Well - I took him home - home to a little cabin I shared with two dogs and four cats - all former farm animals that I couldn't leave behind. The dogs were accepting, especially Skipper (remember him?) but the cats were in a state of denial - how COULD I do this to them? Upset their quiet lives with a squalling, damp, drooling human who asked for (and got) all my attention most of the time? They kept their distance - which was fine with me.
The first night I had Ryan home - I knew he could hear and I knew he could see - just how well it was hard to tell, but I got him to respond to light and sound. He had a condition known as "sunset eyes" - his eye muscles were too weak to pull his eyes up so you could only see half of the iris and pupil. His neck muscles were way too weak to support that huge head of his. But he could kick those feet and he had a temper! Somehow, having him home with me - things didn't seem to be so bad - the future not so grim. His foster mother had told me he cried all the time - and he did - until he was FED. He was HUNGRY. I totally disregarded the old saying "no solid food" and put some cereal in with his formula - he slurped it up and slept for 9 straight hours! So did I.
We fell into our pattern. Up in the morning, formula and cereal, dressed, on to day care, home in the evening, bath, cuddle time, cereal and formula and sleep. He slept through the night from the 3rd night on - and I mean from 10:00 p.m. until 6:00 a.m. Pretty good huh? And he got stronger. The first time he looked at me and I could see all of his iris and pupil, I cried. He smiled....ahhhh... that smile! And he started to gain weight. And he smiled. So he could hear and he could see - wonder what else the "experts" were wrong about.
We worked and worked on his neck muscles. I got a second-hand "baby back pack" and his day care worked hung it on the end of his crib at the center and for 10 minutes, 3 times a day, she put him in it. In order to see what was going on, he HAD to hold his head up.....and he did....he was mad, mad, mad, and would scream bloody murder, but that head would be up - he would be red in the face and screaming, but that head would be UP! It took several weeks for him to have the head control he should have, but he did it. He was a fighter.
He never did crawl the "normal" way. He crawled like an inch worm - hitching himself forward on his arms, scooching his butt up in the air and pushing forward with his knees. The "experts" were worried about this....I wasn't - he was crawling. The "experts" said if he walked before he was 2 it would be a miracle - Ryan walked at 23 months. Chalk up another miracle (how many is that now?). He talked - Mama, kitty, doggie, cup, cracker, bobble (bottle), more, and finally the dreaded "NO!" He hit his "terrible 2's" at eighteen months and it lasted well into his 3rd year. He turned into a beautiful little boy (yes, I'm partial) with blonde hair and huge brown eyes. He smiled most of the time. His gross motor skills were lacking and his fine motor skills were not great, he walked and talked, but hey - nobody's perfect - right? Right!
He was my life - my joy - my son. I wanted the world for him. He had four times as many clothes as I did and every educational toy I could squeeze out of my paycheck. Times were tough for awhile - I had a lot of expenses after leaving the farm, but we made it - he never realized any tough times. He had everything he needed and then some.
I really feel that I enjoyed a normal child until he started school. That's when his problems became so glaringly apparent. Other kindergardeners could hold a thick pencil, cut with scissors, ride a trike - Ryan couldn't do any of those things. Others could color "in the lines" - Ryan's colors were spread all over the page. His teachers were all great - all through school. He learned to hold that pencil - he learned to cut, but the trike he never mastered - you see he did not have "reciprocal motion" - the ability to move first one leg and then the other - that's why he crawled like he did. I really didn't care - he didn't either. He couldn't tie his shoes - thank God for velcro!
The elementary years were peaceful - he was in special education but "mainstreamed" into regular classrooms. I worried about high school - how would the "normal" kids treat him?
Next entry: The Teenage Years
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