This was going to be a post today about the power of words. About how important it is to choose our words and tone carefully when we speak to each other because you never know what is going on behind that other person’s closed doors. About we should use our words to lift each other up, and not to knock each other down.
But life got in the way today.
Today I finally took my head out of the sand and brought my youngest in to our doctor for a referral for a hearing test.
I’ve known for a while that his speech was delayed. We’ve all known. And thanks to some gentle prodding from my support group friends, I called our doctor to get his ears looked at. At the visit, our pediatrician listened to me talk about how early intervention didn’t pick him up for services because he wasn’t delayed enough at 19 months. She listened to me as I told her that he’s trying to communicate, but just can’t make the sounds, that nothing has progressed beyond the most basic words and every other attempt at new words sounds like he’s under water. She listened to me as I shared my frustration because I just didn’t know what to do to help him along.
Then came the questions to me: Did I remember if he was delayed in his babbling as an infant? Does he seem to be getting frustrated because he can’t communicate with us? Can he identify different sounds, directions, different people’s voices? She’s asking me these questions through his blood curdling screams as she’s cleaning out the giant balls of wax out of his ears.
The answer given by this guilt-ridden mother of three? I have no idea.
And as that guilt swirls around in my head, I hear words like “immature speech” and “possible ear fluid” and “oral-motor function”. Phrases like “The Learning Center for the Deaf” and “playing catch up”. Reminders like “reduce that pacifier use as much as possible”.
After all the ear flushing and scraping is done, and after all the screaming has subsided thanks to a Curious George sticker, we make our way home with referral in hand. And I think we know he can hear. He understands EVERYTHING. He can get his shoes and bring them to me when he hears it’s time to go in the car. He can hear a plane going by overhead. He can dance along to “Bad Romance” and hand the remote to me when it’s over. He can mimic the Elmo’s World music. He just can’t say shoes, plane, Lady Gaga or Elmo.
And of course, I wonder if it’s something I’ve done. Was it too much TV? Not enough reading? Too much of everything else going on? Did his brother’s autism pull me away from him too many times that I couldn’t help him learn his words earlier? And as a family, can we really go through this again? It’s not about finding the physical strength to go through the potential therapies, doctor’s visits and all the work. It’s about finding the emotional time and energy to make it all happen.
I have to remember it could be so much harder. He is a happy, healthy, loving little boy who is full of energy. He has a laugh that is infectious and a smile that can light up your day. He doesn’t have delays in any other area and we don’t see the other signs like we did with his brother. S0 I have to have some hope. Hope that it’s just a speech delay and nothing more. Hope that it’s something that a few months of therapy will correct. Hope that someday I”ll hear him yell “Mama” because he’s looking for me.
This post was supposed to be about the power of words. Instead, it’s about the absence of them. In many ways, that is just as powerful.
“Shout, shout, let it all out, these are the things I can do without
Come on, I’m talking to you, come on
Shout, shout, let it all out, these are the things I can do without” – Shout by Tears for Fears
July 27, 2010 at 7:38 am
Oh OH OH, you’ve made me cry!
I see SO much of myself in this post!
SO beautifully and honestly written, thank you for sharing it.
I hope you get the answers you need
Fi xx
July 27, 2010 at 8:21 am
I echo Fiona, this is so powerful, so raw and honest, thank you for being so brave in sharing this. There are few words of comfort that can be safely offered at a time like this. What I will venture with you is this: you know your son, you know some of what might be ahead. But a lot is unwritten. Your 3 year old’s journey is going to be all his.
A very dear friend said some beautiful words to me not long after my younger son’s autism diagnosis. I will repeat them to you in the hope that they bring some comfort in the midst of this. Your children are so lucky: because they have you as their mum. You are the best mum for them and will do your best for them and it will be enough.
Go gently on yourself, you know deep down that you did nothing wrong; you are one person with three children to love, teach, protect and learn from. By taking the plunge now, you are above all else doing what your son needs to find his personal answers, whatever they may be.
July 27, 2010 at 10:17 am
What a beautiful post! I agree with dq74…you are the best mom for these kids. My heart breaks for how much of this you take on. Of course I think it is a natural parent reaction to feel responsible for all that our kids do and for who they become, but I really think our one and only job is to love these kids the best way we know how. It is evident that you are doing that, and you WILL find the strength, you WILL find the emotional energy and your kids WILL absolutely know that you love them with everything you have. With or without words…
July 27, 2010 at 10:37 am
Ditto on the above posts. You hang in there!
You’re doing all you can to help each child with each and every issue and that’s all you can ask of yourself – remember that. You’re doing a great job! Whatever may happen you will be able to handle, as will your kids. Someday, you’ll be able to sit across your (clean) dinner table which will rest on a non-sticky floor 🙂 and you’ll see 3 grown men across from you and be able to tell them what you went thru with each one and laugh and chat together about it. That’s something I always try to keep in the forefront anyway. 🙂
July 28, 2010 at 1:28 pm
All I can say to this reply is AMEN. 3 Grown men are on their way….
July 27, 2010 at 11:36 am
JTO made me cry with that comment! I feel your struggle and your fears and I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to have to tackle something new with a child but what I see, as does everybody else who reads this, is a mother who will do everything she needs to discover how she can help her child, knowing that getting a diagnosis is part of the battle.
Somebody very close to me has a ten year old boy who has always been difficult to manage. Unfortunately, she does not have the proper constitution to deal with getting to the bottom of his behavioral issues and as we watch him grow we see that her window for helping him is closing rapidly. We all try to help but she does not want advice from others and I can’t blame her for that, I only wish she could focus on him and give him the help that he would clearly thrive off of.
I admire you greatly!
July 27, 2010 at 11:51 am
Thank you all. As usual, I am overwhelmed by the amazing support and wonderful, caring comments from everyone. I am forever grateful for this online community of supportive parents from all over the globe. You have all made today much much better. Thank you.
July 27, 2010 at 4:14 pm
Oh, I know exactly what you mean about the guilt and worry. But, please try not to blame yourself. I know that is like asking you not to breathe, but try anyway. I do this all the time, too.
We suspect that my daughter has SPD and I am beside myself. I too wonder if I can find the emotional strength. I just think my reservoir has been emptied by my son’s autism and all the accompanying therapies. I know I’ll find the strength somewhere, but right now I don’t know where.
You are doing a great job, though! And remember this: my mom says that if your kids know you love them then you are successful as a mom. I agree with her.
July 28, 2010 at 2:52 pm
we seem to be living parallel lives, Patty. I think we’ll both just have to dig deep and find the strength from family, friends, and this wonderful online community. You too are doing amazing things with your family. I’m with ya!
July 27, 2010 at 5:43 pm
I just wanted to say that we mommies & daddies, don’t HAVE to know everything and sometimes when you have your hands full with special needs, it’s hard to focus on other stuff. By blogging about it, going to visit the Dr. YOU ARE doing a GREAT job– you are the best parent for that child !
Children really are resiliant… honest!
July 28, 2010 at 2:53 pm
Thank you Stacey. We are all doing amazing things.
July 28, 2010 at 12:38 am
I’m so sorry. I hope you find the answers. Hang in there.
July 28, 2010 at 1:27 pm
Hey Alysia-
i feel your pain. You are blessed in spite of your challenges. Trust me I know.
Having a child with any kind of special needs is difficult. At least your son can walk and can do so much more.
You are just one person and you can’t possibly do it all. Don’t be so hard on yourself.
Thanks for stopping by my Stress Relief for Caregivers site. I trust you will find some solace there.
Michelle
July 28, 2010 at 2:53 pm
Thank YOU Michelle, for taking the time to stop by and write with all that you have going on. I appreciate the support.
July 29, 2010 at 10:19 am
I could have written this post about my youngest – almost word for word. Our pediatrician is not yet concerned about Seth’s speech but I am almost certain it’s delayed – underwater sounds and all. I too wonder if it’s my fault for letting Simon’s non-stop talking impede Seth’s speech development, or whether this is the beginning of a larger developmental issue that will take us down a path of new challenges.
But oh, the smiles! Somedays they are all the “mama!” I need 🙂
Keep in touch with your son’s progress.
Caitlin
http://www.welcome-to-normal.com