I remember when we started early intervention. The thought behind it is that with a bit of intervention, my child would catch up to his peers. The reality is, at the time, I didn’t know that my view, and of the countless other experts, of the situation, was completely wrong. “Let’s get him the help he needs to catch up,” they would say. Of course, we wanted that! I mean, look at his sister so happy and healthy, in no
“He should have access to his voice at all times,” she wrote. Out of context, it would be hard to know what to make of a statement like this, but I think most of us would be inclined to think it is correct, or good advice, or at least true as an aspiration. Unfortunately, in this case, it was more like a weapon. I should have expected it. After all, the internet seems to spawn a whole population of individuals
For a year and a half, I worked out in the room attached to our playroom. There is a sliding glass door that leads into a mostly glass room which looks out into the backyard. This also means anyone who is in the playroom can see me peddling away on the Peloton. Over the last year that everyone has been home, there are days my husband would say, “take a ride,” and if you need exercise as I do, many
When we first got married and were looking for our first house, I told my husband I only wanted to live in a downtown area. I love the ability to walk to the train station, go to shops, walk to dinner, basically enjoy where I live. For our first and second homes, this was the case. But, after getting our son’s diagnosis (insert link to diagnosis story), we realized that he might not just grow into our home. Life is
My son is like a puzzle. One with no directions, no picture, and guess what, it’s missing a piece – or in his case 3 pieces. Sure, we know where the missing pieces are, or should I say aren’t, but it impacts other puzzle elements as well. There are days I look at my son, and I wonder, does he know he has an itch? Do you ever have an itch and think about it? I do, now, at least.
“What did you do?” It is often asked in one form or another when people find out my son bites, kicks, and hurts, it most cases, me. See, people assume that I must have upset my son. After all, why would he hurt me? But the reality is, I am fortunate because I realized I was doing nothing wrong. Let me go into my exact thought process. At first, I thought it was my fault. That my son was trying
We left the house exactly as scheduled, which in itself was a miracle, arriving as requested 30 minutes prior for check-in at the hospital. Everything was going smoothly thanks to pre-check-in via the phone, and we were sitting in the radiology waiting room a full 10 minutes early. Our appointment was for 8:00 am, and I thought, man, we might be out of here by 9 o’clock. Before I get too deep into this story, let me tell you a
The first time I heard the term hypotonia, it didn’t even register. I focused on the shots and answered questions at that checkup when our pediatrician uttered a word I never heard before. I must have missed it. After all, humans do that. We use context clues, and if the word doesn’t seem too alarming or concerning, we tend to assume the meaning and move past it. My husband heard it, and he must have started to do research and
The world stood still for a moment as the freeways were silent, the skies empty of any planes, and the sidewalks were bare of any people. The uneasy calm mixed with fear in the air was a feeling I had known all too well. It was the feeling I had when we got our diagnosis. I was in a pure daze during that phone call. The world lost all sound, and it felt as if I was all alone, even
One night I was sitting on the floor near my son as he rolled around chewing on a book, and I realized the rest of my family was laughing and having fun at the kitchen table. It was the odd moment where my life sort of flashed by, and I realized I always was the one to step back to “do the right thing” so others could enjoy themselves. I was the one who left early to get a child
