The Unknown

One of the first things I learned when starting this journey was that thinking your child has a developmental delay is very different from having someone tell you your child has a developmental delay. After our two year check up with E.T.'s pediatrician, I went into full blown research mode. What was wrong with my baby, what should I be doing to fix it, and what did it mean for his future, were just a few of my immediate concerns. Our pediatrician had referred us to a developmental pediatrician, but our appointment was over 6 months away. 

Thankfully, I am blessed with two very helpful and patient cousin-in-laws who had some professional experience in the area. They listened to my concerns, replied to my nonstop texts about possible causes, and pointed me in the direction of help. They talked me through my Google addiction back into safer territories, and suggested I get in touch with Early Intervention. This was one of those situations that without supportive friends and family, the rough days would be unbearable. (I hope you both know who you are and how thankful I am for you. But being the incredibly modest people you are, you probably don't, so I will give a hint... One of you is E.T.'s God-mommy and the other is her super awesome sister.)

I followed their suggestions and arranged to have E.T. evaluated in our home. Within a couple weeks he had received his evaluation, and we were told that he was eligible for services. They said we would receive their report in 7 - 10 days. I have never waited so anxiously for mail (okay, that's probably not true... I am weird about the mail). When the report came, I read it with tears streaming down my face. I knew his speech was delayed, and I knew that I had sensed other issues, but reading what a stranger thinks about your child is maddening. I felt the urge to be the protective mama bear and stand up for my baby. What did they know? They think because they spent an hour with him that suddenly they "know" him or what he is capable of? I was so angry. How dare they judge my child.

Then I reread it. Everything they said was true. They had given voice to every one of my secret concerns. My baby was not a baby at all. He was actually a two year old toddler, but you would never know it from looking at him. They found that E.T. had at least a 50% delay in receptive and expressive language, fine motor skills and social / emotional skills. They actually noted that he seemed so unresponsive and uncommunicative that they felt he might be deaf. We were referred for hearing, speech and occupational therapy evaluations.

While waiting for our appointments, we did a hundred tests on his hearing. We could not decide one way or the other if he could hear us or not. My heart was breaking for my baby. Was this our fault? Did I do something wrong while I was pregnant, or when he fell down the stairs that time did he damage his brain? The endless stream of questions and feelings of guilt were a constant burden. I was getting migraines and having trouble sleeping. When the hearing appointment finally arrived, I was so relieved and yet terrified at the same time. I dreaded hearing that he was deaf, but I dreaded the unknown even more. When the audiologist told us that his hearing appeared fine, I think I was actually disappointed. E.T. having a hearing problem was something that I had resigned myself to. I had researched it and read about the very simple procedures, like tubes, that could repair it. Even the worst case scenarios did not seem like the end of the world. With one simple test, I was right back where I had started, Google.

In the following weeks, E.T. had an evaluation by a Speech Therapist who confirmed the findings of the Early Intervention evaluators. We were able to create a treatment plan and specific goals, but I was still searching for that underlying cause. When the Occupational Therapist came, she told us that E.T. had a sensory processing disorder. The symptoms he was exhibiting could all be explained by SPD, from appearing to have hearing loss, all the way to his being a picky eater. I felt like I finally had something to focus on.

Of course, this is when the other shoe dropped. I spoke with E.T.'s Early Intervention Support Coordinator about his evaluations, and how we wanted to proceed with therapy. While speaking with her, she said she was sending me information on evaluations that the Public School System offered for preschool children. I thought it seemed early to be thinking about preschool for E.T., but she clarified that the information was for L.M., my first handsome boy. She said that the evaluators had expressed concern to her about certain behaviors they had witnessed from the other child in the home when they were evaluating E.T.. She assured me that it was not uncommon for developmental issues, such as sensory processing disorders, to run in families. With all of our attention focused on E.T., we had completely overlooked what was staring us right in the face. L.M. was also struggling, and had been for as long as we could remember.

Had it not been for E.T.'s speech delay, we probably never would have sought treatment for either of them, because as far as we were concerned, that was how little boys behaved.