Today was rough.
Based on Brad's report from last week, I had visions of Noah happily running over to the swing or bouncy ball, not even caring if I was there or not. After all, he loves those things. Anything involving movement.
Unfortunately, it didn't quite go the way I thought it would.
He knew where he was and why he was there. The big issue isn't that he doesn't like swinging or sliding or bouncing. It's that he wants to do it on his terms, not because someone else is making him. She pushes him to leave his inner little world and join ours. And that totally overwhelms him. With Brad, this was all new and fun.
But this time? This time he wanted his mommy. As soon as we got there, he buried his head in me, attempting to escape from the therapist. Not because she's mean... in fact, I don't think I could've picked a sweeter, more perfect person for him... but because he understood what was going on.
I had to stand up in order to get him to let go of me, and he proceeded to cry for the next half hour. All through the swinging, the sliding, the hopping... he boo-hoo'ed. He would reach his hand out for me to grab him while he was stuck on the swing. It broke my heart. Finally, I had to walk out of the room in hopes that he would calm down and focus on the therapist. The tears would stop for a few minutes at a time, but mostly, he cried and cried.
I have no problem being a tough mom. I can turn off the urge to scoop him up and kiss him all over, if it means it will help him in the long run. Because if I rescue him now, he'll still be doing this at 15.
Eventually, I came back in and held him while we played with some colored rice. He finally calmed down enough to sit on his own and play. I think things will get better eventually, but it may take a while.
His therapist told me that her kids always cry when mom is there. Mom is their safety net.
She explained that it's not even the autism usually. That at 2/3, there's so much going on with them... one minute, they want independence; then the next, they want to be a baby again. It's a combination of that, a little separation anxiety, and the therapy itself.
I just have to keep telling myself that it will get better. I just have to hold onto that.
Like I said, I couldn't have picked a more perfect therapist for him. She's so sweet, but more importantly? She gets him. She's finally able to explain to me what's going on in his brain, and why he does certain behaviors. She told me how to help him, and I swear I almost hugged her for helping us so much.
We also discussed speech therapy for him, and I told her my concerns. The main problem is that he's not engaged enough to want to talk. He's so sensory-driven that communicating just isn't on his radar. So sitting him down at a desk and trying to force him to say "bubble", when all his body wants to do is seek more sensory input, just won't work. Not for him.
So my next task is to try and find a SLP that also uses some sensory integration tools to motivate him to talk. She gave me a couple of names, so I'm glad to have a place to start.
*sigh*
There's just so darn much to think about. And so much work to put in for such a simple task... one that most people don't even worry about with their kids.
I was explaining to a friend the other day how all of this doesn't really get me down (not unless I let it). But it does overwhelm me sometimes.
Anyway, I know this is probably a big snore for a lot of my readers. But I'm a documenter, so I want to make sure I write down our journey in all of this before I forget. :)
I mean, thank the Lord for blogs, because baby books? Um, yeah. Whoops...
4 comments:
You will appreciate these journal entires later on when you look back and read how much he has progressed. I love reading about updates, especially about Noah! He is so adorable. I know my friend put her son into speech therapy, about the same age as Noah, and he excelled. He barely talked at all, and he can't STOP talking now. It just takes a special trigger for some kids to get going.
Hailey - I will never tire of reading about Noah's progress. I say prayers for him at night after I pray for my kids.
It's 100% natural that he would cry during OT. Henry has been in OT for almost 2 1/2 years and sometimes when we're in the waiting room we can still hear him crying all the way in the back room where he's getting therapy. We have the best OT in the city of Chicago. It's because she is pushing him out of his comfort zone. Does it KILL me? Yes of course but I know it's helping him too so I can bear it. Some days I want to run back there and rip him out of the room and comfort him.
Henry had similar issues when he started speech. A good Speech therapist who works with autism will know how to integrate movement and sensory input into speech therapy. The 2 can actually go together quite nicely with a big bouncy ball or "hugs and squeezes". Henry still likes his sensory breaks. :-)
You will figure all this out. It just takes time and I'm still overwhelmed some days but it's getting so much better.
This is so interesting for me. Also, i agree with Heather. A good SLP would not have a kid like him sitting at a table with flash cards for 30 minutes.
The crying for mom is totally on. When I did First Steps, my kids always cried for the entirety of the first few sessions. Moms cried a lot too. You, my friend, are doing amazingly.
GOOD LORD, friend, do I understand. I SO UNDERSTAND.
We started Liv with just OT. For six months, she only got OT because she wasn't even remotely interested/capable of speech in any way. And her sensory issues were so huge, they usurped everything.
It's only been in the last year that she gets speech too. And we have an excellent SLP who basically just lays on the floor with Liv, or plays outside with her, or eats lunch with her, and works her speech activities INTO what Liv is already wanting to do.
I get the struggle. I strap Liv into contraptions, and leg braces, that make her scream because she doesn't like it. At the same time, being strapped into those things are necessary for her to strengthen her legs so she can learn to walk.
It's a fine line of parenting, sternness, and heartbreaking mom feelings that we special needs parents walk.
You're doing an amazing job. :) But if you ever need to talk, know that I get it.
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