Defying the odds
In a little over a month my first born will be finishing elementary school. To most, that may seem insignificant, but if there's one thing that I've learned about my son, is there's absolutely nothing insignificant about him.
From the time he made his debut into this world - he has been defying odds and proving people wrong. He decided to come early during the North American Blizzard of 2014 which says it all. At birth the nurses swore he could only be born via c-section. He was crooked and stuck on my hip. But, with the guidance of a veteran doctor and 3 pushes, a determined, smooshed faced baby arrived. After that, he would spend the first month of his life attached to an outlet at home to decrease his bilirubin levels. His first three months of life he would be marked as failure to thrive due to a severe milk allergy. Refusing to eat and his body rejecting any nutrients - just as he was on the brink of needing scheduled for a feeding tube, he finally started gaining weight on a new to the market formula. At 4 years old he still wouldn't be sleeping through the night; we found out his oxygen levels would dip into the 80s and he had spent more time sick than he did healthy. Turns out he was allergic to everything Mother Nature had to offer, asthma, a deviated septum (from that smooshed nose), and his adenoids were 85% enlarged. After his surgery - he realized his favorite ChapStick had a smell this entire time that he actually despised. We didn't realize that his deviated septum and enlarged adenoids had been preventing him from breathing fully through his nose to indulge in smells. Two years later I thought we'd be going in for a routine appointment and he left having a biopsy of a mole removed off his neck. It came back as a spitz tumor. Thankfully it was caught early enough before it had an opportunity to turn into melanoma. When we went for his 9 year checkup, his doctor heard a murmur in his heart. After two trips to Children's and a wait that felt like an eternity, we got the all clear that everything was okay. Defying odds. Never again will I take a normal wellness child visit for granted.
My son didn't start actually start talking until he was about 4 years old. When he did, as a mom, I knew there was something off about his speech. His preschool teachers felt it would work itself out with maturity. I felt for sure though once he got to elementary the professionals would let me know for certain if there was an actual worry. If there's one thing I've learned as a mom is, you have to be your child's own advocate in all aspects. Once he got to school, Covid hit. Kindergarten fell short. Before I knew it we were in First grade and it was spent in a mask. Speech and masks? Seems contradictory. But I was assured there were no present issues. Soon not only did I have an ache about his speech, but his grades started to slip drastically as the material got harder. I found myself reteaching him entire lessons from the day just to complete the homework. Spelling tests were a nightmare. He hated reading. He couldn't follow multiple step directions in math. My child dreaded school already in the first grade. We spent most of our Sundays relearning the prior weeks worth of material just so he could stay afloat with 60-70%'s. There were days I wondered if he was just being lazy and choosing to not put in the effort. I knew he was capable. I knew he was bright. How could I possibly repeat myself so many times and he still not retain the information? Surely this isn't normal? But I was assured there were no issues, again. No need to test for anything, no need to assess for speech. This is adjusting to school after Covid, things will even out, he's a boy and needs to mature. I heard it all. My mom gut told me this couldn't be the expected norm for these kids, practically failing. We put in so many extra hours outside of school just to pass first grade. A lot of tears. Him and me.
Come second grade we were blessed to have an amazing teacher with a special education background. In a matter of a few weeks of working with him she recognized two issues. 1. there is an evident speech issue and 2. there may be a learning disability here. So, we had him tested and yes, he in fact had a speech impediment and also a learning disability. 
Once you have a correct diagnosis, knowing what you're working with gives you the ability to arm yourself with all the tools. It also allows you to stop trying to place blame on yourself and on your child. It helps you let go of the guilt for feeling like you're not doing enough for them. Over the next few years, there was so much work and support that was poured into my son. But truly it was up to him. He had an opportunity to turn a diagnosis into an excuse and ride it out, yet he chose to flourish with it. Again, we all watched as this child defied odds. He went from the bottom of his class, failing grades, no confidence, and hating school. To spreading his wings, all A's and B's, loves to read, and perfect attendance. He's the student that others pick to work with because they know he'll help them get the work done. He now spends 99% of his time in the general education classroom with minimal modifications. To most, upon observation, you would never assume he has a learning disability. He's been able to take all the support and tools he's been given through the years and apply those on a daily basis to manage on his own. He continues to persevere with a positive attitude. Understanding yourself and having others understand you makes a world of difference in all aspects of life - but most certainly in one's education. One person took the time to see an 8-year-old boy for who he truly was, and it was that day, everything started to change for him. Forever grateful to that 2nd grade teacher and the ones who have stepped up to support him through the years.
There was a time at the start when making it to the finish line of elementary seemed like a pipe dream. I had a little boy who hated school. A boy who cried that he was stupid and just couldn't do the work. If only. If only my 12-year-old could go back in time and give that little boy a hug. Tell that little one he's going to be okay, they're going to do more than make it, they're going to crush school in its entirety.
I'll always be one of those moms who forever celebrate all of the little milestones. My son has been one of my greatest teachers. Since he's made his way into this world during a blizzard, fighting back against those nurses, he's taught me to advocate. He's taught me to not take a single moment worth celebrating, for granted. The little moments are truly significant to me because they're his moments and he sure earned every bit of them.
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