Cuddle up

A nice brief update, as Runa had her first physiotherapy appointment today!

I know the reality is that we have only been waiting roughly three months for this appointment, but being the over anxious, neurotically proactive mother that I am it’s been an incredibly frustrating wait.

The appointment was great and I feel I have come away with practical advice and some basic exercises to support Runa’s development. It was also very nice to able to give myself a big ol’ pat on the back, as Runa has already been doing most of the exercises we were shown.

It was also good to be reassured that anything we’re doing with Ru isn’t hindering her development. I spoke about her bumbo seat which we use sparingly so that she can get involved in play and song time with me and her sister. I spoke about her jumperoo which is also used sparingly to give her the opportunity to weight bear (and give me the opportunity to put her down for two minutes to wash dishes!).
I was reassured that, in moderation, these things certainly won’t hinder Runa’s physical development. Any weight bearing that the jumperoo facilitates will be minimal, but still a little beneficial. The physio did also point out though, that where as these seats might mean little for physical development, having Runa at eye level with her sister and able sit and watch us and interact from an upright position will certainly support her emotional and social development.

We will be focusing for the next wee while on tummy time and sitting. The physio was very impressed with Runa’s neck control and was talking to me about the ways in which tummy time can vary. My favourite part of the appointment came from this discussion.
The physio explained that “even babies lying on their parents chests counts as tummy time.”
I told her that I’d never thought of it that way, “… But luckily that is mine and Runa favourite way to position ourselves”

The physio nodded and told me “well that will be exactly why she has such good neck control”.

I puffed up like a proud little pigeon. Not that anyone would be brave enough to tell me that I hug my children too much, or mutter the dreaded phrase “you’re building a rod for your own back” when I have Runa cuddled up on my chest at any given opportunity, but it is nice to learn that my instincts to mollycoddle and endlessly snuggle my kids have been paying off.

So with a little smug satisfaction I leave you with this message; cuddle your kids as much as you can.

5 tips for talking about special needs kids.

We have been so exceedingly lucky with the endless love and support we have received over the past three months since Runa’s diagnosis, and we thank everyone from the bottoms of our hearts. We know how lucky we are to have such devoted friends and family and we don’t quite know how we would be getting on without them all.

Having spoken to other families going through similar events in their lives, it seems universal that beloved friends and family will unwittingly place their feet firmly in their mouths, often without realising they have caused any upset. It’s during these ranting with other families, complaining about what this person said and what that person said, that I thought “hmm, maybe a handy little guide wouldn’t go a miss.”

It’s so easy to get it wrong. We all have at various points in our lives, myself as much as anyone else. It’s particularly easy to get it wrong when you’re speaking about a sensitive issue (and we all know there is no issue more sensitive than someone else’s child). So, with the help of a few other parents of children with additional support needs I have compiled the following list.

1. Don’t point out how the child is different.

Example: “Oh, she’s not very good at holding things is she?”

This is very unhelpful. Rest assured, as the child’s parents, we have noticed everything they are unable to do, and can name every little quirk that makes them unlike other children. If you are genuinely interested about why milestones aren’t being met, that is fine; but just pointing out ways that a child isn’t meeting the same marks as their peers will just upset the parents.

Instead try: “I’ve noticed that she hasn’t got strong fine motor skills. Why is that?” Showing interest and wanting to learn about the condition shows that you care, and this is welcome.

2. Never presume you know more about the child’s condition than the parent.

Example: “There’s a strong connection with this condition and recurrent chest infections. You better keep an eye on that.”

Every minute of every day parents are thinking about the many consequences their child’s condition can have on their overall health. At least weekly (and, frankly, far more regularly) the parents of these children will be reading articles, stories and medical journals relating to what’s going on with their child, and they will have a very wide ranging understanding of every aspect of the illness. You will not be able to tell them something they don’t already know unless you have a medical degree and are currently doing research on that condition. Sharing information with parents as though they don’t already know is patronising and frustrating.

Instead try: “I read somewhere that this condition can cause chest infections. How are you guys coping with that?” Showing that you are doing your own research makes us feel supported, so long as you recognise that we’ve already done our own.

3. Don’t compare our situation to others unless its genuinely relevant.

For example: “My cousins boyfriends step sister gave birth at 30 weeks. There was a chance the baby would struggle, but now they’re fully grown and studying astrophysics.”

That is wonderful for your cousin’s boyfriends step sister’s child, but this is not the same. They of course had a horrible time at the start of their lives and we are exceedingly happy that they are doing so well, and if you want to share that anecdote unrelated to our child, then we’d love to hear it. But if you compare a developmentally normal child to one with a rare, congenital condition and brain defects who will be lucky to learn how to walk and talk, it is only going to remind the parent of everything their child will not be able to do.

Instead try: “I went to school with a kid with global delay. He integrated really well and made tons of friends.” Don’t have an example like this? That is fine! You don’t need to say anything. Just enjoy getting to know our child.

4. Don’t treat the child like an idiot:

For example: “Who’s a special-weshal ickle wickle lovely baba.”

If we don’t talk to our children like they’re morons, there’s certainly no need for you to. Yes, of course adjust your behaviour realistically, but still treat the child with dignity and respect. Follow our lead, see how we talk to them, hold them, comfort them and treat them. We are the experts on these children, so use our experience to your advantage.

Instead try: “Hello darling, you’re looking good!” speak to them in a similar way you’d speak to any child. Yes, adjust vocabulary and tone to suit their age and stage, but avoid the babbling baby talk.

5. Don’t rain on our parade.

For example: “I know you’re happy that she’s doing so well, but a bad seizure could undo all that development.”

Parents of children with rare, dangerous conditions don’t get many wins. When we do, it may appear to the outside world that we are being blindly optimistic and celebrating in blissful ignorance. This is never the case. The haunting scenarios that swim around our minds are thoughts we would not wish on our worst enemies. We know how dire our situations can be. If we seem like we are unrealistically hopeful about a new development, don’t think for a second that the crushing reality has left our minds.

Instead try: “That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you guys!” Celebrate with us. Know that any negative thoughts you are having, we have already had tenfold and you do not need to vocalise them.

footnote: If you have done something that has been pointed out on this list, know that me and Stewart are not upset with you! We recognise that you (like ourselves) are not infallible and are entitled to make the occasional faux pas. Do not come and apologise to us, just endeavour to avoid doing the same to us and others in the future.

What a Brilliant Baby!

A snap update:

Today Runa made us proud. Obviously both of our children make us proud everyday, but today was particularly lovely.
Ru had a paediatrician appointment, and unlike the last appointment I did not go loaded with questions, but rather with a collection of videos of what I thought might be absence seizures. The paediatrician reassured us that she was not having seizures. A win already!
The Dr asked how Runa was doing developmentally and of course I led with “well, she’s clearly delayed, but…” and was able to fill her in about all of the wonderful things Runa is able to do: how amazingly she’s taken to food, how much progress she’s making with her motor skills, how wonderfully social she is…

The Dr then took Runa for a wee look over, checking all the usual baby things like her neck strength, her visual tracking, how she is on her tummy etc.
She was impressed. Not just “I’ll throw you a bone, because you’ve got a disabled baby” impressed, but genuinely surprised and impressed. She told us that Runa’s development so far surpasses what they would have predicted given her complex diagnosis, she’s doing so well we don’t have to go back for six months and me and her dad were given kudos for being such proactive parents!
So we both left the paediatric ward a little bit weepy and full of pride, beaming at the brilliance of our strong Ru.
Fingers crossed for more appointments this lovely in the future!

Ru Beyond Limits

Runa is six months old today! Six months ago we became a wonderful family for four. I was induced with Runa due to her reduced movements. She was never particularly active when she was renting out my uterus, but her movements went from “not often” to “hardly at all” so I wanted to evict her a couple of days earlier than expected. Looking back now, it all makes sense why she wasn’t terribly active. But that is indeed the power of hindsight.
It was a quick labour, easily half an hour after my first contraction to Ru appearing, but that’s not to say it was easy. It was so fast and frantic that I think me and Runa were both fairly shell shocked afterwards! Having had the perfect labour with Nina, where my desire for a dark room and birthing pool were catered for, it was a far more intense, painful and clinical experience having Runa. Regardless, the end result was the same. I had a beautiful, perfect daughter snuggled up in my arms.

Fast forward 6 months and I still have a beautiful, perfect daughter snuggled up in my arms. Yes, her development is delayed, yes she is not doing all the wonderful things her sister was doing by 6 months, but she is still perfect. She makes me incredibly proud.

Runa is doing great and learning and developing at her own pace. I’ve started reading an inspiring book called “kids beyond limits” (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/13542760-kids-beyond-limits) which has filled me with enthusiasm and hope, and has also made me reflective about the concept of learning. Yes it may be harder for Ru to learn things, but that doesn’t mean she won’t and I will be with her every step of the way, encouraging and facilitating in any way that I can.

Runa is not alone, learning new skills can be tricky for everyone. Learning new skills as an adult can be particularly troublesome, but still entirely possible. I was thinking about this very subject as I was driving to the shop last night. Everything is so easy and automatic now in the car, but when I first started learning to drive a couple of years ago I was a wreck of confusion and over thinking. It took time for my brain to make the connections, but it did. My mind made pathways through persistence, repetition and lots of anxious determination; my current ability to drive (despite regularly stalling and occasionally causing near collisions) is proof of what my brain is capable of!
When my Dad was in his forties he learned French, which is easily more impressive than learning how to drive. His old, alcohol infused brain managed to create connections through regular practise which he was able to utilise during the time he lived in Switzerland. Now, being out of practise, he admits his French has suffered… Regular use is, indeed, la clé du succès. Not all learning is like riding a bike!
Further more proof of “practise makes perfect” comes from my long suffering mother who is forced to play with “Lion Guard” toys every time she comes to visit. She is left with the role of the antagonistic hyenas. My mum is constantly berated by Nina for getting their names wrong, but today she finally got them right! She remembered all three names! Proof of learning in motion. Those all important “hyena name” pathways have been created in her brain!

Learning never stops, young or old, developmentally quirky or neurotypical. It’s about opportunity, determination and repetition. Ru has learned how to do many things in six months and I know she will be learning so much more in the future. It is not about trying to catch her up to where her peers are, it is about her learning as the individual she is and meeting her own potential. Yes, hitting significant ages will naturally cause me to reflect on what Runa is not doing yet, but I am resolved to stay mindful, avoid comparisons and celebrate her learning and achievements as and when they occur: I will give Runa every opportunity in my power to enable her to learn everything she is capable of.