As we approach New Year’s, I consider my options of resolutions for 2015. Though, ideally, I’d like to lose weight, I’m afraid my OB would be a little annoyed that I would try to do that while 20 weeks pregnant with our second child. ‘Get in shape’ is another idea. One I’d really like to pursue. But again, my idea of getting in shape is some hardcore kickboxing, and I think my OB might frown on that one too.
Do I have goals on how this delivery will go vs how it went with A? Well sure. But ultimately, that too, is sort of out of my hands.
Typically, I’m not really a good goal setter. If it’s something I am particularly inclined to do, I’ll do it. But writing it down on paper often sets me up for failure. Though, unfortunately, the failure part doesn’t seem to sink in for me.
But I can say I have a goal this year.
A has been evaluated by early intervention. At this point, she has been labeled as “developmentally delayed”. She is behind on walking and talking, and we’re now inundated with physical therapy, speech therapy and special instruction. Weekly. It’s a lot. When we first developed her plan, I thought, “Hey, I’m super woman. I can handle this.” But the reality is, that it took 2 days for it to settle in. When it finally hit me, I wept. For hours, even days. I blamed myself. I took it out on my husband. I’m pregnant, so I convinced myself that I wasn’t fit to be a mother to one child, let alone two. I secluded myself for a few weeks. I didn’t talk about it with anyone. Close friends knew, but I kept it a secret as much as possible.
Who wants to admit that their child, their precious, beautiful, curious, perfect little girl is, well, not perfect?
So my goal for this year is to make it better. To accept it. Truthfully, I still haven’t 100% accepted it. We’re going through the motions, sure. We had one special instruction appointment already. And the questions she asked about what A was able to do versus what she can’t do just hit me even harder. It further drilled in the fact that this is not just going to ‘go away’. We need to work on it. We need to put a conscious effort into teaching her more in depth than we would have to teach a ‘normal’ child, if there is such a thing.
As her mom, I need to accept it. Not just accept it, but own it. For her. Because if I’m afraid of her delays, she will learn that she should be afraid of being different and want to hide it when around other people. And that’s not okay with me. I have always been the person who stands up and shouts from the mountain tops that I am unique. I want her to do that too. But it’s not gonna happen if I’m ashamed of her delays. Of her.
At this point, we don’t know what has caused this. Whether it be a medical problem, or just a fluke. We’re looking into more testing. We’re weighing our options of how far we should go to figure this out. Or whether we should just accept it and move on. I’m still struggling. Thinking this is somehow my fault. The pediatric nurse in me is the voice of reason, saying “You haven’t done anything wrong!” But there’s that little devil on my other shoulder convincing me otherwise.
So my goal this year is to get past this. If this is a lifelong thing, then I need to figure out how best to school her now and in the future (we’re homeschooling our children). If this is short term, that would be super. But we still need to work our butts off to resolve it. As a mom, I need to own it, and teach her to own it, and that it’s okay to be different. I need to stop blaming myself and questioning whether I am good enough. I need to figure out how to deal with my own stress levels, especially through the rest of this pregnancy. We, as her parents, need to decide what path we are going to take diagnostically, in terms of potentially finding a cause for this, if ever there was one.
I need to pray, instead of cursing God for putting us through this. God knows what He’s doing. And He knew long before I did that we would face this. He knows how to get us through it too. He’s never let me down before. I don’t always agree with what He wants me to do, but I trust that He is guiding me the right way. So determinedly, I will follow His lead on this, along with the help of our growing team of therapists, doctors and medical support.