January Evaluations

Evaluation is really becoming a word that I loathe.  It sucks as a teacher/professional...but no one wants to hear it as a Mommy.  Last week, we had our NICU follow-up, which I think is really neat.  We had the same set of therapists from the NICU in the hospital that saw Parker when he was born.  There are also nurses and a neonatal doctor in the room.  It is always nice to see kind, familiar faces.  It is also a good chance for me to recap Parker's history with therapy-- I am a firm believer that reflection and summary allow for great epiphanies.  

The bottom line from this evaluation was that Parker's gross motor skills are strong-- he is standing, army-crawling, sitting up, etc....but his receptive language is alarmingly weak.  Meaning he isn't processing or is very slowly processing the language around him---which is a delay that sneaks up on you in some ways.  A gross motor delay is very clear...is he walking? no? okay. delay... We get CONSTANT comments about what a good baby he is, and how easy and mellow he is when we are in otherwise tense situations.  No stranger danger, no tears when Mommy leaves, very rare tantrums.  I love his sweet little personality with all my heart, but I am afraid.  I refuse to get too far into the "he isn't...." thoughts, but some days, it gets so, so scary.  The panic surges to the top of my throat when I don't reel my thoughts in off that path of "What am I not doing for him?"  

 Tomorrow, Parker has his Early Intervention 12-month evaluation.  I decided to look at the evaluations his therapists do beforehand to guide the conversation and decision-making.  He is showing a 76% delay in receptive language.....in other words, his receptive language is at that of a 3 month old.  Obviously, I almost threw up after reading that. 

The best that I can do is fight for more services for him and to relieve myself of some of the guilt that comes from not spending every second trying to make sure he is doing something purposeful.  Sometimes, you have to clean or shower or eat or breathe.  I also need to relieve myself of the fear that I feel.  Will he speak?  Will he read?  Will he write?  Will he find what he loves?  I need to let those questions go for a while.  

This weekend will be full of what I like to call "Snuggle Minutes," where P and I stop what we are doing and smush really close.  They are my favorite thing in the whole world.