Moms of SNC (Special Needs Children):….some reflections and even a little humor….You know you have a special needs kid when….
-the pediatrician insists you call her by her first name.
-your kid’s accordian medical file is 4 feet thick.
-you feel you’re constantly in survival mode.
-your medical deductible is met by mid-January.
-you go for a highly specialized procedure (e.g., a colonoscopy, an EEG, an MRI), and the tech states “you look so familiar; have you been here before?”
-you loathe the “developmental milestones” checklist at the pediatric “well baby” (HA!) visits.
-“friends” don’t ask you to watch their kids because they fear you’ll ask them to return the favor.
-your child is 18 mos. old and you long to have a book barbeque with your copies of “What to Expect: the Toddler Years” and “What to Expect: the Preschool Years”.
-you feel yourself stifling laughter when others complain about their child’s “tragic” ear infection or (gasp!), their ordeal with immunizations or a blood draw.
-you find yourself resenting any therapist's criticism of your little one's mannerisms ("fix your legs!" "don't rub your head!" "don't flap, just give a clap!").
-your mail carrier must think your home is a pseudo-infirmary based on the bundles of Blue Cross/Blue Shield statements you receive.
-your child is 2, and has a “medical resume” of sorts to facilitate succinct meetings with new medical professionals who are taking on your child’s case.
-you deny your anger to a counselor, yet you long to create an iron-on tee-shirt that reads: “Screw you! He’s special needs!” (This could also apply to bumper stickers, key rings, personal pens; hey, maybe I’m on to a new merchandising trend!)…
-you have a vast reference section under the category of your child's illness (also includes at least 5 three-ring binders with 8-pouch pockets sheets filled with medical business cards and contacts).
-the quote “it’s nothing that a little prozac and polo mallet won’t cure” is especially poignant.
-you see that doctors are human and insecure when they realize they can’t help your child; ("So that's why they call it "medical practice"; I get it!").
-out of respect and empathy, you never turn your head to look at a handicapped person, and you are especially irked when you see people stare.
-you understand “McDonald’s Envy” (i.e., kids at McDonald’s playground who do so easily what your child cannot) all too well.
-you get excited to meet another parent “in your shoes”, as if another child with the same malady is something to celebrate (?)… (It’s so odd!)
-your child’s name is permanently etched on your church’s prayer list, and you are on church prayer lists in at least 5 other states.
-upon overanalysis of your childhood, you are convinced that you had the same problem as your child, but to a lesser degree.
Faux Pas:
-being overly nice to my kid
-ignoring my kid
-treating my kid like there’s nothing wrong
-Yes, that’s right, you can’t win!!!
The Sunny Side of having a SNC:-a SNC is a “bad friend” filter.
-all sorts of medical professionals seem to immediately recognize you when you’re out and about (“all this and fame too!”).
-you lose all old neuroses (I suppose you trade them for new ones, but let’s be positive); a clean house, for example, is out of the question.
-you gain immediate respect from strangers/friends by your “in-depth” medical knowledge; (aka, a self-taught PhD in the category of Williams Syndrome, for example).
-you get to take vacations to many big and exciting cities; “Pack your bags, hon! We’re going to Boston! (Children’s, that is…)”
-it's December, and upon analysis of the full year's worth of medical statements, you smile and think, "Gee, for what we pay out in medical premiums and deductibles, I really got my money's worth!" (It's like an all-u-can-eat medical buffet, and you're a hungry, 500-lb. fat person. A more succinct way of stating this is "the all-u-can-eat medical buffet is losing money on me!").
You have a great excuse for:
-complaining
-not showering today
-being late
-being forgetful
-being a sloth
-maniacal depression
-not paying bills
-not attending playgroups
-not shaving
-not attending the company Christmas Party, and all other outside company “fun”
-being rude to telemarketers (or, in my case, bill collectors), parents, and spouse
-not having sex
-being hostile in traffic
-in sum, total self-centeredness
-you truly appreciate every developmental milestone that your child has mastered.
-you realize that your child is somehow God’s instrument (although sometimes it feels like he’s God’s hammer!)
-you cash in your innocence for wisdom (or is this a disadvantage?).
-you begin to understand the essence of unconditional love, and strive to give it.
-In this sometimes dark place, you are able to see more vividly Christ’s face and God’s fingerprints.