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For parents first learning of a child's disability, shattered expectations are a near-universal reaction, accompanied by a wide variety of emotions, including anger, disbelief, shock, guilt, and sorrow. Essentially, says Margaret Silberman, PhD, a psychologist in Aurora, Illinois, who counsels families with special-needs children, "these parents are grieving, mourning the loss of the idealized child." No one who's been through it would deny that raising a child with special needs is a life-altering experience. But as the Wimsatts and so many other parents have learned, with support, planning, and access to the right resources, it can also be life-affirming.
Starting
Over
In the first days and even months after the diagnosis, parents may feel overwhelmed. Even simple things like giving the news to family and friends can seem daunting, especially for new parents who were dreaming of stringing up balloons and sending out engraved birth announcements. But there's no reason you shouldn't do those very things, says Audrey Lewis, executive director of the support group Friends of SMA: "It's okay to be proud and to celebrate even if your child's not 'perfect.'" Sandra McElwee of Rancho Santa Margarita, California, whose son, Sean, was diagnosed prenatally with Down Syndrome, used his birth announcement to explain the disability to friends and family; the announcement also confirmed that his birth was a joyful event and invited phone calls and visits. "Congratulate us," it read. "We have a baby; we're a family now." If you're not comfortable with a printed message but don't have the time or stamina to call everyone yourself, consider designating a close friend or family member as spokesperson, says Lewis.
Caring
for a baby is demanding under any circumstances, but caring for
one with special needs is often exponentially difficult and demands
inspired solutions. Kathryn McKellar and her husband, Rick Barto,
of Cupertino, California, had to contend with the normal new-baby
stresses of sleep deprivation, diaper-changing, and doctor visits.
But because their daughter Jackie was seriously developmentally
delayed (she was finally diagnosed with mild mental retardation
at age 5), they faced additional challenges. Seeing other children-including
cousins who were progressing normally was particularly hard,
says McKellar. And day-to-day life was draining. "We had to
teach Jackie how to sit, how to crawl," she says. Because Jackie
had difficulty processing sensory information, anything new or
unusual was frightening and overwhelming for her. "Just going
to the doctor was a nightmare," says McKellar. To ease the demands
on their time, McKellar and her husband agreed that she should
take a leave of absence from her job as a business manager. In
fact, many parents find it necessary to reconfigure their lives
— cutting back on work, selling secondary businesses, hiring
full or part-time help
— especially in their child's first few
years.
For parents like Martha and Alexander Bootzin of San Francisco, attending to medical needs can be a round-the-clock job. Their son Everett, was a "micropreemie." Born at 25 weeks and weighing only 1 1/2 pounds, he spent three months in the intensive care unit. When he finally went home at 4 months, pulmonary, eye, and digestive problems necessitated constant monitoring. "He was on oxygen and many, many medications," says his mother. "His intestine was leaking, and he had doctor's appointments nearly every day for months." The most difficult aspect of her son's multiple disabilities, she says, was "our immersion in the medical world" — at a time when she had expected to be worrying about nothing more than getting her baby to sleep through the night. The solution for the Bootzin family was ample support
— in their case, from their church, where Alexander was music director. "We had twelve people we called 'cuddlers'
— nurses, pediatricians, and super-qualified grandmothers
— who'd rotate and come over to take care of Everett. It was just phenomenal," Martha says.
Lean
On Many
In
fact, setting up a support system to help with day-to-day duties
and unanticipated crises, and to give emotional support, is crucial
for parents of a special-needs child. Symme Trachtenberg, director
of community education at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia,
advises parents to start close to home, as the Bootzins did,
with family members, friends, or clergy. However, in a culture
that puts a premium on self-sufficiency, this isn't always as
easy as it sounds, "especially for couples who've worked hard
to become independent," Trachtenberg says. But if you need help,
ask for it, she stresses; don't expect others to intuit your
needs. McKellar wrote to family members right after Jackie was
diagnosed with Developmental problems, both to offer information
and to ask for their support. Her sister Debra in particular
has been an invaluable source of aid, moving to California from
Wisconsin to be closer to the family. "Aunt Dub," as Jackie
calls her, "has been willing to learn along with us," says McKellar,
and can now step in whenever the family needs help, whether that
means taking Jackie out for pizza or calming and comforting her.
While most friends and family can't be expected to offer this
kind of extensive help, they'll almost certainly be willing to
babysit, pitch in around the house, lend a sympathetic ear, or
help with other siblings when time is tight
— as long as you make
your needs known.
To
be the best possible advocate for your child, you need to learn
as much as you can about your child's particular disability
— not
just medical details but information on resources, government
programs, and educational and recreational opportunities. Barbara
Cheadle, founder of the National Organization of Parents of Blind
Children, advises parents to "blink back the tears, reach out,
and get information. If you live in denial, you can't help your
child."
This
is especially true in the years from birth to age 3, when children
can benefit most from early-intervention programs, like those
mandated by the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990. These
programs are tailored to your child's individual needs and offer
physical, psychological, occupational, speech, and other therapies,
provided either in your home or in a center. (For information,
contact your state department of mental health or local board of
education.) For the McElwee's son, Sean, an infant stimulation
program for babies with Down Syndrome-in which parents are taught
to administer physical therapy to help children raise their head,
sit up, and achieve a host of other milestones — was
a huge
benefit. "It sped my son's development incredibly",
says his mother. "He sat up on time and walked at 22
months" — well before she expected.
Other
excellent sources of information and assistance are national
support groups or parent-to-parent networks, some of which focus
on a specific disease or disability. Linda Rowley of Mineral
Point, Wisconsin, whose son, Mitchell, is paralyzed from the
neck down and a result of Spina Bifida, started her own Internet
network, Spina Bifida Parents, six years ago, partly in an effort
to find other families whose children were as severely affected
as her own. "A lot of the other parents I'd met talked
about bracing and walking," she says, "but walking wasn't
even an option for my son, so it was hard to listen to that." Finally
speaking to people who knew what she was going through was "enormously
comforting".
Many
organizations hold annual conventions, which offer an extraordinary
opportunity to meet experts and other parents face-to-face. For
Sandy Taboda of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, whose son Michael lost
his sight at 2 1/2, a visit to a National Federation for the Blind
convention was a turning point in her life and his. When
Michael's blindness was first diagnosed, Taboda says, "the
only thing I could think of was the stereotype of the blind man
on the corner selling pencils — it
was devastating." The
convention not only taught her about the resources available to
her son, but it also completely blasted her misconceptions. "I
saw hundreds of blind individuals who were successfully living
their lives," she says. "It was such a boost to
see what my son might become."
Keeping Your Balance
Daily
care and finding the right services for your child can easily
become the entire focus of your family life, and that can put a
strain on your marriage. For any married couple, it's important
to communicate and make time for each other, but it's especially
critical in special-needs families, where stress can whittle away
at relationships. Ever since their son, Mikey, was born with
Down Syndrome, Michel Paul and her husband Thomas, had been focused
intently on his needs. Then, not long ago, "we realized
we were drifting apart," Michel says. "We saw that
we had to start taking care of ourselves, too." The
Pauls found a sitter they trusted and made going out as a couple
part of their routine. Their rule for those nights out: "not
to worry about our son and not to talk about the hospital."
Even
more critical than spending time alone together is talking openly
about your emotions. "Parents often have particular
trouble discussing 'difficult' feelings —being
angry with their disabled child, for instance," says Stanley
Klein, PhD, author of You Will Dream New Dreams; Inspiring Personal Stories by
Parents of Children with Disabilities (Kensington Books, 2001). But
it's important to remember, he says, that it's normal to feel angry
and frustrated, and sharing these feelings is crucial to help you
deal with them and to cement your marital bond.
Like
spouses, siblings in special-needs families are often unduly
stressed, either from the responsibility of caring for the disabled
child or because they feel ignored. "Any child is going
to miss the attention when there's a new baby in the family," says
Mary McHugh, author of Special Siblings: Growing Up with Someone
with a Disability (Hyperion, 1999), "But if the baby
has a disability, there will be even less time for older siblings." Although
it may be tough to arrange, it's key to spend exclusive time with
each child, says Trachtenberg, and to make sure you don't overburden
siblings with caretaking responsibilities. If things get
rough, look into programs where kids get a chance to blow off steam
with others in similar circumstances, such as the Sibling
Support Project, a Seattle-based organization that promotes
workshops around the country. There is
also an upside for brothers and sisters: Trachtenberg's research
on siblings of children with disabilities showed that they demonstrated "increased
maturity, a sense of responsibility, a tolerance for being different,
and enhanced self-confidence and independence."
In
the end, the greatest asset for special-needs families is a positive
attitude. Raising a child with a disability offers
a host of rewards that may not be evident in the early days, says
Trachtenbert: a new sense of personal competence for parents, the
thrill of watching your child make strides, and increased appreciation
of family and life in general. Of course, it takes time and
experience to get there, along with a concerted effort to find
as normal a life as possible for your child and the entire family. Sandy
Wimsatt, who dreamed of sharing her love of sports and the outdoors
with her son, says success in dealing with a child's disability
comes from adjusting your goals to reflect life's new realities. She
and her husband, for instance, were able to find a wheelchair soccer
program for Michael, and they've taken him to adaptive ski school,
where he's learned to ski using specialized equipment. They've
even managed to go on family biking expeditions with the help of
a heavy-duty bicycle seat. "And so we have our dream," says
Wimsatt. "It's just a different dream now."
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