And everyone told me Trev was exactly the kind of kid EI was in place to help.
But deep down in the whisper region of my heart I felt...well...
Especially during the time he was seizure free. Because even though he wasn't making forward developmental progress steadily or quickly. He was moving in that direction. More turtle-ish. Less hare-ish. But he was certainly in the race.
And it left me feeling like a thief. Stealing services from families that truly needed them.
In my pursuit to assuage the guilt complex I even asked to cut services at one point. At the time Trevy was only receiving OT, PT and ST once a month. But it made it easy to slash a therapy because I hated our first OT. I dreaded her visits. She was constantly talking about how she worked with kids much more affected than Trevor...and I always ended up feeling even more guilty by time she left. Coupled with her hinting that she felt Trevor's left handed-ness was a figment of my imagination. I eventually came to a place where I felt she didn't believe Trevor needed her assistance. And I didn't think she was any anyway. In hopes of easing the mommy guilt I cut OT.
Only to be assaulted with guilt from the other side. The mommy warrior side that screams I shouldn't care what anybody thinks. I should reach...without hesitation...at any possible tool available to give Trevor a stronger foundation. Knowing that his seizures although not clinically present...were there...simmering just under the surface. And having no idea how it was impacting this very important time of foundational discovery.
I've never really said any of this outloud before. Not even to Jonathan. Because the truth of it is... I felt shame on both sides. Shamed that I secretly wanted more services when I know how well Trevor is doing. And shamed that I allowed myself to care about looking greedy.
It has been months of inwardly working through these ever changing layers of emotions. Months of learning how to fight the guilt...and be comfortable with not just giving Trevor tools...but asking for them. Months of coming to terms with the truth that Trevor does qualify for services. Even if his needs are less comprehensive. Months of learning how to express dissatisfaction. I actually hate potential confrontation. And months of growing into a place where I'm okay with Trevor growing into who he was Created to be. And coming to peace with the fact that we have been Placed here...with access to these interventions...to accomplish that very thing.
And even though I have no doubt this will be an eternal conflict for me. Because it's the story of my first born life. Which you do know that first-borns are drawn to perfection. And destroyed by less than. Right? Or so I learned in Psyche 101. Course...J (who is also the eldest in his fam) & I once read that two first-borns should never marry! After it was too late! ::smile::
Anyway...I'm happy to report that when our EI case manager approached me last week about not just increasing Trevor's services but actually enrolling him in a Special School...
without any hesitation...
and not even a hint of guilt...
but instead a heart-beat of excitment...
I immediately...emphatically...shame-less-ly...said YES!
starting next month Trevor will be attending a 60 minute program. At a special school. Taught by five therapists. And three other kiddos...matched with similar special needs.
In addition to his now 1x PT and 2x monthly ST and OT. With a new therapist. Whom I adore!