporters, but most of you reading this are not. Nothing I say is meant to offend if you are happy with the outcome, but please be respectful in comments that you feel compelled to make to my very raw feelings and thoughts.

The Trump supporters I know are all white. They are married to a white spouse of the opposite sex. And they do not have children with special needs. I cannot pretend to know what it's like to know exactly how a black person or Latino person or Muslim person feels about the hatred spewed forth out of Trump's mouth and the mouths of his most gregarious supporters. I cannot pretend to know what it's like to be fearful that my marriage will be declared unconstitutional and be no longer recognized. I have friends in those situations, and I need them to know how much I love them and will fight as I am able for their human rights.

What I do know is what it feels like to be the parent of a child with special needs and know that the man that has been elected to be president of this country would make fun of her disability. My heart and brain cannot rationalize the pain I feel that the majority of this country believes that hateful man is a good decision. And you know what? If you feel differently and you are white, and you are married to a white spouse of the opposite sex, and you do not have a child or someone in your family with a developmental disability, I kindly ask you to keep your mouth shut. You may pretend to know what it's like to live this life, but you don't. And it's wildly offensive for you to keep pretending you do.

I pray that his advisors will provide some modicum of reason to his presidency. I pray that 99% of the disgusting actions and words he has shown us were the actor in him and somehow a normal human being will show up to lead this country. I pray his vile supporters who vomit hate and intolerance will somehow crawl back into the holes from which they came and allow the rest of us to go on to show love and tolerance to the oppressed.

God, please bless America. We need it.

Sunday, November 29, 2015

Fitting In

As we get older, we think that issues that plagued us as children and teenagers get easier.  We know that being part of the "in" crowd does not matter near as much as providing for our families and living lives of character.  But for so many people, fitting in remains important.

Having a child with special needs is lonely.  It means you never fit in.  No one (other than your spouse or partner), even another parent with a child with special needs, can completely understand your struggles.  It means going to birthday parties where you are surrounded by typically developing children and trying not to cry while watching them play games.  It means talking with other parents and feeling proud of their kids accomplishments and simultaneously sorry for yourself that you may never experience them with one of your kids.  And then feeling like a terrible person because you can't stop thinking about yourself and your issues long enough to be happy for someone else.

And I also don't feel like I did in with parents who have children with special needs.  Maybe it's simply because I don't want to fit with them.  Which is also terrible.  My sister recently suggested I find a support group while she and I were talking about my recent struggles, and I told her that I am so emotionally exhausted that I worry a support group will make it worse.  I want to be supportive of other parents living with their unique littles, but will I leave feeling more emotionally depleted hearing of their struggles?

And in the midst of everything, I feel like I have so much to be thankful for that I should not be so Eeoyre about my life.  What is that teaching my kids?

Please just know, friends, that I spend every second of every day conflicted.  I love you and your precious blessings.  I want to hear about their successes.  But a part of me remains selfish and feels sad.  And a smaller part of me than before remains hopeful that Bug will get there.  So please be patient with me.



Monday, June 15, 2015

Horses'll Get You

Bug has an affinity toward horses.  She has four hard plastic horses given to her by her grandparents, two brown, two gray (which she calls blue).  The last few days, she has been very focused on her gray horses.  She likes to hold two things at the same time, so it is one horse in each hand.

Things have been a little off in our world lately, and she has been stressed.  She is more emotional than normal and is acting out.  This morning, before Mister woke up, she spent about 20 minutes very upset, repeatedly saying "baby."  She had a new stuffed unicorn from a friend which she would give to me and say "baby."  I asked her to show me what she wanted, and I finally realized it was the gray horses.

Tonight, we were getting ready for bed, and she hit Mister with the horses.  He brushed it off - no big deal.  I was watching him to see it he was okay, and the next thing I knew, she threw them at my face.  She hit me so hard that I got a fat lip.  I took the horses and said she cannot have them back because she hurts people with them.  She was so sad, and I felt so badly for her, but my mouth really hurt.

I am sad that my almost 5 year old hurts me.  I am sad that she hurts her brother who lies down next to her and tells her he loves her.  And I am sad for her that she doesn't yet know how to control her emotions and her reactions to how she feels.  I am sad that she is sad and I cannot help her.  I think that may be one of the most difficult parts of having a child with special needs.  I want to help her, and sometimes, I just don't have the slightest inkling how.  And that feels like I fail.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Kisses

Before kids, I was that person who thought it was really strange when parents kissed their kids on the lips.  I cannot recall ever kissing my parents on the lips.  Then I had Bug.  And those beautiful, perfect, baby lips were about more than I could handle.  I literally wanted to kiss my gorgeous baby every second of every day.

When Mister arrived, it was no different.  To match his perfect little lips were perfect, round, chubby baby cheeks.  No joke.  Those cheeks were the roundest little cheeks you've ever seen.  And their skin!  How is anything that soft?

Mister has returned kisses for quite some time now.  I just look at him with pursed lips, and I am rewarded with a sweet little kiss from my boy.  And I just cannot get enough of it.  

My sweet Bug blows kisses.  She makes a kissy face, says "mwah," and sometimes puts her hand up to her mouth to send the kiss sailing over to you.

Except last night.  Last night, Jeremy and I had the (lately) rare opportunity to put the kids to bed together.  He was holding Bug, and she said, "Mama."  I went over to her, and she wrapped her tiny little arms around Jeremy and me, grinned her breathtakingly perfect little smile, and said "Family." (Sorry, grammar police - it deserves caps.)  Then, she proceeded to kiss me, at least four times.  Most of the kisses were me kissing her chin, and her kissing right above my mouth, but I will take it.  

I have goosebumps even now thinking about it.  Something so small as a kiss, and it will fill my heart for the rest of forever - thinking about the first time my funny, sweet, kind, sunshiney little girl kissed me and really seemed to realize what she was doing and why.  Thank you, God, for the gift.

Monday, January 12, 2015

Moments That Make My Heart Burst

From conversations I've had, I seem to be one of the few parents (at least among my friends) who is enamored with the newborn baby phase.  Often, I hear, "I do better when they can communicate with me."  I would argue that newborns communicate just fine, with eye contact, cries, snuggles, etc.  There is something for me about feeling the weight of the incredible gift and responsibility bestowed upon me is more than enough.

As my kids have gotten older, they clearly prefer their daddy.  And my heart hurts at little moments throughout the day because of it.  I am the parent they see much less frequently due to my job, and while that is a contributing factor, I am also less fun.  I have to remind myself that the laundry can wait, and it is okay if the house looks a mess.  My husband is more carefree than I am, and he helps me keep things in perspective.  Even still, there are lots of moments where I can't help but feel that I am the black sheep and my kids would not so much care if I was around or not.  Then there are those moments that make my heart burst.  Those times that something so beautiful happens that I can hardly contain my joy.  Here are my top ten heart bursting moments.

10.  I remain the go-to after injuries.  It is heart-breaking that they are in pain, but it is heart-bursting that they turn to me for comfort.

9.  The first voicemail I received after starting work back in the office this summer (I worked from home before that), where Bug said "Hi Ma," and Mister said "Love you.  Miss you."  It will be saved forever.

8.  Bug's face lighting up when she sees us, even now every day when I get home from work.  There is nothing more breathtaking than her face.  She radiates light.

7.  Mister being so thrilled to play in the snow that numerous times, he proclaims, "I'm excited!"  Doesn't sound like much?  The look on his face to match was more than I could handle.  I would have given him anything he wanted in that moment.

6.  Bug's sad face (particularly when she is embarrassed).  In those moments, I think to myself, "how can I love a person this much?"  I would do whatever it takes to make it better.

5.  Mister singing Happy Birthday and giving you what he deems a cake (usually a toy of some sort).  Daily.  Sometimes numerous times a day.

4.  Bug hitting Mister, me telling her to apologize and give him a hug, and Mister (while crying) leaning in for a hug and telling Bug "I love you so much."  As if he did something wrong.

3. Bug's hugs around my leg.  Usually accompanied by her saying "Aww, Mommy."

2.  Their laughter.  Every.  Single.  Time.  It could be the secret to world peace.

1.  Mister has a lovey called Blue Blanket.  It is so loved that Santa brought him a new one this year.  However, new Blue Blanket doesn't hold a candle to old Blue Blanket.  Mister bumped his head yesterday, and old Blue Blanket was in the dryer (it was darn near standing on its own).  This was, of course, a tragedy.  The rest of the day was trying, to say the least.  Then, at bedtime, Mister said to me, "Good job washing my Blue Blanket, Mommy.  Thank you for washing my Blue Blanket."  That'll last me awhile...

I would love to hear your heart-bursting moments!!  Please feel free to leave a comment!

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

My due...

Anyone who was less than perfect as a child (and really, who was perfect as a child?) has heard from their parents that they will get their due when they have their own kids.  My family likes to share all kinds of lovely stories about me: cracking my head on a metal door frame after climbing on an unsteady decorative table, drinking my sister's perfume, eating poison berries from a neighbor's plant, climbing up on the counter (using the drawers as stairs) to eat a cake my mom made for a baby shower, and lying.  I mean, lying all the time as a young child.  Lying to get my older sister in trouble and keep myself out of it.  Telling my best friend's mom that my mom told me I could come over, only for my mom to call 2 minutes later, frantic, because she could not find me (they only lived next door).  I was not an easy child, to say the least.

We have challenges with Bug, but they are very different.  I didn't quite appreciate what my parents went through with me until Mister came along.  He is in the full throes of the terrible twos, and oooh boy...  This past Memorial Day weekend, the kids and I were getting ready to drive 5 hours for my best friend's wedding shower, but Jeremy (my husband) wasn't able to join us.  He pulled the lawn mower out of the shed to mow after we left, and while we were loading the car, Mister managed to disconnect the gas hose.  Bug loves liquids, so she was reveling in the gasoline puddle on the ground - I have no clue how that is appealing.  After a very vigorous bath, a drink of water, crackers, and a call to poison control, I ran down to put their gas clothes in the washer.  Upon returning to the living room, I see Jeremy pulling something out of Mister's mouth.  Come to find out, while I was distracted with the gas clothes, Mister got into my purse, opened the childproof lid of the ibuprofen bottle (mind you he was not even 2), and ate a couple.  Another call to poison control, I learned just how many ibuprofen my child could safely ingest before a trip to the ER was necessary.  And when I laughingly asked if the nurse was going to call DCFS on me, she answered, "oh, honey - it's just one of those days."  Amen, sister.

Fast forward to last week while visiting my in-laws for Christmas (we'll gloss over when he ate a poison berry this summer; who says there's no such thing as karma?).  Mister has been much preferring Daddy lately, and when it was time for bed one night, he was in full-on tantrum mode.  Lots of crying, screaming, and "I want Daddys" later, Daddy went in to try and calm him.  I stood outside the room and listened to Mister say, "Mommy is mean to me.  [Muddled words - wait for it...]  Mommy doesn't want me to be happy."  WHAT??  Who is this kid?  So, Jeremy gets him to calm down, and he comes out of the room.  The part I missed?  The muddled words?  "Mommy slapped me."  Now if you know me well, you know I am of the non-spanking camp.  There is literally zero chance I slapped Mister.  This kid already has such a strong personality, and he knows how to get what he wants.

Oof, we are in for it!  What can I say?  It's my due!  I turned out relatively normal, so I guess it could be worse.  :)