I think D was about 2 weeks old when his first doc (my favorite of them all) told me “he’s the tortoise, not the hare.” Truer words were never spoken!

D has been pretty globally delayed on a wide range of things. At first the big deal was his suck/swallow reflex, which took weeks to return after his brain injury. He also relied on a caffeine prescription (to remind him to breathe) for about a month longer than most preemies need it, and continued having occasional brady alarms for longer than he was “supposed” to. He even decided to come down with NEC at three months old (one month adjusted) when most preemies get it before term! He’s failed swallow studies, took longer to sit up on his own, to vocalize, to be interested in toys, to stop being a big grump all day, etc. The only thing I can think of that he was faster than normal at was getting his broviac IV out – he got it out in about 4 months, when we were told to expect 8 months. He also started crawling around 11m, which is on the late side of average (I think). Although he babbles a lot, and if we’re generous we could say he has a word or two (hi, dada), and has no real signs of talking or distinct words yet at 15m.

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In a lot of ways, D’s unique medical challenges make it easier for me to accept his delays. Once I really understood and accepted what had happened to him, typical developmental guidelines went out the window. He has very clear, obviously legitimate reasons for being behind! It’s still hard seeing him far behind his peers in some skills, especially now that the medical emergencies are over. I try my best not to compare D to how K was, or to my friend’s kids, but it’s a tough habit to break. Mr T and I are constantly reassuring ourselves that he really will do X some day. Probably the ones who really have to grow and change are Mr T and me – we need to stop anxiously awaiting the next milestone, and start relishing all of the fantastic things he
can do! I find that when we remind each other of what we were worried about 2 months ago (cruising in only one direction, and drinking from a straw come to mind) and how now they’re no big deal, it’s easier to remember that soon (or someday) all these other things will be no big deal as well. 

One of the fellows who helped with D’s surgeries told me about his son who also had a brain injury at birth. Thankfully, his son was big enough to get cooling therapy, and was now 2 years old and doing great. He said that he and his wife are constantly surprised by how great he is, and that you never know what they’ll be able to do (or what won’t be impossible for them) until they do it. In a way it would be so much easier to know what D’s specific limitations will be, or when he’ll finish his race (keeping with the tortoise metaphor) but all things said and done, it’s better to think of D having limitless possibilities and milestones ahead of him. 

We went to our NICU’s holiday party this past weekend (the first NICU, at the hospital where D was born). We got to see 2 of our 3 main doctors, and they were so thrilled to see how chunky he was, most of all. I think they both had hopes that he would be off of the feeding tube by now, but were happy he was at least getting some food by mouth. They thought my descriptions of his other milestones were totally in line with his prematurity, and were happy. They all commented on how alike the boys look (see, comparisons are so hard to avoid!) and how handsome they are.

Those sorts of functions always leave me with mixed emotions. Everyone’s always thrilled to see him and says he looks great, but then wants to hear a scorecard of his milestones. That’s the harder part for me! I am always trying to spin it in a positive light like, “oh he’s such a great cruiser, I know he’ll be walking any minute!” or “he gets formula overnight but he loves eating baby food during the day!” If I don’t shed an obvious positive light on it all, I feel like they think I’m asking for sympathy or something – one of the nurses at this event started to reassure me / bring me down, a la my suggested language-to-avoid, “oh it must be so hard for you, you’ve had to deal with so much, how are you doing?” I just told her we’re so much better than where we’ve been, and we’re all doing great.

If your child has some delays, how do you deal with it emotionally? Do you expect that they’ll “catch up” soon, or are you playing the long game (like me)?