Saturday, November 8, 2014

PTSD and The Special Needs Parent

It has been 13 years but I often find myself still on that hospital bed. I have dreams and flashbacks.  I suddenly feel claustrophobic; I find it hard to breathe. I'm frightened for my son and myself. I want to speak; I want to SHOUT but I lose consciousness.  I awaken to discover myself in the hallway being transported into the operating room.  I've lost a great deal of blood. My thoughts are of Cody, the son that I have yet to see ... our baby that his dad and I named months ago. I awaken as the the doctor is beginning the caesarean. The scalpel make its initial slice into my abdomen; I can see the reflection of this in the doctor's glasses. In and out of consciousness, I begin to pray. I pray loudly for Cody.

He is rushed to the right hand corner of the room. There is no crying. I can only hear the hurried actions of hospital personnel. Minutes tick by and still nothing. Finally, I hear a faint cry. I don't know how much time transpired but he is then held next me to my on my right hand side. He's all bundled in a pink, blue and white generic hospital blanket. I don't remember the person holding my son; I can only envision the hands and arms. I look into his beautiful face. He looks so much likes his older sister. His eyes are open. I again lose consciousness.

It's PTSD - post traumatic stress disorder. It's often spoken of in relation to veterans and the battles they have been a part. For more info on PTSD:  http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/post-traumatic-stress-disorder/basics/symptoms/con-20022540    There has been a great deal of research that has found parents of children with special needs have stress levels comparable to those in combat. I may not have believed that if I had not experienced it for myself.

The symptoms have never gone away completely but the severity of living with that day comes and goes. This is the second period of time that it has been most difficult. I believe the reason stems from some challenges we are currently facing and as Cody is transitioning into his adolescence.

I'm not sharing this for sympathy but to share the story to hopefully be a help to others. I encourage any parent dealing with depression, anxiety, PTSD symptoms that you are not alone. If you are struggling, seek help. Help can come from a myriad of resources. Personally, therapy has been a great help for me. Also, for me it's a personal relationship with God.

As our children with profound disabilities age, there are great joys but also grief mixed in as well. It's a different kind of grief. It's heart wrenching  at times to see Cody struggle with his body. It's also a great source of encouragement that he never gives up.
My two children in a candid pic. I'm a grateful mom. 




Monday, June 16, 2014

Exceptional Fathers

Yesterday countless people celebrated their fathers and father figures.

My Dad was the only male in the household of three daughters and our mother. Many of our pets were even females. He was grossly outnumbered! I distinctly recall a phone call I had made to my Dad when Cody was about twelve months old. It was apparent to me that he was having significant developmental delays. I had taken him to his pediatrician and also had a couple physical therapy appointments. They were all cautiously optimistic in spite of his obvious delays and traumatic entry into the world. My instincts were telling me that he would have lasting effects from his initial brain injury. I was prayerful and hopeful that would not be the case; I believe God was preparing me for what was to come.

I was experiencing a great deal of trepidation of Cody's possible prognosis. I picked up the phone and called my dad. The call went something like this:

Dad: "Hello"
Me:  "Hey Dad." My voice broke because I was on the verge of tears. Sensing that I was on the verge of tears... Dad quickly says,
Dad: "Your mother is not here." (That memory makes me laugh).
Me:  "I know. I think that Cody is going to have some significant issues with his development, Dad. I believe that you will tell me not necessarily what I want to hear...that everything is OK. I just really want to hear from you, my Father, that you believe that I can do this." (serious sobbing)
Dad:  Silence. I'm beginning to wonder if he was still there. He answers with a firm voice,  "I don't have any doubt, Ann Marie. You and Scott can do this." 
That was a direct quote. It's been 12 years and I remember like it was yesterday.  I needed my Dad in that moment to tell me something affirming. He was an extension of my Heavenly Father as well.

Dad has become a great source of love, fun, and encouragement for Cody. He selects the name "Grandpop" more than any other on his communication device. Cody is hands down Dad's greatest fan!
A typical Grandpop/Cody moment. 


The  2nd name that is most widely recited on his device is "Daddy." Scott is such an amazing support to his boy. Scott has become his arms and legs in hitting the ball and running the bases on his Dream League baseball team. He has also become his arms and legs in life. He works unbelievably hard to modify sporting activities so Cody can take part to the best of his ability. Cody may be non-verbal but the second he hears the door open when Scott returns home he communicates clearly that he is thrilled for his Dad to be home.
Father & Son


The Dads, Grandfathers, Uncles, Father Figures are often the unsung heroes. The impact they make on children, particularly in special needs children's lives, are beyond measure to the entire family. So thankful for these exceptional fathers for their exceptional kids.