Two years ago, Jake and I were getting ready to embark on our journey to Ukraine to meet the newest member of our family. We were waiting on a travel date from our team in Ukraine and were preparing our home and our hearts for whomever God had waiting for us. Our dossier, that had already been approved by the Ukrainian government, specifically stated 1-2 children, ages 0-7, with mild or correctable special needs. For the record, we had no idea what that meant. There are tons of labels and diagnoses thrown around in adoption world that really could mean so much more or so much less than what they actually mean so that's just a vague generalization. But we didn't know that then. A week before we were scheduled to fly out, I got an urgent email from a team member saying that I needed to call her. I did. And what she said to me was this, "I think that you should strongly reconsider your travel. From what I hear from our team, there are only children available with severe special needs. Nobody wants them." We said yes anyways. And about a month later, we met David, and 16 of his friends at the orphanage. Some of them had very obvious physical special needs. Some of them appeared just as healthy as David. "These could NOT be the children that nobody wants," I thought to myself. I had no idea that the idea of "special needs" would be redefined for me in the next several months.
Our first several weeks with David home were both heartbreaking and triumphant. Many of you followed our story and know of the things he was limited to. At 5 years old he could not hold a utensil (eating or writing or otherwise) because his muscles were so weak over his entire body from malnourishment. He couldn't chew things that were gooey or tough because the muscles in his face were so underdeveloped from having so few textural options with food. He had never seen toilet paper. Had never taken a warm bath or shower. He had never worn a pair of shoes that actually fit his feet, and as a result, had a very noticeable gait when he walked. He did not know how to be held. He was violent and would fight horribly against affection. He would spit and kick at night and not sleep for fear that he would be injured in his sleep, like he was in the orphanage. And these things, the results of his horrid living conditions, deemed him "special needs". And ALL of these things, and so much more, he has moved past. He has outgrown. He has developed and grown and has real feelings and likes and dislikes and opinions and tantrums and "stuff". And he also has needs. Very real needs. Very real needs that are special. And you know what? That makes him EXACTLY LIKE EVERY OTHER CHILD.
The most important and valuable thing that I have learned in the last year and 9 months of parenting a child that is deemed "special needs" is that every child is special needs. They don't fit in a box. They can't and shouldn't be compared to their peers. They not only require to be parented differently, but they deserve to be parented differently. Each of them.
Before we began this journey, I had never heard of sensory processing disorder, oppositional defiance disorder, reactive attachment disorder, stemming, low muscle tone, secondary trauma, etc. etc. etc. This list is infinitely long. The first time we walked into our occupational therapy evaluation I was completely overwhelmed with the details that go into a childs operating systems and development. And it was humbling. It was humbling to be a mother to two biological children that I swore I had done everything right with them and yet still, some of these things, these disorders, these quirks. I recognized them in my bio babies too. It took me weeks to reconcile that. It took me even longer to come to terms with the fact that a lot of people will tell us that something's wrong with my kids......and even longer to convince myself that they aren't broken. They are the way God made them. There isn't anything wrong with their ticks. There is something wrong with a society that tells us that children should be parented 1 way and that children should behave 1 way.
I have 3 very different children. With very different needs. And so do you. Your kids are special needs too. Yes, you. Because they are special. Not special in the way that the world defines "special". Special in the way that God defines it.....unique, fearfully and wonderfully made, perfectly created. And they have needs. Very unique and individual needs to fit their very unique and individual makeup. And some of their needs are BIG and physical and/or behavioral and require 100% of your time and some of their needs are small but still needs, nonetheless....... But in the end, they're all different. Can we all remember that?
I have to remind myself every day. Every Sunday when I drop two kids off at kids church and the same usher for the last 10 months every single Sunday says to me "you know we have a kids ministry" as he looks down at child number 3, I have to remind myself, "I am this childs mother. And I know his need. And their sitting still and being quiet skills are better than half the adults in here. so shut it." Every time a mom that doesn't know anything about our story compares a very happy bubbly child standing next to their very sad and mopey sibling and questions the difference. Every time that same mopey kid announces a half truth that turns heads. I remind myself......they are each different. And they each have needs that are special. And I will meet those needs to the best of my ability. And that is literally ALL I can do.
If you're the mom that questions other moms, just stop. There's a lot to be said for solidarity. We all need support. If you don't understand, that's okay. But that's not the other moms fault. If you're the mom with the kids that always get you the looks from the moms that I just mentioned, you're amazing. Your children will grow up knowing that their mom loved them enough to fight for them and with them through all of their crazy little quirks. Keep pushing through, moms. Moms of all children, that are all special, with special needs.
