Therapy and Beyond

In the last few days, everything about Sadie's and my daily lives has changed and will change more. (Scott's not so much, but he's definitely gone through a lot in the past few days as well). There's so much to try to write down that I need to break it up into two parts -- Sadie's PT evaluations, and what has happened since.

Before that, though, I want to thank everyone who has written me to offer their support and to tell me anecdotes of their own about tough kid problems and suffering from first-time-parent-itis. They all help and make us laugh instead of wanting to empty a bottle of vodka into our Raisin Bran.

Part 1: Physical Therapy

As I wrote about before, last week Sadie was diagnosed by our pediatrician as having mild hypotonia, or low muscle tone, which is why she has never learned how to crawl or get around on her own.

On Monday we took her to two different pediatric physical therapists for evaluations. The first, Joy for Kids, is in Burbank and is run by a younger woman named Joy who seems like the type that kids instinctively love. The other, Bright Star, was a larger center offering different forms of therapy, where we met with a woman whose name (I think) was Savina.

Those two hours were unbelievably edifying. To begin with, it was both gratifying and a little embarrassing to be able to show others just how volatile Sadie's emotional temperament has become. She screamed her way through both of the eval sessions and was happy only when on my lap or when I was down on the floor playing right next to her. Yet when she had me there with her, she was happy, curious, chatty and otherwise perfectly willing to learn.

We learned some strengthening exercises to do with her, such as sitting her on a yoga ball and rolling it from side to side so she has to work her trunk muscles to stay upright. (She thought this was the funnest game ever.) We were also instructed to help her walk as much as possible, which we already do. If it were up to her, she'd be standing all the time, and it's also pretty clear that she wants to learn how to strike out on her own without our help now that she's got the motions of walking down. Still too afraid to cruise on furniture, though.

She wasn't as much a fan of the other exercises, which involve helping her tuck her hips and legs beneath her and putting her into the crawl position so she can get used to bearing weight on her lower body. She'd developed her own cock-eyed way of reaching for an object which involved splaying out on her belly, then doing a push-up and trying to pull herself forward while sort of ineffectually wriggling her legs behind her. It never got her anywhere, and she's learned to equate it with frustration.

We were advised to start letting Sadie become more independent, to gradually teach her to play by herself by not immediately responding to her panicked tantrums, and to instead help her get the things she wants by encouraging her to do them herself. We were showed how to help her pull up, to move her legs for her in a pseudo-crawl so she can see what it feels like to make that movement.

We left the PT evals feeling tremendously encouraged. It means so much just to have a plan of action, to feel like we have the power to help things get better. After some consideration, I decided to go with Joy for Kids because the commute is much easier and Joy is willing to do early morning 7am sessions.

I was feeling so encouraged, in fact, that I made a very stupid decision that I now regret.

Part 2: Childcare

On Monday afternoon, I got a call from the owner of Happy Star Day Care. They hadn't seen Sadie since Tuesday and were concerned about her. I'd told them I was taking her to the doctor for some testing (truth) but hadn't mentioned last Wednesday's disastrous trial day at Rose's day care. Now they wanted to know if Sadie was coming back.

I had a decision to make. I already knew that Rose was out of the question -- both she and I agreed that Sadie isn't ready for an unfamiliar location and new kids, even if Rose was willing to work with her on physical strengthening, which she is. Rose seems like a good option to explore in the future.

I explained the whole situation to Happy Star -- the physical therapy, Sadie's diagnosis, her new needs. She said, over and over, that she was relieved to hear it and wanted to help. She wanted Sadie to come back to Happy Star, and was willing to learn the exercises and cooperate with us in order to help her. I thought about it, looked at my calendar with a full work week on it (a Tuesday conference call, Wednesday script revisions, Thursday accounting work with my mom), and said okay. I didn't see Sadie staying there permanently, but at least it might be a stop-gap solution until I could find a better option.

Bad idea.

I dropped Sadie off Tuesday morning at Happy Star. Immediately things got off on the wrong foot -- the instant we put her down on the floor so I could show them her new exercises, she began screaming at the top of her lungs. I left, feeling awful, but I had a crucial 11am conference call. I hadn't gotten any work done in 5 days and was starting to feel the urgency of needing to reassure my employers that I hadn't vanished from the face of the earth.

At 10:30am, Happy Star called. This is what they said:

"She won't stop crying. We give up."

"You give up?"

"Yes. We give up. We can't help her. You need to come pick her up."

"Right now?"

"Right now."

And that was that. I canceled my call, picked her up, collected her things from Happy Star, came home, and cried a lot. I might have had a glass of wine in the middle of the day. I'm not saying I did, and I'm not saying I didn't.

Yesterday, Scott took a sick day and we stayed at home and did nothing but interview nannies. I never saw us as a nanny type of household, but here we are. The nanny interviewing process deserves a post all of its own, and I interview another round by myself today, but to sum it up, it's going well. We've found one or two candidates that I'd feel comfortable hiring, and while we definitely can't afford in-home child care full time, we've found a way to swing 20 or 25 hours a week, which would still be a tremendous help. If it means I need to cut down on my workload and put my career on hold for the next few months, then it's something I have to be willing to do.

So it continues. In the next few weeks we'll make a decision about child care, Sadie will start twice-weekly PT sessions in earnest (she had one this morning that didn't go so well, but Joy has explained that she may go through weeks of tantrums before finally accepting that it won't get her what she wants), and at some point, hopefully, I will return to some sort of daily routine.

I miss routines. They just don't get enough credit.

Tomorrow is Sadie's first birthday, Sunday is a little party with only my parents, Scott's parents, my sister and her husband, with some lunch and swimming. It's not exactly the grand, celebratory affair that some of our friends did for their kid's first birthday, but at this point in time, it seems right, and it's all we have the energy to put together.