We all have dreams for our children. While in they’re utero, we dream of our healthy bundle of joy. Ten fingers, ten toes, and a nose I always used to say.
The very first time my daughter was placed in my arms, I knew she was an amazing gift. She was pink and perfect with chubby little cheeks and and a pile of beautiful dark hair. The first time she laid her stormy blue eyes on me, I knew my life would never be the same.
The Girl had a complicated infancy. Her father, my husband, passed away when she was just six months old. We had latching issues when breast feeding, I was often unable to calm or console her when she cried. She was most at ease in her grandma’s arms. I truly thought my infant daughter hated me.
As she grew, boundaries seemed difficult for her to grasp. She regularly took things that weren’t hers. She destroyed my possessions, ruined furniture and carpeting, lied and hid things in her room to “get rid of evidence”. The Girl never accepted accountability for her actions. Discipline was hard. Time outs were futile and often ended with destructive retaliation. She couldn’t be sent to her room unattended for fear of her destroying something in there. There was nothing that was of enough significance to her that registered as a consequence when it was taken away. At just 4 years old, The Girl’s behavior was beyond out of control.
Upon starting Kindegarten, teachers began identifying The Girl’s inability to assimilate to classroom structure. Her social skills were “outside of the age group norm” and her behaviors were alienating her from her peers. With the recommendation of her classroom teacher, a special needs assessment was conducted.
When an expert tells you there is something “wrong” with your child, your heart breaks into a million little pieces. Looking at my daughter, one would never guess that she isn’t your average, every day girl. She is over the moon for Justin Bieber, is particular about wearing clothes only from Justice, and has an obsession with shoes. However, living every day with her is a struggle.
No, my daughter doesn’t have any physical deformities, she doesn’t “look” different, or have a terminal illness. She is mobile, she is verbal (very verbal), and she has the basic ability to care for herself. She does however require daily medication to function at a “normal social level”. She requires twice weekly in-home therapy to learn to process things that may seem like common sense to most. (No, stabbing knives through your brother’s door IS NOT an acceptable way of letting him know you’re upset. No, it IS NOT ok to take money/clothes/food/toys from your mom/friends/neighbors/the store just because you want it.) She has a working IEP at her school that allows social skill training, sensory therapy, and instruction on seemingly simple things like staying in a classroom. She is also closely monitored on a monthy basis by a psychiatrist to ensure that her meds are right.
At the ripe old age of 10, my daughter has done two in-patient stays in behavioral health facilities. I have been kicked in the face, punched, had MANY things thrown at me, had my hair pulled, been bitten, and spit on. She has run off on multiple occasions, requiring the police to find her and bring her home.
Knowing that the public only sees a bad kid breaks my heart. She is not a bad kid. She has a heart of gold. She is a mother hen to small children, she has an immense capacity to love, she is nuturing to animals, and is an amazing artist. Truly, I think it would be easier for people to understand her special needs if she did look different. Having finally found a medication that fits her, I see The Girl making amazing strides.
Yes, she is still a compulsive liar. Generally, if something in the house goes missing, it can be found hidden somewhere in her room. She is still very impulsive,but her impulses are far less destructive than they used to be. She is finally spending as much as 75% of her day in the classroom at school. And for the first time ever, this last weekend, she was invited to a slumber party.
ADHD and Oppositional Defiance Disorder are so not a walk in the park. Unlike being told that your child can’t see well, or that your child is diabetic, or something to that nature, there is no guaranteed line of treatment. In five years, The Girl has been through 33 different medications. She has had 6 therapists, 4 psychiatrists, and 2 PCAs. Finding people that fit your child is one of THE MOST IMPORTANT parts of treating these disorders. Knowing what is “normal” for your kid is the best way to advocate for them. If you are uncomfortable with something, SPEAK UP! I’ve gone round after round and blow to blow with providers I didn’t agree with. READ! Teach yourself about these diagnoses. Remember, any behavioral health diagnosis is a series of symptoms that fit under a certain umbrella title outlined in the DSM. Get second opinions! Heck! Get third and fourth opinions if you want! Remember - YOU ARE YOUR CHILD’S BIGGEST ADVOCATE! If you don’t learn about their diagnosis and fight for what they need, no one will!
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I want to thank all of the courageous ladies that allowed me to share their stories this week. I hope they touched your hearts like they have mine, and if you are a parent of a child like ours, I hope it comforted you to know you are not alone. No matter how bad a day can get, it's only 24 hours. With the rising of the sun the next morning, a new day begins, and so does our hope. It won't always be like this. I also hope that I have met my goal in raising awareness to how life can be when you have a child (or children) with special needs. All of our children are special, it's just God created some of them extra special, and I am blessed to be the mother of one of these extra special kids. Jellybean definitely keeps my life interesting.
I am linking up some awesome posts I have found in the blogosphere related to ADHD, ODD, and mood disorders. I think the hardest part of having a child with a mood disorder for my family, is that she holds it all in and let's loose at home. It's almost like we are really living with this invisible thing, and no one else can believe that her diagnosis is real. If it weren't for the brave moms out there willing to share their stories, I would feel alone. (If you have never read my Jellybean's story, you can do that here.)
Please leave some love with The Miller Mix and Only Parent Chronicles. If you haven't read them already, you can go back and check out Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, and Day 4. Thanks for hanging out this week! 
