Just Keep Swimming...

Confession time.

... I am still struggling.

For the most part, I have settled into what our household has become. There is a routine of Doctor's appointments, Physiotherapy, Occupational Therapy, Speech and Language Pathologists appointments, extra immunizations... the works. But this is normal now. This is what our lives have become. And it's frustrating at times. I rely heavily on family and often feel like I am putting them out, and being a huge inconvenience, especially when I get overwhelmed and only look at my calendar the day before appointments and need to drop Rosalie somewhere without giving anyone any real notice. But I don't have many options. Anyway... that's not really where I am struggling, but it gives a little background to where I am coming from.

Dominic needs way more help that Rosalie ever did. Things that came naturally to her, do not come naturally to Dominic. Thus, a bunch of the appointments that are listed above. Today, I had our ECIP (Early Childhood Intervention Program) worker come to our house to work on a bunch of things with Dominic. Most is play centred which is good, because Dominic LOVES it. He likes the different and special toys and extra attention. She comes every couple weeks and is very familiar with how Dominic is doing in all of his developmental areas. Today, I asked a question, and got the answer I expected and feared at the same time. I asked "Is Dominic catching up or getting further behind where a typical child would be at his age?"

Now, I should mention here that there are a lot of things about Dominic that make me proud, many things he does that show such promise, and many things he does that relieve me of any concerns... But he is still not pulling himself to a stand, or crawling, or speaking any distinguishable words... Honestly, when I see or hear about someone else's baby that is 6 months younger than Dominic achieving these relatively simple goals, a little piece of me dies just a bit. I wish that Dominic would just pull to a stand all on his own one of these days, but that is not going to happen. It will takes months and months and probably the assistance of a standing contraption to get him there. By that time, these kids 6 months younger than him will be walking around like pros.

So what was her response, you ask? "We know Dominic is delayed. And as he grows, that gap will get bigger and bigger. With luck, at some point some of his delays might not be as evident, but we really don't know what the future holds for him."  We talked about the good things he has done too, and the milestones he is hitting; his ability to play together with Rosalie, his general interest in new things, his quick learning of how to work new toys.. so it seems his congnition and social skills are the least of our worries. Where as all of the ones he is behind on appear to be physiological at this point (and can be mostly attributed to his stroke and his cleft lip and palate).

I cried a bit today and through some self evaluation I realized I am still mourning the perfect child I thought I was having for the first half of my pregnancy. As much as I love Dominic and am thankful I have him and would never trade him for anything, part of me is still struggling with the difficulties (and perhaps some bitterness) that comes with having a child with special needs. And much of this mourning is also tied to the guilt I have, that there are many people that wish for a child as healthy as Dominic, or are mourning heavier losses than my own. Those parents that have lost a child are way more justified in their grief than I am. What have I really lost? Nothing. And the guilt that Dominic is a happy boy (one of the happiest I think!), and he is unconcerned with any of this. He doesn't give two shits about what those other kids are doing. So why I am letting this eat me alive? I should be as happy as he is simply because he's happy. I should be more grateful for that

Most days, none of this even crosses my mind. Most days, none of this matters. But that one day out of a hundred, I still cry. I still struggle. I still wonder what life would be like if things were different.

But that doesn't mean I would change a thing. Whatever doesn't kill you,.. right?