I guess, to be honest, I stopped posting because I thought Lachie was doing okay. His Hydrocephalus didn't need treatment (shunting) and he seemed to be doing fine health-wise. And he still is fine health-wise. Developmentally, however, his delays have become more and more pronounced as time has gone on.
He turned 2 on the weekend. We had a great rainbow themed birthday party for him, and we celebrated the awesomeness that he is :D
Yesterday, however, we had his Griffiths Scale assessment at the Child Development Centre (CDC). It confirmed the diagnosis of Global Developmental Delay (GDD). Sooo.. we've got intensive therapies ahead (physiotherapy, speech therapy and probably occupational therapy) and we're also going to have another MRI for him to see if the Hydro has worsened and whether it perhaps has caused the GDD and needs treatment.
I'm crushed. I mean.. I can't say it's a huge surprise - he's delayed in many areas, but geez I'm hurting. I'm hurting so much. I feel like I'm mourning the loss of a child - not a child that died - but the IDEA of a child. The one I had in my head when I was pregnant, and when he was born. The one who would be intelligent and geeky like me and his Daddy. The plans I had for him and his future.
That's not to say that these things still can't and won't happen - it may do. But there's no ignoring that my baby boy has a disability. After the age of 5/6 (when they're assessed when starting school) it can lead to a diagnosis of Intellectual Disability. Gosh, that kills me.
What does his future hold? Will he completely catch up in a few years? Will he ALMOST catch up but just be a little behind? Will the gap grow bigger and bigger and he be severely behind? There's a good chance he will remain quite behind - he may catch up a bit, or not at all. He may need to be in special education classes. I hate the unknown. I hate not being able to control it and foresee it. I hate the "watch and see" game.
I can't even begin to put into words the guilt I'm feeling. We started physiotherapy with him about 9 months ago when he could only bum shuffle, and not crawl. He really hated going, was afraid of the therapist and hated us doing the exercises with him at home. Why didn't I persist? Why didn't I keep pushing him? I guess that's the shitty thing about hindsight - I had no way of anticipating just how delayed he would be at the age of 2. I wish so desperately that I'd tried harder. That I'd been his best advocate - the Mama that he really needed me to be, and do everything I could to help him along in his development.
I know that age 2 is "early intervention" and many people don't get onto therapies etc until age 4,5,6 etc ... but it still doesn't seem early enough. I feel like I've failed him so badly. I hate the should-haves. I have no way of knowing whether even with therapy earlier on he would still be at this same stage or whether he'd have progressed further by now - but gosh the guilt hurts so very much.
I'm so sorry my beautiful baby boy. Mama failed you.
The birthday boy -
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