Its Okay, Mom

Honestly, I debated on whether to even write this post. In writing it, I know that I'm opening myself up to judgement and possibly even criticism. Even worse, I'm opening my child up to judgement, and I hate that. But if I don't write this post, then I'm perpetuating a cycle of thought that I'm (in all honesty) just over.

Let me start at the beginning. At Juliet's 6 month well check, things were going great. She had just started sleeping through the night and finally seemed like a happy baby. She was sitting up, rolling over, eating well--essentially doing all the things that 6 month olds should be doing.

By eight and half months though, I was getting a little concerned. She wasn't anywhere close to crawling (Libby crawled at 7 months), she wasn't pulling up, and (most concerning to me) she wasn't babbling at all. I worked early intervention for about a year before Libby was born so I consider myself pretty well versed in developmental milestones. I'm also well aware that there is a wide range of normal--I practically pounded that thought into parents' heads at my last job. But its different when its your own kid. And its different when your gut tells you that something is just not right. Babbling (the ba-ba-ba-ba, da-da-da-da stuff) typically emerges around 5 months. We were three and half months past that point and Juliet still wasn't using any consonant sounds, despite my best efforts. I also wasn't convinced that she knew her name or the names of common everyday objects ("Look at the dog!" would elicit virtually no response). However, she made good eye contact, seemed interested in people and faces and was very attached to me--all good signs! I hemmed and hawed about how to handle my concerns. I didn't want to be one of "those" parents who doesn't allow their child to develop on their own timeline. I didn't want to overreact. But I also strongly believe in the importance of early intervention and if there was a problem, I knew we stood a much better chance of easily correcting it if we addressed it early on. Also I was tired of Googling into the wee hours of the night.

So I called Help Me Grow, an early intervention service provided by the county. All states have early intervention services and its usually free of charge to do an evaluation. I figured that there were two possible outcomes--either they would tell me Juliet was fine (and I was crazy) and I could start sleeping better at night, or they would tell me she needed services and we could get the ball rolling on helping her. Either outcome seemed better than where I currently was.

Two lovely women came out to the house and sat on my living room floor for over an hour with Juliet and me, watching her play and talking to me. I told them that there was a high likelihood that I was overreacting. I told them that Libby hit all of her milestones spot on, if not early, and that I was trying my best not to compare the girls. I told them that I knew there was a wide range of normal. I told them that I knew that language development is incredibly varied before age three. I told them that most of my mom friends who I had talked to had told me that Juliet was fine. They finished their evaluation and told me that Juliet qualified for services, not only in speech but also in gross motor skills. Honestly, I was kind of taken aback. In one way, it was a bummer. As a parent, you just want life to be as easy as possible for your child. To know that at nine months old, my baby was already fighting her first "battle" was a bit disheartening. In another way, it was a relief--I wasn't crazy. I hadn't imagined all this. My instincts and knowledge base were reliable. And most importantly, we could start taking steps to fix the problem.

(Let me stop here and clarify two things: 1) Juliet is slightly delayed in a few developmental areas. We are not talking major disabilities or lifelong problems here. With the help of early intervention, she will likely be completely fine and caught up by age two, if not much sooner. 2) With that in mind, let me say that I am so very aware that in the grand scheme of things, this is not a difficult battle that we are fighting. There are so many parents and children who are going through things I can't even begin to imagine. I feel so blessed to have two healthy children.)

The women from Help Me Grow assured me that Juliet would receive the services she needed to reach her milestones and that we would have all kinds of support along the way. I really can't say enough wonderful things about Help Me Grow in the short time we have been working with them. The people are wonderful. Our tax dollars will cover services for Juliet like speech therapy, physical therapy, Mommy and Me music classes, playgroups, and any equipment she may need (such as special inserts in her shoes when she begins walking).

Want to know some really fantastic news? In the week between developing Juliet's Family Service Plan (an IEP of sorts, for you education folk out there) and meeting with the therapists, Juliet began babbling and transitioning in and out of a sitting position on her own. Because of this, both the speech therapist and the physical therapist are super optimistic that she will not need intensive services and that she will not need services for an extended period of time.

Why am I writing all of this? Because in this age of social media, where parents are constantly bombarded with "Look at what my kid can do!" from all angles, its really hard to be a parent whose kid maybe isn't doing all of those things. For the past few months, when I sat down to write Juliet's monthly updates here on the blog, it was honestly really difficult at times. I saw on Facebook all of the things that other babies her age were doing, and it was frustrating. No one posts captions that say, "Eight months old and still not babbling! :)" under their uploaded photos. If I'm being really, really honest, it was difficult because I was afraid of the judgement. I was afraid that if people knew what my baby wasn't doing, then they might think less of me as a parent. They might assume that I'm not reading to her enough, that I didn't give her enough tummy time as an infant, that I didn't feed her or immunize her or sleep train her properly. There is so much judgement in this parenting world. I've been guilty of it too. But I'm here to tell you that sometimes you do everything right. Sometimes you really and truly do every little thing to best of your ability. You raise one kid who hits every milestone exactly when they're supposed to and has super amazing language skills. And then you have another baby, and you try to do everything the same. Except you're busier and life is happening so sometimes you read one bedtime story instead of two and you skip bath for like three nights in a row and you let her watch like ten minutes of the Today show with you because good God, you just need to finish this workout and hear an adult voice. And when, despite your best efforts, things don't turn out so Pollyanna-perfect with that baby, you blame yourself a little bit. But guess what?

Its not your fault. As much as we like to think that we can control who are children are and what they accomplish, we just can't. Show me a successful breastfed baby and I'll show you an equally successful bottle fed one. Show me a struggling third grade reader who watched TV as an infant and I'll show you one who listened to Mozart every night. Sure, we want to make the best decisions we can and give our kids a fighting chance in every possible way, but sometimes it's just.not.going.to.matter.

And your baby, that same baby who is rolling when other babies her age are crawling and is cooing when other babies her age are babbling, is no less important than the crawlers and the babblers. And neither are you. You're both doing the best you can.

I don't know if any of this will resonate with anyone who reads this blog (shoutout to my grandmothers!), but I had to write it, even if just for myself. I had to know that someone, somewhere in some corner of cyberspace told moms everywhere that its okay. That its time to stop comparing and start supporting. That there's no shame in having a child who does things on a different timeline. That raising children is not a contest.

One day very soon, my Juliet will be walking and talking and this will all be a distant memory. But I don't ever want to forget how this feels. Because one day, at a playground, or at preschool drop off, or on social media, I'll see a mom whose child is struggling. Maybe it will be obvious, maybe it won't. But I want to remember that its not my place to compare or to judge or to offer unsolicited advice. We're all in this together. We're all doing the best we can.