An open letter to parents of young babies and children struggling with developmental disorders and to people in general.

Parents are applauded for their courage, tenacity and undying love for their children who are struggling with developmental disorders or are simply children.

For people in general, get over yourself and show some empathy with those who struggle.

Breastfeeding And Mommy Bell

I went to the lab early this morning for a blood test. I didn’t have an appointment. I knew then that my wait would not be short. Just as I correctly assumed, there were a lot of people sitting in the waiting room. Some dating and some not. I came prepared with my headphones and a good audiobook on my kindle. When I got ready to wait, I immediately noticed a young mother with a small child. He still couldn’t have been one year old. I noticed them because the boy was active and he was learning to walk and he was into everything as in my opinion he should be. He exhibited a curious demeanor. I saw the mother look furtively around her as the boy began to pull magazines from the table to the floor and she came over and guided him firmly but gently back to his seat. She said firmly, “No!” It should not be messy.

With nothing more to do with her curious and active little mind, of course the child starts crying and then starts pulling on the mother’s blouse. Having been there myself and having friends with children, I knew immediately what was happening. The child was breastfed and now wanted to be fed by mom. Mom had come prepared with a blanket. But I imagined with so many strange eyes looking at her and her son that she would rather not have to feed her baby right now. She started trying to distract him by playing hide and seek with the blanket. This distracted him for a good two minutes and then he began to tug at her shirt more aggressively and moan even louder. Of course, in the small room all eyes were on the mother. She was doing her best to calm him by rubbing her head. Before giving in, she even tried to distract him with a game on the phone. This only lasted for about a minute before he got really frustrated and started moaning even louder trying to get out of his lap and get to what he wanted. Mommy’s milk! I saw Mom looking around again trying to comfort her son. I smiled hoping to encourage her to tell him that it was okay because he was a boy. Some of the other glances around the room weren’t so friendly. They seemed annoyed at the boy’s whining. They look upset when the child throws all the magazines on the floor. They seem annoyed when the child plays with the door lock. They seemed annoyed when the child did what children do. They just looked annoying.

The mother finally relented and covered herself with the blanket and let the baby feed. After the happy little camper was fed, he was perfectly content to watch the movie on his mother’s cell phone. Soon after, the mother was called in for prosecution.

Love tokens also known as developmental disorders

Midway through this observation, another boy of about 10 years old entered the laboratory with a parent / grandparent and two caregivers. I have to describe the child so that you can get the whole picture. Was 10. How do I know this? The caregiver asked the father or grandfather for his date of birth while they were registering him.

He had a helmet on his head and a kind of harness around his body with a short strap so that his caretakers could keep track of him. It was immediately clear that the child had one or more developmental disorders. It was constantly moving involuntarily and making clucking, ticking noises with this tongue that were for lack of a better word disturbing if you hadn’t seen it before. In my non-expert opinion, he exhibited sighs of Tourette syndrome and ADHD and perhaps autism on some level. I have researched all of these disorders, so it certainly seems plausible. Oh, I forgot he had a cast on his arms too. So it was clear that he was a danger to himself; that is, the helmet. Again, in my non-expert opinion, the helmet was used to prevent him from injuring himself through sudden involuntary movements and the harness was to help his caretakers keep track of him.

The elderly gentlemen who were with him were remarkably calm. He wanted to tell him how much he admired him, but he didn’t want to be offensive anyway. You never know how people feel about these things. Some want to talk about their struggles and some don’t. I say father or grandfather because he was an older gentleman and seemed to be 60 years old and the mentioned boy was 10 years old. He had two caretakers with him. I knew they were caregivers because they wore their caregiver outfit and helped watch and care for the child.

At first, the child, while making clucking sounds and excitable noises with his mouth and moving back and forth, was sitting on the parents / grandparents’ laps. Like any parent with their child, the parent / grandparent was very loving and caring towards this child. He would kiss him on the cheek in the spaces left by the helmet and when the boy became more excited (this happened every time someone moved to return or enter the door. These clucking noises), the father / grandfather kissed him gently in her cheek and tried to shut him up and calm him down. Finally, one of the caretakers asked the older gentlemen if they wanted me to take him outside. To be fair, it was making a lot of noise and I can see how strange and upset people would look if they weren’t used to it. But my heart went out to the father / grandfather and this child. He couldn’t help what was happening to his body.

For the record, I don’t think any of the strangers sitting in that room mean any real harm. Nobody said anything, but if looks could kill. His face said it all. Some murmured and looked away. Some just stared at the little family. The older gentlemen were sitting across from the men, so I never caught their attention, but I did notice that it felt a certain way. He didn’t comment out loud to anyone in particular that the little boy had a lot of energy and was like that all day every day. He laughed a little. It reminded me of the old saying that sometimes you laugh to stop crying. I figured older gentlemen were used to stares, so he never looked up. He constantly played with the boy and when they took him outside, he took his phone to answer him. In making that statement, he told me that he knew that many people were uncomfortable and that this was not his first rodeo.

The boy and his caregivers came out and the older men stayed inside waiting to be called. I watched the boy and his caregivers from the window while listening to my audiobook. The little boy couldn’t stop his constant clucking and involuntary movements. I realized that it was a handful. He sat between the two keepers. At one point, the keepers weren’t catching him, as he had been trying to get away from them since they sat down. Without them grabbing him, he shot out and ran, the two cornered him, he slipped next to the woman, but the caretaker was able to grab him before he ran into the street. All of this happened in seconds. I could see why he was wearing a harness. I could see the danger that he could unknowingly bring to himself. Once he was seated again, I saw the male caregiver wrap the boy’s legs around his to support him and the other caregiver grab onto his harness.

If someone who had just approached could have seen this interaction between them, they would have been alarmed and wondered why they were restraining the child. Of course, the child was not distressed. They were playing with him trying to keep him distracted. But he was physically restricted.

The older man on his phone looked up from time to time to see what was going on. Fortunately, he had not seen the boy escape from the hands of his caretaker, however, he saw him physically restrained, but did not say anything. I thought to myself that I am sure this is normal.

Finally, they called me to have my blood drawn. While I was being processed, I overheard staff members talking about the boy. I heard one say that, I can tell it must be xxxxx in the waiting room. They could tell by his distinctive tics and sounds that he was making. The other commented that she was there last week, wondering why she had come back so soon. I hoped it was okay. I asked the nurse who treated me if it was difficult for them to draw blood from the child when he entered. She said it is definitely an office effort. The father and caregivers had to hold him all the time. She didn’t know what disorder she had, she thought it might be some kind of autism, because she didn’t speak, she just made the excitable clucking sounds.

When I came out the boy was back in the waiting room and he was making his noises and the involuntary movements of his mess while sitting on the older gentlemen’s laps and the older gentlemen were still fondling him, kissing him on the cheek and kissing him. they tried. to keep you calm in this strange environment with strange people watching you, some with curiosity and some with obvious annoyance.

I am writing this open letter to remind you of the struggles parents go through when they find themselves in uncontrollable situations. You don’t want your children to struggle with developmental or other disorders. But you take the cards that are dealt to you and you love and appreciate every minute you have with the gifts that you have been given. I am thankful that there are loving parents who overcome the struggles they have every day. I know someone else who is also grateful. Their children!

I encourage you the next time you see a struggling parent, whether your child has a developmental disorder or is just a child, offer an encouraging smile or convey that you understand in some way. That smile helps to a great extent to eliminate the feeling of restlessness and anxiety that you are already dealing with when going to a public place. Don’t make it difficult for them. Let’s make it easier. I wanted so badly to give a passionate speech to the people in that waiting room. I wanted to stand up and give a speech on empathy and compassion. In all transparency, they were all older people and seemingly a long way from their parenting or grandparent days. My passionate plea would have been to ask every person in that room to stand as a young mother or an older gentleman. How would you have liked to be treated? When you looked up from caring for a child with uncontrollable movements and loud noises, what faces and expressions would you like to greet them?

What if you were that young mother trying to calm an active baby? Would you like to have to worry about the people around you and how they feel while feeding your baby? Many times we cannot feel compassion for others until we find ourselves in similar situations. I hope you never have to deal with a similar situation, but if you do, I hope you find the courage it takes and gracefully face the challenge like the parents I saw today did.

Finally, why did I call developmental disorders symbols of love? I think children with developmental disorders teach us something about love. That boy, though he may never be able to say that he felt an undying love for his caretakers and older gentlemen. He was completely under their care and he believed that they would do what was best for him. Even as they held him, I didn’t see any unhappiness on his face. He was at peace in his own little world. His caregiver, in turn, showed such beautiful love and care for him. The older gentlemen gently stroking him and kissing his cheek. I’m willing to bet that he teaches everyone who comes in contact with him something about love. It certainly touched my heart. Enough to write this open letter of almost four pages. That is something special right there.

As I leave you, keep in mind that a smile of encouragement may not be too much to ask someone to feel better about their situation. What can you do today to lighten someone’s load a bit? Think about it?