My quiet social Butterfly

(written on September 24th)

Being a Mommy has been one of the most rewarding jobs I have ever had.  I have spent many, many years raising and teaching other people's children from being a summer babysitter to a nanny to an early childhood teacher.  Knowing that this child is mine, a part of me, and is forever linked to me is a huge motivator to provide the best childhood possible.

Recently, being a Mommy has forced me to face a whole new set of challenges.  Everyone knows I read too much, Google too often, and set the bar pretty high for myself as a mother.  I overanalyze every milestone Lincoln passes, I research every health topic possible, and I compare myself to my friends and my child to their children.  This character trait has been okay since Lincoln has always wooed everyone he meets - his daycare providers, doctors, even strangers in the grocery store.  I am so proud of his social interactions and how he can instantly make a stranger smile.  Norma raved about his fine motor skills and his strong body.  Ms. Yasmin could not get enough of his silly games and how he connected with the other children.  He is so smart and all of his grandparents think the world of him :)

But, this past doctor well-visit was different.  I brought up my concern that although Lincoln is so social, uses gestures, has mastered many signs, and can usually convey his needs - he has no real, consistent words.  He doesn't say Mama or Dada purposefully (he can babble those sounds, but doesn't use the words), and he is beginning to get quite frustrated when we don't answer his grunts right away.  It was really hard for me to say out loud, and the doctor's response did not put me at ease.  She recommended a full evaluation for speech and language when I thought she would go the "let's wait and see" route.  My heart sank, my brain went crazy, and I felt sad.

I took him to Columbus Speech and Hearing this past week, and he did so well with the 1.5 hours evaluation.  He won the speech pathologist over in a matter of minutes and aced all parts of the eval other than the expressive language piece.  It was so hard to sit back and watch him struggle through those sections and not jump in and help him with the words.  The teacher in me knew the point of every question/task, and I knew he was struggling.  My perfect little boy was showing signs of not being perfect, and, again, I was sad.

The speech pathologist said it is still so early in his development, and he could just be a late talker.  His language may take off and we will never know if it is was age, maturation, or the therapy, but we are going to move forward with speech for now.  I want to get the process and routines started before the baby comes, and I obviously want what is best for Lincoln.  Nothing bad can come from therapy and this label will never define who Lincoln is as a child.

The hardest part of this whole process is fearing the unknown.  Why is he not talking?  Is the something "wrong" bigger than what we think?  Will he struggle through school?  Will he be that Kindergartener who cannot speak in clear sentences or have no friends in high school because his communication is lacking?  Google has not been my friend.  Terms such as apraxia, severe speech disorder, long-term therapy pop up all over my screen, and as much as I try to put it in perspective I fear the worse.  Last night I spent an hour crying in bed - whole body crying, ugly crying, hyperventilating crying.  Crying from nerves and anxiety; crying from the realization that this parenting stuff is really hard.

Lincoln is my day and night.  He is the brightest light in my world.  He is still my perfect, unique, happy, loving little boy.  I know I will hear Mama one day, and you better believe when I do I will be clapping my hands, smiling, and crying all at the same time.