Thursday, September 28, 2017

The next hurdle

I've lost track of the number of times I've started this post. Maybe its out of fear of what will come from revealing too much, that will somehow translates to those reading as a justification for infertility or that somehow I'm less deserving to parent. But given the closing of the ear tube chapter and my previous experience with falling outside the norm and how seeking help lead to a much happier outcome, silence no longer makes sense.

So here we go. Please bear with me.

In June, Grey and I sat down to a meeting with the director at the daycare the Beats current attend. We were 3 months into being a part of this new center, but already things were rocky both there as well as at home. Sitting across the table from the director, she told us she had concerns for both kids and suggested it would be beneficial to reach out to special education through the school district to request assessments.

Somehow, I managed to hold back the tears that were choking me, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand and getting the ball rolling on seeking help. But there was so much doubt that surfaced that day as I was told both of them were struggling. Thoughts like "maybe this was why you are infertile" and "you've failed them as a parent" whipped through my brain as I made those first phone calls.

And if I'm being honest, those thoughts still creep in.

After a couple of false starts due to the pending move and them being aged-out of one system, the official requests were put in and all the paperwork was scanned, copied, filled out and sent off. A phone call with the special education director left me feeling hopeful of a process that could work and plans were quickly made for school visits. As of last Monday, following their initial round of assessments and feedback that the Beats had done well, I was feeling hopeful. After all, both of them have also been maturing and we were getting use to the center. Maybe we were turning a corner?

Yesterday, that fallacy came crashing down. After being sent home with teacher assessments (which I don't believe they intended me to review), I found myself in full panic mode. As Grey reviewed the forms, remarking in disbelief what he was seeing, I fired off an email to the center director informing her of my concern and demanding an immediate meeting. I was so upset that I couldn't look at my email until the morning for fear of the response.

Needless to say, I didn't sleep much anyway.

Today has been a hard day. I've done more crying than I have in a long time. I want my kids to be okay and I want to give them the help they need in order to thrive in this world. I'm also acutely aware that no parent reacts well when they hear anything negative about their child(ren). Unpleasant news is probably the hardest thing any teacher will ever deliver.

But I also have been feeling betrayed. I feel I was lead to believe something (that everything was getting better and would be okay) only to have that all ripped away. The foundation I thought was being laid is actually filled with cracks. And I struggle because that foundation is meant for the Beats, resulting in me in a mode where I cannot even interact with their teachers as trust has been broken.

So we're at a point where we're rebuilding. An impromptu meeting with the other center's director helped set us down that road and I'm trying to put a plan into place for going forward. But damn it's all so hard and it makes me question myself and my role again and again. And it makes me particularly testy with anyone who decides now would be a good time to offer advice.

Tonight I'm facing this next hurdle, even though I really don't want to.


  1. Hey, I'm sorry you are going through this. I can only imagine how stressful it is to be wondering if your children are OK and to not have answers. I hope you and the Beats are treated with compassion and respect and you are able to get the informatoin you need soon.

  2. You have not failed them as a parent. I'm sorry you are all going through this and I hope that you get the answers you are seeking very soon. Sending positivity and hope your way.

  3. That sounds really hard. I'm sorry you are going through it. I hope that the Beats find something that works for them and start making some good progress

  4. I'm so sorry you're going through this. I used to work in early intervention, and I can tell you that parental guilt is very common, but please believe me when I tell you that nothing you did caused whatever struggles the Beats are dealing with. I hope the process is more straightforward from now on and that they get whatever help they need. Just remember: you are the expert when it comes to knowing your kids, and you are their best advocate.

  5. Bless your heart. It is such a tough experience. We had a very similar situation when D started daycare at newly 3 after spending 3 years in my MIL's care. We never heard about any issues until the daycare became part of a resiliency study grant that a local agency was performing. Suddenly it was like night and day, and the teachers' evaluations were completely opposite of what we saw. We felt so blindsided. I'm not going to lie and say things were perfect after that, but I will say that particular class and teacher were not good for D, and he had better experiences with other teachers. He is in 3rd grade now, and well, that has had its own challenges. Bottom line, I empathize and you are doing what you need to do. You have not failed them. I had - and still have honestly - the same thoughts about how maybe there was a reason for our IF. It's not true, and I'm saying that as much for me as for you. Hugs xo.

  6. Oh, Cristy. My heart breaks for you. How hard to hear this, how hard to have this crash against the experiences of infertility, how hard to feel at odds with the center people. What you have, though, is this: a fierce love for your children and a high ability to investigate and advocate for them. You are a good mom. xo

  7. I'm sorry to hear you have this hurdle. But how wonderful for the Beats that they have you to advocate for them.

  8. I'm so sorry this is happening to you and Grey and the Beats. It's hard, navigating these waters. This post shows how much love and fierceness they have in their corner in you. Sending thoughts.

  9. I promise: no advice. Just a hug. This is really really hard.

  10. Sending some belated (((hugs))). You have not failed your children. Your love & concern for them shines through this post. <3


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