our sweet finn wilde.

it seemed as though finn baby was always trailing a bit behind from the start.

he was two weeks late arriving in the first place, and finally came out through blunt force.  i still remember the look on the ob's face when she came rushing in to our delivery room between pushes and told me it was time to go to the operating room, that finn wasn't doing good.  she cut him out, blue and quiet with a cord twice around his neck.  his apgar scores were low.  they finally forced a couple irritated cries out of him, and then handed him to billy.  i looked on from the table with a tired grin on my face, tears rolling sideways into my hair.  
he was perfect.

he was alert from the beginning, with big eyes open throughout  most of the day.  he was peaceful, too, unless he was hungry.  and i spent most of his first nine months with him strapped to my body, carrying him around everywhere i went.  because he loved holding on to me so much, and because i loved holding on to him back.

he was late with all of his milestones from the get go.  when we laid him on his stomach for "tummy time" he would just turn his head and lay on one side of his face, staring and cooing happily at a toy.  he didn't have any inclination to hold his head up for months and months.  he was late sitting up by himself.  he was late pulling himself up to stand.  he was late crawling.  his teeth came late.  he was a slow and cautious walker.  at the time, we didn't think too much of anything.  he always eventually mastered these skills, it just took him a bit longer.  when he was slow to start talking, many friends and family members reassured me- boys are later, he's just so laid back, you anticipate his every need he hardly needs to ask for anything, etc.

at finn's 15 month appointment the doctor mentioned that finn should have five words that he used regularly.  i was a bit surprised.  he had, in the past, said mama and dada and baba, but he didn't use any of these words regularly or necessarily correctly.  we could count on one hand how many times he seemed to say them with intent.  i told the doctor we were a bit concerned, and he said if he didn't have many more words by 18 months then we could talk about doing early intervention speech therapy. 

we also were sent back to his ent doctor to have the tubes in his ears checked, under the pretense that if he wasn't hearing well he wouldn't be talking well.  i can't tell you how hard i prayed that those tubes were blocked and he couldn't hear a darn thing.  because i knew that was an easy fix.  a tube replacement and the words would start pouring out for sure. 
he passed all three of his hearing tests.

billy and i kind of took this in stride and thought that finn was just going to be later at mastering this talking thing, as he was with the rest of his skills.  the strong and silent type, you know.  but in the past month we noticed that finn seemed to be talking less.  now instead of babbling to himself in his crib in the mornings he was quiet or just hummed a bit.  we realized he hadn't said mama or dada in weeks, and that he had only said baba a few times.  he wasn't babbling much at all.  we began to grow more concerned and started doing some research online about where finn should be with his speech and what our options were for speech therapy.  we called his pediatrician and he went ahead and referred us to the early intervention program.  we set up a time for someone to come out and meet with us at the end of the month, the earliest available appointment.

we felt good about not waiting until finn's 18 month appointment to get early intervention services, and about being proactive about his speech, but in the process of researching his speech delays we came across many other "red flags".  little quirks and funny habits that we just chalked up to finn's interesting little personality we discovered were actually markers for autism.  he has never been able to point or wave bye-bye.  if we point to something he can't follow our point, he just looks at our finger.  he can easily get obsessed with spinning things like ceiling fans, wheels, certain toys, and play with them for long periods of time.  we realized most of our playtime with him involved following him around trying to get him to interact with us.  he never brings us a toy or shows us something, he doesn't know how to ask us for help.  he doesn't pay any attention to what we're doing, nevermind try to imitate us.  the more we read the more we realized and the more we started to panic.  our minds started racing back to all of the funny little incidents that had taken place over the course of his life.  like at the memorial day picnic when he laid in a hammock for an hour, content to be pushed back and forth in the breeze while the other toddlers explored.  like all winter long when his favorite toy was the oscillating space heater.  like when he was a teeny tiny baby and loved hanging upside down.  we read that batting at his ears wasn't necessarily because his tubes were bothering him, and that flapping his arms when he was excited or upset might not be some kind of misplaced wave.  we learned that all of these behaviors could be signs.  warning signs.

on the other hand, finn has a lot of positive habits and traits that we find encouraging.  he still loves to be held, touched, tickled.  he prefers to hold hands.  if you're sitting on the swing with him, he'll rest his hand on your arm affectionately, or lean his head against you.  he gives big hugs and kisses.  he smiles, he laughs heartily.  he clearly understands us and follows directions when he wants to.  he will scamper into our room at night as soon as we tell him it's time to read "night night books" and have his "baba".  he will lead me down the hallway in the morning by the hand when i tell him it's time to go have breakfast.  he makes eye contact.  he plays peek-a-boo.  in the past couple of days, we have clung to these little things like inflatable rafts in a foreboding ocean.  we hold on to them with hope in our hearts and lumps in our throat.  we are afraid.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

i wrote those words in june.  i was scared to post them then.

i know i have been absent from the blog for awhile... months... putting every ounce of me into finn's little self.  spending my days searching through his eyes, trying to find him and be exactly what he needed me to be.  i'm still doing that.  but i'm not so scared anymore.  i want to talk about what we're going through, because it helps me, and because i think it's important.

there is nothing harder than admitting that your baby might have challenges.

of all the things billy and i have been through, this hits the hardest.  it sits the heaviest.  it hurts the most. but we found that we were much more comfortable talking about the hard stuff with the risk of doing too much, than ignoring the tough issues and defending our boy at the risk of doing too little.

we're all in.

when the time came last week for his early intervention evaluation, i prayed that the team would show up and tell me that i was crazy.  that i was a neurotic, hyper, overparenting mom who needed to give her son some time and stop being a hypochondriac. i prayed that it was me.  i prayed that they would tell me i was the one who needed therapy.

they didn't.

so onward we go, full speed ahead, with a developmental therapist and a speech therapist coming once each week, and amazingly supportive friends and family at our sides. we are doing everything we can and more to make sure he has every possible resource available to him.  and he's lucky, because he does.

the most important thing to take from this blog is exactly what finn's sweet babysitter, sandie, said to me on thursday after i struggled through reporting his poor evaluation scores:

"well meg, he's still finn.  he's still just finn."

and it's true.  he's our sweet, funny, good natured, loving little boy.  

he's as happy as a clam and has no idea that we're worrying ourselves sick over him.  i hope he stays that way.  i think he will.  god knows if he asked for the moon, or heck, if he even learned to just point to it, we would go up and get it for him.

i'd like to use the blog to post some updates on how he's doing and on what we think about early intervention overall.  so far it's been a wonderful and encouraging process.  i hope that you all will keep finn in your thoughts, but most of all that you won't hold this blog against him.  by all accounts he is still just a happy little boy that toddles around our house with a ball in one hand and a fistful of cheerios in the other.  we are certainly a long way off from sticking him with any type of label, and at this point are just treating his delays with extra help.  at best, it could turn out to be nothing and no harm will come from the extra attention.  at worst, it could turn out to be something and he will have been equipped with every tool in the shed from the get go.

sometimes these internet lives only show the happy things.  and i didn't want to be scared that finn might have some challenges ahead of him and be silent about my fears.  i wanted to say that finn might have some challenges ahead of him and that's okay.  and we're going to talk about them.  and we're going to deal with them.  and darn it if we aren't going to love him to pieces along the way.