You see, her learning disabilities were evident to me early. It took me awhile to convince my husband that they were there. Then there was the road to a diagnosis. We had to deal with an inconsiderate teacher who had been informed that we were seeking medical answers for our daughter's learning style but still felt it appropriate to keep harping on the fact that our daughter was "in the bottom of the class," while my daughter played only a few feet away. Then we had to go through a series of all-day tests only to find out that the diagnosis we were given was useless (ADHD with math deficiency). I knew it was wrong. I had experience with ADHD children and knew that wasn't the issue. Our families didn't see it. I was told by one person that I just needed to accept the fact that she wasn't perfect accept the diagnosis. I guess, the fact that I excelled at learning and was raising an older daughter, who was in gifted classes, gave them the right (in their opinion) to (incorrectly) judge my motivation. Who said she wasn't perfect? She was to me! She was perfect just like she was and I wanted the key into her world!!
When I presented our regular doctor with the results, she agreed. She suggested dyslexia. Her office tried to find a way to get her tested and diagnosed officially but the very expensive and hours away testing centers didn't accept our insurance (I hear this is quite common.). It didn't matter. After an indepth study of dyslexia, I cried. The information described her learning so perfectly.
By this point we had decided that homeschooling was best. We had watched our vibrant happy daughter disappear into a shell that didn't even include talking to us. Homeschooling has been such a blessing! I am a former teacher so I had to push myself to combine what I knew with the unknown of a new style of learning. I accepted the challenge with conviction and enjoyed seeing the beauty of every success no matter how big or small.
Now we are once again faced with a challenge. Life has never been easy for my precious one. My heart aches as I see other developmental differences that I feel can no longer be contributed to simply shyness. So, once again, I am faced with the search for another key.
I feel so alone. It's not that my hubby doesn't support me...but I am the one with the education in this area...I am the one who is with her most of the time...I am the one charged with opening the doors. Sometimes I feel that all I can do is pray... The weight is so much that I don't know what else to do. I feel like the weight of her future is crushing down on my shoulders and I struggle to keep moving forward.
It is this background that leaves me feeling excluded from the world. Everything moves at a different pace for my daughter and me. I immerse myself in her world...and when she is alone...I am alone...
I really wish those around me understood that.
Dear People,
While you were applauding your child for making the football team, cheerleading squad, dance troupe, acting ensemble, pageant winner...I wish you had taught your children to accept those who are different...to embrace the individuality of others...to reach out to those who seem lost. I wish you had taught your child to be kind and see value in those who are unique (in ways that the world might not appreciate) while you were teaching your child to excel where all can see their success.
Instead, you have taught your child to follow the leader. You have taught your child that different is only good when you are better than others.
I made it a point to teach my oldest daughter not to judge a book by its cover. I taught her not to treat others unkindly because of their clothing, their accent, their skin color or the fact that they were shy. I taught her to appreciate diversity rather than shun it.
You see, I've seen my youngest daughter around others. I've seen how she doesn't follow the crowd so she is left behind. I watch her play by herself and no one reach out to include her. Not only have I watched that, dear adults, but I've seen the looks that I get from you. The looks that scoff me for not raising my daughter to be like everyone else. (Not that I could do that with her unique personality) The looks that blame me because she doesn't act like what they think she should. The looks that label me unfriendly because I don't join in idle chatter...when at that time, it may be that I am the only one befriending my daughter.
Even those who call themselves Christian had rather turn their heads than open their hearts...
My heart aches that WE can't be accepted for who we are. My heart aches that others can't see the wonderful beauty who is my daughter. My heart aches that I can't give her a world that is more friendly to her uniqueness.
My tears flow not because she is different...but because, unfortunately, the world is not...
Signed: A mother's heart
