I’ll be honest, it’s felt like quite a risk to step out of my kitchen and share a bit more of my personal life on this blog. I worry that people looking for cake pops will be all confused and upset about a post that doesn’t include buttercream. I worry about exposing so much of myself, my feelings and who I am, especially when it really isn’t sugar coated. Cake pops are safe to share, life and emotions, not so much.
That said, the emails and comments I have received from other readers and other bloggers (and even people I see in person but never share these thoughts with) have blown me away, and assured me that if only for a few people, sharing a bit more, a bit off topic and a bit of me is the right thing to do. I know for myself, and from many who have reached out to me through my posts, the journey as a special needs parent, at least out of the gate, is lonely, confusing and frightening. Finding a way to connect, a way to relate, even to someone you’ve never met, is like finding a life line. So I take the risk and put it out there.
Acceptance has been hard. I’m not going to lie, even though that would sound better. Either I really suck at it, or I’m just not quick to sugar coat it and pretend as some might be, who knows. In day to day life I try to, I put on a smile and try and say it’s all “great”. But it’s not. It’s hard. Some days are dark and I’m consumed with fear and worry. It’s not that I don’t accept my darling daughter for who she is, it’s not that kind of acceptance. It’s accepting that you, mama bear, aren’t going to be able to “fix” this. As you start the journey, you not only have to adjust to finding a new way for so many things, but so much of your life is about tests, evaluations, therapy, doctors, rating scales and constant reminders of the deficits. The focus is overwhelmingly on what is wrong. And you struggle with that inner voice that says no, I WILL fix this. I CAN fix this. I just have to do more, fight harder, look closer, do better. It’s letting go of, and accepting that, which is hard.
This week we spent four days at therapy, I spent five hours filling out questionnaires where most of the questions were about her skills and most of the answers were “no”, and then three hours being questioned, and having her evaluated, at the special needs preschool by a psychologist, speech pathologist and occupational therapist. Ultimately, those are all things that focus on the weaknesses. They focus on what she can’t do. They focus on what is “normal” for her age, and how she is so far behind that. Nobody focuses on the fact that she can say “orange” or the puzzle she can do, those little victories I try to cling to and share. The focus is on what she can’t do. They tell me where she fails, they tell me how far below “average” she is. I get it, I understand it, I know it is the path I have to push through to get her services she needs. But oh my hell, it’s not fun, and it beats you down.
There are also still the unanswered questions that loom at every doctor’s appointment, every eval, every questionnaire I fill out. What else is going on? We know she’s apraxic. We know she has sensory processing disorder. But is she also autistic? Is she also cognitively disabled? I. DO. NOT. KNOW. And I’ll be honest, that sucks. Once you know what you are dealing with, I think acceptance is easier to find. Okay. This is it. This is where we are and this is what we need to do. Stop testing and looking and wondering and mobilize. Let’s move forward and do this. Let’s find our support group, let’s find our tribe, the been there done that parents who can help guide you with wisdom and support. Let’s do what’s best. But when you don’t know, you still spend so much time, so much energy and so much emotion investigating. Wondering. Worrying. Looking. Evaluating. Not knowing.
Life has given my child some big challenges and I can not fix them.
That is what I need to accept. For her. And for me. And for our family. I’ve spent a year making my world about trying to fix this. Instead of play dates and parks it’s therapy and doctors. I’ve given up hobbies, I’ve given up a social life, I’ve neglected family and friends, I have poured every ounce of myself into finding the fix, the cure, the solution, finding how to make it better. I’ve always been the fixer in my family, heck, it’s probably why I became a therapist. I fix everyone’s problems. And I’ve spent every moment I can trying to fix this. The moments that are not devoted to that are devoted to my older daughter and work, and a tiny bit that might be left gets split between my house, my husband and myself. I’ve lost myself. After a year of trying to make that plan work, I’m realizing it’s not working. And it sucks. And it’s not healthy. For ANY of us. It’s time to find and focus on the joy.
There are still questions. There are still unknowns. There are still evaluations and tests and therapies and doctors. But the focus of our LIFE can’t be on that. The focus has to be on positive things. I don’t want to wake up one day and realized we missed her childhood by focusing on those things. I want to focus on how stinking cute she is. I mean really – look at this kid…
I want to focus on her love of music. I want to focus on how darn silly she is and what a great sense of humor she has, even without words. I want to celebrate all of the things that she CAN do, the things that aren’t on the forms and check boxes and standardized tests. I want to bring back joy and lightness into this house. I want to find and take back fun. I want to get out, and get a break from the challenges, even if only for an hour or two, so that I can come back refreshed and share that with my girls. A dear friend took me to the P!nk concert the other night (only one of my all time favorite artists – ever). I had barely 24 hours notice and “no” was not an answer to my friend, and honestly, that’s kind of the push I needed, because it’s really easy to isolate yourself and make your word very small. But wow, the difference a night out makes for a worn down mama. Fun, happiness, enjoyment and a break – those aren’t just good for me, they are good for everyone.
I want us all to have fun and to enjoy this precious life we have been given. I want my oldest to grow up and rejoice in her sister, which I know she does, but I also know that this has taken a toll on her, and I need to turn that around. I really believe special needs siblings are pretty darn special beings, probably some of the most amazing people on the planet. She spends her days off from school sitting at her sister’s therapy center. She often can’t do the things she wants to due to her sister’s schedule or needs.
So we now focus on finding the joy. Celebrating the positive. Yes, obviously we still have to do everything we can to move mountains and get our girl every ounce of help we can to give her the best shot at becoming the best she can be, but we need to not miss how great and how perfect she is at this very moment. How wonderful life is, and how that wonder can not be measured on any test or evaluation. When it comes to finding joy and embracing all the sweetness, that is simply not going to be in the fail column. It will pass. With flying colors. 🙂
Sandi O says
Christi, you know I think the world of you and this gives me just one more reason to do so! You are so right – for your sake, and that of your family, find your joy and give yourself a break. You deserve it and it will make you a better, happier Mom and INDIVIDUAL! Your girls are so lucky to have you, and you are lucky to have them. Hugs!!
Mirtha says
I can’t even begin to imagine what you overcome every day. However, I am a mom and I can understand wanting the best for our children. I applaud you, because so many other moms would have given up along the way. I wish you the best, I hope that you are able to get answers and find solutions. I hope that other friends and relatives step in to give you a couple of hours here and there, for yourself and for your husband – you can’t neglect that relationship either. And for your other daughter, I can only say she’s amazing. I send you a huge internet hug.
Chelsea says
Hi, I’m a fairly new reader and all I can say is wow! How brave are you for sharing something so private as part of your healing process! I also think it’s amazing you chose to put focus on the positive. You’re right, your daughter is absolutely beautiful and she is her own little person. Good for you for accepting her for who she is and understanding all that encompasses. I wish you the best of luck on your journey & know if you need a break from the sugar high, were here for ya!
Best wishes. 🙂
Nick @ Bakingbeardy says
The part about your older daughter really struck home with me. Growing up with a disability, I know my sister really suffered from the amount of time and attention my parents had to give to me. And to this day, (even though we’re 24 and 25), it can still be hard for her that when we’re together, she’s forced into a bit of a caretaker role. It’s nice to see how dedicated you are to making sure B gets to be more than that in her family. 🙂
LeeAnna Archer says
I am the 42 year old mother of a 2 1/2 year old. He was about a month pre-mature so I’ve chalked alot up to delay. But I’m concerned now that he is almost 3 and still not saying many clear words, bangs his head out of frustration from his lack of communication. I actually happened upon your site from Pinterest because the baking title. See. I’m an executive pastry chef just recently returning to full time work. I haven’t been able to have a ton of test since my husband lost his job AFTER we had our son and AFTER my decision to be a stay at home mom. Life is fun huh?! We had him evaluated just after one and he just missed the criteria for help. Your daughter, who is adorable by the way, seem lively and interactive as is mine so that is why I’m wondering more about the daily “symptoms” and difficulties that make up a child having this condition? As a new mom of this only child I have absolutely NOTHING to go by as “normal”. Any way you, or anyone, can direct me would be appreciated. I unfortunately am an island mom died when I was 13, my mother-in-law who I love dearly is often babysat by us. Only brothers and well they’re men. My husband is amazing but just as clueless as I am about it all. Help!
Angelina says
Bless you and your children. Several years ago I had a child with a physical birth defect. Different issues but same worries. I wish you lots of luck.
Sylvia says
Thank you for this. I am in a similar boat and was feeling fed up with no answers. I have been trying to find the silver lining. Reading your words gave me another side of the coin to look at. Thank you!
Joey Sewell says
This is great. You have expressed many of the same emotions as I have felt over the years. I learned a long time ago to go on my gut, not to listen to everything doctors or therapists have said. I was told 11yrs ago that my son would never walk, never talk, and never function on his own. I took him back to the doctor that told me that when he started talking, he told me well he will never walk or function in his own. I took him back when he started walking and the same doctor told me well he will still never function on his own. I told him that I would see him in 18yrs so he could see that my son would function in his own. And I completely agree that it is a long and lonely road, but it is a road that I am thankful for because it has shown me a lot about how strong I am and how lucky I am to have such an amazing son. And I have to say that I also focus on what my son can do. He can do a lot for a child with his kind of disabilities, in fact there are says I am in awe if what he does. You sound like a great mother and you daughter is adorable. Thank you for writing this post because sometimes it is nice to be reminded that I am not the only parent out there facing these kinds of struggles
Suzanne says
Thank you for posting this amazing set of words. As a mother of a child with autism , I can relate to every single word. After coming out of the trip to Denial, I focused on the positives , small victories and joy that my son brings. His milestones and achievements will always be different from his brothers, and that’s ok. He will always need something more but he always gives more in return.
Your story ,your baking and creativity inspire us all.
Melinda Hall says
Who would have thought! I would never have dremaed to have signed on today to see you live a life a lot like mine. I have a 12 yr. old who is ADHD, depression and I have fought for yrs. to have diagnosed Asperger’s but I will take PDD-NOS that we just got in Nov.. I hae a 4 yr. old daughter who is just now starting to speak quite a bit nd most you still can’t understand, meltsdown all the time, flaps, has sensory issues, needs therapies and so on and was diagnosed PDD-NOS the week b4 her brother but I know there is more to the story there as well. I am constantly searching, wanting to fix as well and understand to a tee the uncertainty of what else or to what extent is wrong. Reading your story won’t bring back my joy completely but it gave me inspiration to brig back the joy this weekend. I also have a 3 yr. old daughter as well and my husband is bipolar. My plate is full but honestly I wouldn’t know how to live without it. You def. are not alone and I feel your roller coaster of emotions. Keep doing what you are doing because she has the best person on this earth in her corner.