Telling Someone Else's Story...and Why I Must Tell It

I sat and listened to a woman I'd never met before, as she told me about her two young children. They are undiagnosed, ages two and three. She is on a year-long waiting list to get them in to a developmental pediatrician so they can get a diagnosis. A year! She cannot get more intense or specific services for her children until she gets that official diagnosis. They have early intervention services, with speech, occupational, and physical therapies. But she waits on a long list to get more help. If they do get a diagnosis of autism eventually, they will be put on another waiting list, which is two years long, to get behavioral therapy - ABA therapy for her children.

Despite the OT, PT, and speech therapies (which are one hour each per week) she struggles alone.  She has thousands of unanswered questions. She asks me, "What are the symptoms of autism? How do I know if my children have autism?" She does not even know where to begin. She has no idea what to do about the future. She lives a difficult life, waiting for answers. When you don't have a diagnosis, you don't have direction. When you finally hear the doctor say, your child has "this," at least you know what to focus on as far as therapies and programs. Well, to some extent, anyway.

In the meantime, while she is waiting, this mom's life is on hold. She cannot take them to the grocery store. She cannot take them to restaurants. She cannot get a babysitter. They have stopped attending church because of her children. She cannot take her eyes off of them for one second. She has a job, but she says her kids are in danger of being "kicked out of daycare" because of their behavior. One child is nonverbal and eats all kinds of objects, such as metal screws, crayons, and recently her own feces. The other child is extremely aggressive, has anxiety and volcanic melt-downs in any public place where there are crowds or groups of people, and bites others. The mother struggles to figure out what the non-verbal child wants - as simple as what she wants to drink. The little girl cries and cannot communicate her basic needs. They have feeding issues such as choking often on certain textures. They do not sleep through the night, ever. And...her pediatrician tells her nothing is wrong. Want to know the craziest part? We go to the same pediatrician. Yep. I shook my head and told her that she can't completely depend on the pediatrician for help with this, unfortunately. The pediatrician can make referrals, but the mother will have to ask for them. This mother will have to learn how to advocate and find help for her children by herself.

Can you imagine her life for one moment? Can you imagine trying to keep a marriage from falling apart and a career afloat while dealing with these issues every second? I hear stories like this and I think, why is this mother being made to wait like this? Why is there such a problem with getting in to see a developmental pediatrician? Why is she not getting more intensive therapies? Why on earth is the speech therapist not helping to establish a simple communication system for this frustrated little girl?

I think, What can I do? How can I help this woman? I hadn't even known her for ten minutes and I wanted to help her. You probably feel sympathetic and helpless just reading about her, and you have no idea who she is. I gave her some advice about advocating for her children and researching certain therapies. I showed her some of Lilli's old PECS pictures and explained how she could make some simple pictures to help her little girl tell her what she wants to eat or drink. I recommended the best book I've ever read about helping with her children's issues. I told her about how our church has a class for children with special needs with wonderful volunteers, and she could feel comfortable bringing them there. I will be in touch with this mom and try to think of ways to help her. But I can't do anything about the programs that don't exist, and the therapists that are not helping to establish a communication system, and the therapies that have two-year waiting lists, and the lack of doctors who can see her child and give a diagnosis in less than a year's time.

The whole time we were talking, she kept saying, "Oh, you just don't even know..." as she wiped tears away. But...I do know. Some of it. I don't know what it's like to be her and live her life, but I have shared some of the same experiences, frustration, and feelings of helplessness. She is probably so used to meeting other parents with "typically developing" children (sometimes I do get a little tired of that term because it reminds me that we are NOT typical) and she feels like she lives on a completely different planet when she hears them talk about their struggles. Hearing a mom complain about playdough stuck in the carpet and fighting with a sibling....compared to a mom in agony over her child that's non verbal and eats her own poop?  I personally think there is a difference there, but that's just me. Moms like to connect with other moms about their child-raising experiences and struggles. But when you don't know any other moms who have a non-verbal kid that eats feces, well, that can make you feel pretty alone in the world.

I wrestle with this blog, more than you can imagine. I consider taking my blog down every week. Sometimes daily. I question why I even do this. Am I wasting my time? I could be doing my dirty dishes right now, or a hundred other things. I wonder if people think I am egotistical, writing about my kids and thinking that others care. I do know some that some are irritated or just plain don't care. There are many people that are very close to us that do not read this blog. For the ones that do, thank you. I believe it helps you understand Lilli much better, and I can tell a difference in how people treat her or talk to her. For that alone, it is worth the uncomfortable feeling of baring my soul to the world. For the most part, unless people comment, I do not know what people think about the point of this blog. I write, I delete. I post, and consider deleting other posts I've already put up. It is an internal battle. I feel guilty for writing publicly about my children and my situation, because I know that writing something online is permanent. I cannot take it back. I don't want to embarrass my children or anyone else. I don't want to seem like I'm lecturing the world. I wonder sometimes, what is the purpose of my writing?

Really, it comes down to this: I write because there is no other way for people to know what goes on behind closed doors with a child who has special needs. If you don't know any personally, you might see them in public, rarely. You might feel sorry for them for a brief second. You might look away so they don't see you staring. But they have a story. And I believe those stories need to be told. It is my way of advocating for my own child, and for families like ours.

Why? Because they need help. Because they don't want to be judged. Because they never asked to live this kind of life, and they are trying to figure it all out. Because the next time you see a mother struggling with two young screaming children in the grocery store, it might be this woman.  The woman who is drowning in chaos and desperately needing help with her undiagnosed children, and she just needs to get a gallon of milk and some eggs without causing a huge commotion, but she can't. And lack of discipline or what you perceive to be "bad parenting" has nothing to do with her situation.

Because you might notice that a certain family that you know does not go to church, or to functions like the PTA school carnival, or to the movies, or to birthday parties, or to the neighborhood block party. But it might be for reasons you cannot imagine.

Because you might read this, wherever you live, and it might inspire you to think of a way that you could reach out to a family like this and help them.

Because the next time you go to the movies, shop at the mall, attend church or some other community gathering/event, I want you to look around and ask yourself, "Where are all the kids with special needs?"

If you don't see any, it's not because they don't exist. Trust me. If you don't see any, it's because the place or function you are attending has no accommodations for children with special needs. The same goes for adults with special needs. This is on a large scale for big things, and on a small scale too. The next time you are in a grocery store, look around for all the moms pushing their kids with special needs in special needs grocery carts. Don't see any? It's not because they don't need groceries. (Here is a link to a video about a special needs grocery shopping cart that I wish our grocery store had when Lilli was younger and could not walk as well. Wow, would that have changed my life back then: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7HTt9fx5WPE

Think about your workplace. Would a parent be able to wheel their child in a wheelchair into your store? Yes, I know there are laws about handicapped accessibility. That doesn't mean that every place is handicap accessible, not by a long shot. Once many years ago in the state where Lilli was born, I pointed this out to the pediatrician's office staff. I could not get Lilli into the building without a struggle. They had two sets of double glass doors, I'm not sure of the correct term - with one of those little vestibules to keep the cold air out. No handicap automatic button. Pushing a stroller with a baby (Chloe) and carrying a handicapped toddler (Lilli), it was incredibly difficult to pull open those two sets of doors to get into a doctor's office.  I suggested an automatic handicapped button. They thought it was a good idea; it had not occurred to them. A person with a wheelchair, a walker, or a child or two with special needs would have a terrible time opening those doors to get in. I wonder if they ever did anything about that.

Ever go to the movies with your child and think, where are all the kids with autism? They can't go to the movies unless your local movie theater has a special showing for kids with autism (and there are theaters that do this!)

Look around at church. Is there a way for parents who have children with special needs to attend your church? If you did not know I was coming, and I came to visit your church, would I be able to bring Lilli? We had a very hard time visiting churches when we first moved here, because most do not have a place for a child like Lilli. It was a lonely, frustrating experience until we found our current church home. Again I feel like I am getting into other topics that I could write entire separate posts about. So I will stop here, and leave you with this.

I write, because it is one small thing I feel that I can do to raise awareness and advocate for my child, and others like her. If my stories help you to have understanding for families who have children with special needs, I am glad.

I really hope it does make a difference. Please tell me if it does. It might keep me from deleting my next post.

Waking Up in the Middle of the Night

I had a thought the other morning, after being woken up yet again by my two year old at some odd hour in the middle of the night:

How awful it must be, to be a kid that cannot speak, and wake up in the middle of the night with a need.

Joshie came running into our dark bedroom talking about something. Jasen, dear husband that he is, got up and took Josh back to his room. But minutes, later, Josh was back, saying the same thing, whatever it was. In my foggy sleepy state, I forced my brain to translate “Josh-speak” and mumble to Jasen, “He said he wants a drink of water.”

And that was the trick. He was thirsty, and sucked down a half cup of water, and went back to sleep.

A few hours later I stood by the coffee maker and groggily told Jasen, “He said ‘De da wa-were.’ That means he wants a drink of water.”

“Huh? ……Oh.” Jasen responded. Then we both drank huge cups of coffee and went on with our days.

I was thinking about Josh, who is actually receiving speech therapy now, and how he is so hard to understand sometimes. HE knows what he is saying, and he knows exactly what he wants. But he cannot always get us to understand. He has intelligent thoughts and ideas, but trouble communicating them. He just cannot get the words to come out of his mouth right.

Kind of like Lilli.

When Lilli wakes up in the middle of the night, she does different things. Sometimes she makes sounds, like “Mee mee,” or “Ss, ss, ss.” Sometimes she makes breathy noises and growls or laughs. She will grab us or grab her neck. Grabbing her neck, we know now, is her gesture for “I have something to say but I can’t get it out.” But how do we figure out what she wants at three or four in the morning in the dark?

Only recently did I have an “a-ha” moment in the middle of the night about Lilli. She woke up around four a.m. and started to make noises. I don’t know how it is in other people’s houses, but in ours, when someone wakes up, usually that means several others are woken up too. So Jasen and I were having a discussion in the dark about why Lilli was awake.

Ok, I was the one who was having the discussion. Jasen was trying to sleep.

I decided that maybe, just maybe, Lilli had to go to the bathroom. And she can’t tell me.

After eight years, this occurs to me for the first time.

Duh.

During the day, we have the potty button that “speaks” for her, we have her dragging us to the bathroom, we have pictures she can point to, she can type it, we have a certain specific “potty whine” she does that I recognize, we have our little notebook with the schedule and all our handwritten notes of the last time she peed, so that we can say to each other or ourselves, “Hmm, Lilli has not gone potty in awhile, let’s take her.” (Just writing all of that took a little bit out of me. Potty training has been long and difficult. But it is because it is not “typical.” We have a few more obstacles thrown into the mix.)

I think about how potty training with Chloe went, and how there were those times in the middle of the night when she would wake up whimpering and we would have to stumble through our sleepiness to complete the routine in the dark.  I think, well, it’s worth a shot. We’re all awake. Might as well see if that’s the problem.

So at four a.m., I take Lilli to the potty.

I whisper to her that this is different, we don’t have the lights on, I’m not going to play an Elmo movie or sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. OK, but I can whisper it, I think. So I whisper Twinkle Twinkle Little Star in the still dark bathroom.

And there it is.  She had to go.

I hug her and tell her I am so proud of her. She squeezes my neck super hard, for a really long time as I crouch down next to her sitting there. I imagine her to be saying, “I’m so glad you finally realized that was why I woke up. I am so glad you finally figured it out.”

Then I take her back to bed and she goes back to sleep.

I confess to you that I got teary. That’s no big surprise to anyone since I am such an emotional person. But this was a big moment for me, because I had a realization.

Special needs aside, sometimes kids just wake up simply because they have to go to the potty.

We tend to make things more complicated than they are. Mysteries can do that. For so many years we tried to figure it out. We thought that Lilli’s night waking was due to something neurological, or seizure activity. And many nights, it was. Lots of kids with special needs do not sleep well. When you see a bleary-eyed parent of a newborn, you understand why they are sleep deprived.  But many, or should I say most? parents of kids with special needs are still bleary-eyed after a decade. For various reasons. Some parents have to get up in the middle of the night to tend to feeding pumps or various beeping monitors, some children are on medications that disrupt their sleep, some children have seizures… there are lots of reasons. Some known, some unknown. When Lilli was a toddler she used to wake up and laugh, loudly. Squeal with delight and clap her hands, for over an hour. Night after night. It went on for months.

That… was torture. It was not at all funny.

We tried a lot of things over the years. Now, Lilli does sleep through the night most nights. Certain things have helped her sleep. One is regular chiropractic adjustments. (One of many motivators for my husband going to school to become a chiropractor. He may have even made the final decision to be one at four a.m. I don’t know.) From supplements... to certain foods…to long baths... to driving around the block six times… to taking her to a chiropractor, the list of things we have tried over the years to get her to go to sleep and stay asleep is long. But I am just happy to have realized that sometimes, when a kid with special needs wakes up in the middle of the night, it might not have to do with their special needs. They just might be like any other kid and have to use the potty or want a drink of water. With a child who cannot talk, this is guesswork in the dark at an exhausting hour.

I hope that one day we will figure out a good way for Lilli to tell us what she needs in the dark.

For now, I am just happy that sometimes… I guess correctly.

Watch Out for that Crazy Mom in Target

It's six a.m. My husband is already gone for the day. All three kids are sleeping in my bed. (The only one who started out there was Lilli). Lilli is hooked up to her pulse oximeter; lit up red and green numbers blinking on the nightstand next to her. Even so, I keep sneaking in to check on her. I am already on my second cup of coffee; been up since 5.

I got up to say goodbye to Jasen, and I could go back to bed if I wanted to. But I know I would not be able to sleep. I'm currently in a vicious cycle of caffeine and anxiety. I have been mentally spiraling down in the last few weeks. I think what started it was the fact that the new nurse did not show up for three days. So I called the nursing agency and said, "Hi, I don't want that nurse anymore, I can't depend on her." We temporarily did not have a nurse. No biggie. But as a result of my calling the caseworker about something else, she saw in our file that it was time for a review. Another nurse came to the house to evaluate Lilli and re-assess her. We are one of those families that kind of "falls between the cracks," I guess. The results of the re-assessment? We do not qualify for nursing help anymore. The reason why? Because we have a new caseworker. The last caseworker took time to hear my story; the details that don't get put on paper in official black and white. She was a mom. She was compassionate. I know some people with more needs than our family might read this and get irritated. I know there are families with much greater medical needs that we have. We are blessed. Lilli is not on a ventilator. She does not have a g-tube. My caseworker just had mercy and granted the nursing care for us because I explained Lilli's uncontrolled seizures, and I needed help. She told me we technically did not fall into the right category for nursing care, but she had the power to grant it to us anyway.

Having a nurse this past year changed my life. It was not a perfect situation by any means. But now that we do not have a nurse anymore, I have to re-think how I do things. The biggest change is my constant mental state of having to be alert and aware of Lilli's needs. I miss that mental break. A good nurse in home health is a rare gem. I learned a ton from our experience. But now, it's back to no nurse. It is one year later, and a lot of things have changed. We have the ipad now. We have an ABA therapist. Josh and Chloe are just now getting to the age where they play with each other. Chloe can take care of herself more. There are a lot of good things that have happened in the past year that I can be positive about. Writing about it helps me to focus on the big picture and see the good with the bad.

I can appeal the decision and plead my case to try and get nursing care back, but honestly I don't know if I have it in me right now to file all sorts of paperwork and drive two hours for a hearing. It seems as though our chances are slim. I have not decided what to do yet. Perhaps I never should have been granted that privilege in the first place, but I am a better mom now because of that caseworker's decision to help me out. I have ten days to decide and respond in writing about an appeal. In the meantime, I have to deal with what is happening right now, and what this change means. It means that I have to take Lilli with me wherever I go, which is no small deal. But it will be OK.

I have to carefully calculate our outings. Any small trip outside the home has the potential to become complicated and stressful with Lilli. We cannot take Lilli some places because of triggers that set off her seizures. We cannot go out at mealtimes or for too long because of Lilli's endurance level. Sometimes Lilli cuts the trip short by wailing loudly. But sometimes, it's just as challenging to take my two year old out in public. I am way too stressed out about things that might or might not happen. I have been wearing myself down into an over-emotional, exhausted pessimist. Each outing by itself is no big deal. But after a whole week of having anxious outings, I was kind of an emotionally threadbare mess. I want to try and see the positives in all of this.

I think my anxiety of going places is real, and has roots that stem back to when Lilli was a toddler. Most outings were incredibly stressful with baby Lilli. I was a new mom, she was my first baby, and she had special needs. Nothing was easy. I was incredibly paranoid because of her seizures, choking, medicine doses, irritability, and other factors. I was also chronically sleep deprived for many years. Now I guess I'm not "chronically" sleep deprived. Just regular sleep deprived. My personal definition difference is based on the number of times I am awakened at night and for how long each time.

Now that Lilli is older, the factors have changed. But going out in public is still very stressful for me. To an outsider, it may seem like no big deal. But to an outsider, each outing is a separate thing. I'll try to act like I'm a different person and look at my situation objectively.

…So Lilli cried the entire time we were in the grocery store, so what? Lots of kids do that. Think of all the moms who have toddlers screaming and losing their minds in the checkout line next to the candy display.
… So Lilli cried most of the time that we were in the dollar store, so what? We were only in there for twenty minutes. Big deal.
…So Lilli sobbed at the library and Morgan had to whisk her out, and I could hear her wailing out in the hallway while I tried to hurry Chloe up to check out her movies…no big deal. (Ok, no, that was disruptive and stressful.)
...So I could not take Lilli and Josh to the playground while Chloe was in dance class because there were so many kids I was worried I could not keep track of both of them, not a big deal, right? Lilli would just walk away into the road and never look back. Josh would run to the edge of the soccer field in to the woods and never look back. No playground for us. (I took them for a short walk instead, and Lilli cried.)
…So I had to drive a half hour through pouring rain and traffic to speech therapy, and when we got there I had to keep Lilli from repeatedly touching a stranger's face and keep Josh occupied while we waited for 15 minutes for the therapist, it wasn't the end of the world. She didn't cry for very long.

The thing is, all of those things happened just last week. That was a typical week. Almost every time we all went somewhere, even when I had Morgan's help, Lilli cried and made our trips stressful and short. At the grocery store, we never made it to the dairy section. Halfway through the frozen section, I said "Ok let's go." She was so upset that it was making me upset, so we left without milk and eggs. Then when we got home I stressed about when I would go back and get the milk and eggs.

Having a nurse meant I got my grocery shopping done without interrupting Lilli's ABA therapy at home, and I could focus on two children while two other people were focusing on Lilli. Lilli was not there, crying and anxious the entire time. I have thought about this, and wondered why I get so anxious when I am out with Lilli. I asked myself if I was embarrassed of her. Really and truly, I am not embarrassed by my daughter. I am not ashamed of who she is. I am proud of her and I adore her. But when Lilli is anxious and upset, I get anxious and upset. An ordinary errand turns into a "hurry up and get this done and let's get out of here." This is really typical when you have a two year old. I went through it with Chloe, and now we are done with it. I'm going through it with Josh right now, and I know it will pass soon. But it has always been like this with Lilli. As she gets older and taller and stronger, it makes me even more anxious.

She has gotten better at outings. As long as I have another adult with me and a bag of cheesepuffs, we can make it for a little while. We try to prepare her mentally for the errand. We avoid certain loud, overwhelming stores. I make a list before we go, and we make a "game plan." We get in and try to get out as fast as possible. Once on a trip to Target, Morgan told me I should be on Youtube. I had all three kids in one of those kid carts with two booster seats. I literally ran while pushing the cart up and down each aisle, whisking things off the shelves. I barely slowed down to grab stuff. It was drive-by shopping. I almost ran a woman over and had to apologize profusely. When I write stuff like this down, I realize I must have lost more marbles than I thought over the years. I prefer to call it "Preventative Parenting." Like I am getting my shopping done quickly before someone has a total meltdown. It makes it sound so much better than "Paranoid, Sleep-Deprived Anxious Shopper Mom Hyped-up on Caffeine and Dangerously Running with a Cart Filled with Three Kids."

So I lost nursing care, no big deal. I still have Morgan, Lilli's ABA therapist. And she's better than ten nurses. Any parent in my situation would do back flips to have any help at all, so how can I complain?

The positives about not having a nurse:
I won't spend as much money.
My kids won't get to see things they want at Target and whine about wanting them (because they will only be seeing a blur as we zip past).
I might be able to call running with a cart filled with three kids and groceries "exercise."
There's no time for me to look at frivolous house décor and waste mental space thinking about the pointless possibility of "window treatments" and useless bowls filled with silly decorative balls.
We will never go to Toys R Us because Lilli hates it – too overstimulating (not going there is a definite positive in so many ways.)
I will be forced to plan meals ahead of time and write specific grocery lists (a money and time-saver in the long run.)
I can't think of a positive about not going to the public library. But my library is so awesome, they actually have a drive-through window. I can reserve books online, drive over there, and a nice lady slides open a window and hands them to me with a smile. (She might be smiling because we are not actually coming inside the building to disrupt the peace, but whatever.)
And the biggest potential positive? I will gain wisdom. I will depend on God and not myself. Because I simply cannot do it all. I will be constantly reminded that everything I have in life is from the sheer grace of God. I will be more thankful for every blessing, for any small help and any moment of peace I am granted. It is true, having less makes you more thankful for what you have. That is true with material things, but it is also true of time, and help from others. When things change in life, a person can either be bitter about it, or gain wisdom. I am no Pollyanna, believe me. But I will not choose to be bitter. I will be thankful for what I have. As for my anxiety level, I know I need breaks. This is a break right now. I am thankful I can write. I can start my day feeling good from getting all of that out. Thanks for letting me share.