An open letter to parents of infants and toddlers struggling with developmental disorders and to people in general.
To the parents, I applaud your courage, tenacity, and undying love for your children who are struggling with developmental disorders or just being children.
For people in general, get over it and show some empathy to those who are struggling.
Breastfeeding hood and mommy
Early this morning I went to the lab for a blood test. I didn’t have a date. So I knew my wait would not be short. Just as I correctly assumed there were a bunch 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. As I settled down to wait, I immediately noticed a young mother with a small child. She couldn’t be a year old yet. I noticed them because the boy was active and learning to walk and he was in everything as in my opinion he should be. She was exhibiting curious behavior. I saw the mother look around her furtively as the little boy started removing the magazines from the table to the floor and she walked over and firmly but carefully guided him back to her seat. She firmly said, “No!” He must not make a mess.
With nothing else to do with his curious and active little mind, of course, the boy begins to cry and then began to pull on the mother’s blouse. Having been there myself and having friends with children, I immediately knew what was going on. The child was breastfed and now he wanted to be fed by mom. Mommy had come prepared with a blanket. But I figured that with so many strange eyes looking at her and her child, I’d 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 started tugging at her shirt more aggressively and whimpering even louder. Of course, in the small room all eyes were on the mother. She was doing her best to calm him down by rubbing his head. Before giving in she even tried to distract him with a phone game. This only lasted about a minute before he got very frustrated and started whimpering even louder trying to get off his lap and get what he wanted. Mom’s milk! I saw mom look around her again trying to comfort her son. I smiled hoping to cheer her up that she was okay because he is a boy. Some of the other looks around the room weren’t so friendly. They seemed annoyed by the child’s whimpering. They look upset when the boy threw all the magazines on the floor. They look upset while the child plays with the door lock. They seemed upset that the boy was doing what boys do. They just seemed upset.
The mother finally relented and covered herself with the blanket and allowed the baby to feed. After the happy little camper was fed, he was perfectly content to watch the movie on his mother’s cell phone. Shortly after, the mother was called in for processing.
Love tokens, also known as developmental disorders
Halfway through this observation, another child of about 10 years entered the laboratory with one of his parents/grandparents and two caregivers. I have to describe the child so you can get a complete picture. He was 10 years old. How do I know this? The caregiver asked the father or grandfather for his date of birth while he was being registered.
He had a helmet on his head and a kind of harness around his body with a short leash so his keepers could follow him. Immediately, it became clear that the child had one or more developmental disorders. He was constantly moving involuntarily and making clucking and ticking noises with his tongue that, for lack of a better word, were unsettling if you hadn’t seen them before. In my non-expert opinion, he exhibited hints of Tourette’s syndrome and ADHD and perhaps autism on some level. I have researched all of these disorders so it certainly seems plausible. Oh, I forgot that he also had a cast on his arms. So it was clear that he was a bit dangerous to himself; that is, the helmet. Again, from my non-expert opinion, the helmet was used to prevent him from harmonizing through sudden involuntary movements and the harness was to help his keepers follow him.
The older gentlemen with him were remarkably calm. He wanted to tell her how much he admired him, but he didn’t want to be offensive in any way. You never know how people feel about these things. Some want to talk about his struggles and others don’t. I say father or grandfather because he was an older man and seemed to be about 60 years old and the boy, as mentioned, was 10 years old. He had two keepers with him. He knew they were caregivers because they wore his caregiver garb and helped monitor and care for the child.
At first, while making clucking and excitable noises with his mouth and moving from side to side, the child was sitting on the lap of the parents/grandparents. Like any father with his child, the father/grandfather was so loving and affectionate with this child. I’d kiss him on the cheek in the gaps left by the helmet and when the kid got really excited (this was every time someone moved to go back or through the door, so every few minutes he’d jump up and down and make these clucking noises) , the father/grandfather kissed him gently on the cheek and tried to shut him up and calm him down. Finally, one of the caretakers asked the older men if he wanted to be taken outside. To be fair, it was making a lot of noise and I can see how people would look weird and upset if they weren’t used to it. But my heart went out to the father/grandfather and this little boy. 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 meant any real harm. No one said anything but 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 it never struck me, but I could tell he felt a certain way. He made a loud comment to no one in particular that the little guy had a lot of energy and he was like that all day every day. He laughed a little. He reminded me of the old saying that sometimes you laugh to stop crying. I figured the old man was used to the stars, so he never looked up. He constantly played with the little boy and when he was taken outside, he would take his phone to attend to him. In making that statement he told me that he knew a lot of people were uncomfortable and that this was not his first rodeo.
The little boy and his caretakers went 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 the constant clucking and involuntary movements from him. I realized that he was a handful. He sat between the two caretakers. At one point, the keepers weren’t holding him, as he had been trying to wriggle out of them ever since they sat down. Since they weren’t holding him down, he bolted and ran, took the two to corner him, slipped past the woman, but the male caretaker was able to grab him before he ran out into the street. All this happened in a few seconds. I could see why he was wearing a harness. I could see the danger that he could unknowingly bring to himself. Once they sat him back down, I saw the male caretaker wrap the boy’s legs around his own to support him and the other caretaker hold on to his harness.
If someone who had just approached had seen this interaction between them, they might have become alarmed and wondered why the child was being held. Of course, the boy was not distressed. They were playing with him trying to keep him distracted. But he was physically restrained.
The older gentleman on his phone looked up from time to time to see what was going on. Fortunately, he hadn’t seen the boy run out of his caretaker’s hands, however, he did see him physically immobilized, but he didn’t say anything. I thought to myself, I’m sure this is a normal thing.
Finally, they called me in to have my blood drawn. As I was being processed, I overheard staff members talking about the child. I heard one say that, I can tell it must be xxxxx in the waiting room. They could tell by his distinctive tics and the sounds he was making. The other commented that she was there last week, she wondered why he had come back so soon. She hoped he was okay. I asked the nurse who attended me if it was difficult for them to draw blood from the child when she entered. She said it’s definitely an office effort. The father and caregivers had to hold him the entire time. She didn’t know what disorder he had, she thought it might be some kind of autism, because he didn’t talk, he just made the excitable clucking noises.
When I came out the boy was back in the waiting room and he was making his noises and making the involuntary movements of his mess while sitting on the older gentlemen’s lap and the older gentlemen were still petting him and kissing him on the cheek and They were trying to keep him calm in this strange environment with strange people looking at him, some with curiosity and others with obvious annoyance.
I write this open letter to remind you of the struggles parents go through when they find themselves in uncontrollable situations. He doesn’t want his children to struggle with developmental disorders or otherwise. But you take the cards you’re dealt and love and cherish every minute you have with the gifts you’ve been given. I am grateful 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 in some way let them know you understand. That smile goes a long way in eliminating the sense of dread and anxiety that they are already dealing with when going to a public place. Let’s not make it difficult for them. Let’s make it easier. I really wanted to make an impassioned speech to the people in that waiting room. I wanted to stand up and give a speech about empathy and compassion. In all fairness, they were all elderly and seemingly far removed from their parenting days or grandparents. My impassioned plea would have been to ask every person in that room to put themselves in the shoes of that young mother or that older gentleman. How would you have liked to be treated? When you looked up from caring for a child with uncontrollable movements and loud clucking, what faces and expressions would you like to greet you with?
What if you were that young mom trying to calm an active baby? Would you like to have to worry about the people around you and how they feel while you feed your baby? Many times we cannot have 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 rise to the challenge with grace like the parents I saw today did.
Finally, why did I call developmental disorders signs of love? I think that children with developmental disorders teach us something about love. That little boy, though he could never say that he had an undying love for his caretakers and his elder knights. He was completely in his care and believed that they would do what was best for him. Even as they held him down, I saw no sadness on his face. He was at peace in his little world. His caregiver, in turn, showed such beautiful love and care for him. The older gentlemen caressing him gently and kissing his cheek. I am willing for him to teach everyone who comes in contact with him something about love. He certainly touched my heart. Enough to write this open letter of almost four pages. That’s something special right there.
As I leave you, keep in mind that an encouraging smile cannot be too much to ask for someone to feel better about their situation. What can you do today to make someone’s load a little lighter? Think about it?
