Some Mama Thoughts

Matthew and I drove to Children’s today for his feeding appointment. We are lucky to see an occupational therapist there who is wonderful (and happens to have worked with my dear friend Kaitlin several years ago). She’s helpful and kind, celebrating Matthew’s successes, but also aware of his challenges. I suppose that’s the right combination for a therapist.

But today, for some reason, it made me really emotional to be at Children’s and watch Matthew struggle with eating . . . it made my questions loom big in my mind: what is ahead for this boy? What else should we be doing for him? And how are we ever going to find enough energy and time to give him all the support he needs?

These are common parent questions, and probably even more common for those who parent children with special needs. As an example, I’ve been spoon-feeding my son now for more than an entire year. For 12 months, at every single meal, I’ve sat and spooned food into his mouth, I’m so ready for him to start eating independently, but he’s not quite there, YET. He will get there—I truly believe that. He’s made such amazing progress despite his many delays and challenges. But sometimes just having the patience to wait for that next step is the hardest thing.

Patience is something I could use more of these days—patience to live into these days with purpose and without expectation. Matthew can only develop at a pace set by him—and it seems like each day he’s learning new things, catching up, doing everything right.

And still he’s behind.

So friends, who read this blog, please hear this kind but pleading request from me: When you call me or come over to my house, PLEASE stop asking me, “So is Matthew talking yet?”

The answer is still NO, and each time you ask and I have to say “no” again, it hurts my heart a little.

Aaron’s pretty sure Matthew won’t talk until he’s at least four. I’m hoping it’s sooner than that. He is starting to make a panting noise for a doggy, and he has his own version of “Elmo” (his favorite character) that sounds like “e-lo-e-lo.” Those are pretty amazing milestones.

He’s also consistently signing these words: more, all done, help, eat, milk, ball, book, shoes and play.

It’s not a lot, but to me it’s miraculous and wonderful that Matthew is finally learning the joy of communicating his needs and wishes. We’ve got a long way to go, but we’ve already come so far.

When I’m faced with his shortcomings—with the things he’s NOT doing, with his delays—I sometimes find myself sinking into a dark place inside, overcome with worry about what’s ahead for him.

So these days I am choosing to stay focused on what’s positive for Matthew—not as a way to delude myself about what’s really true, but as my resistance against worry and fear. Because even worse for Matthew than his delays is having a mama who is so overcome with them that she can’t be a good mama anymore.

And what I want most in the world is to be the best mama I can—for all three of my children.