Assessment

After an hour and a half of a social worker asking me what seemed like a thousand questions, I looked over at my coffee tumbler. So depressingly close to empty. It was a coffee tumbler my mom got me as part of my birthday gift this year; it's covered in red and pink hearts. Ever since having Hartley, I look at all things with hearts a different way. They remind me of my beautiful, sassy little blue-eyed blonde girl. 

Hartley had rejoined the room. She had been in another room with Brian, a psychologist and a speech therapist. They were assessing her - an assessment that will be used to determine if she's eligible to attend special ed preschool in the fall. I hated that I wasn't in the room for her assessment but someone had to answer ever single question about Hartley and who better than myself. 

I wanted to pick the brains of the people who assessed Hartley though. I wanted to have been there so I could ask a laundry list of questions. 

As the social worker was about to give us permission to leave, I chimed in. I told her we were supposed to have a parent conference so we could learn a little about what they thought. She told me she could send the psychologist in to speak with me. 

The psychologist was a very nice lady with a calming aura about her. Hartley had warned up to her quickly. 

She sat across from me at the table and told me lots of information, well articulated and very detailed. 

I'm going to rattle off what she said. She said Hartley's play skills are delayed. She only interacted with the people in the room if she needed help opening something. As far as Hartley's language skills - Hartley uses the very bare minimum amount of language needed to express herself. She discovered that Hartley uses the word "stuck" instead of saying "please help me". (something we have always thought of as very cute actually). She didn't attempt to engage anyone to play. Her ability to respond to her name wasn't as consistent as it should be for a child her age. She said other 2.5 year olds don't respond to their names 100 percent of the time but Hartley did less than a typically developing child. Hartley's eye contact was fleeting. Hartley spun. Hartley wasn't easily redirected; apparently most children her age are more easily adaptable. They noticed Hartley was echolailic. 

Now, I know this all sounds negative but she wasn't bashing on Hartley. She was describing to us what Hartley was doing and how it "measured up". She did also mention to us that Hartley seemed very bright and showed no difficulty in learning things. She said Hartley actually picked up how new things worked very quickly. 

Brian said as far as how Hartley performed at her assessment, that it was very true to how she is at home. They did not catch her on a bad day or anything. I made sure to ask him this because I wasn't there to see. 

The psychologist said she'd already explained it to Brian but she'd explain it to me so I could understand: Hartley is developing "atypically" as opposed to "delayed". The example we talked about is how Patrick at 12 months can hold eye contact or engage during peekaboo better than Hartley can. This doesn't mean Hartley is functioning at below a 12 month old level but rather, she's developing in a different or "atypical" way. 

Then she said out loud what has been on my mind for probably about a year now:

"Has anyone talked to you about the possibility of Autism?"

That is a moment I can't quite erase. While my world didn't exactly come crashing down and it certainly wasn't out of left field, someone finally said it out loud. 

"No one has but it's been on my radar for some time." 

This wasn't a lie. I was fully aware that things she was doing were signs, and I began to truly wonder at her second birthday. When people would say to me, "don't worry, she'll catch up", I'd feel a little knot in my stomach. I knew they all meant well, and I couldn't tell them but my true worry was this wasn't something Hartley would "catch up" from. 

The psychologist elaborated. She told me that they don't diagnose Autism Spectrum Disorder but Hartley showed characteristics that indicated it. She said they had "significant concern" (I chose to remember the exact words) with Hartley's development. She said if Hartley doesn't qualify for special Ed under the label "developmental delay" (though we have no reason to believe she won't), she could qualify under the Autism label. She said Hartley would "greatly benefit from intervention" though it was not her decision alone to make. 

In that moment, I realized it was time to follow up with Children's Hospital, who my regular pedi had referred me to. They never called me to schedule like they were supposed to and I left it go because I thought maybe they'd say nothing was wrong at her assessment. I realized this isn't some thought I can keep brushing off because it makes me a little uncomfortable. 

We left the building, and if it were legal I would've just curled up in a ball with Hartley in her car seat. In that moment I just wanted to wrap myself around her to somehow feel like I was shielding her from everything unpleasant. 

Brian described their time to me in the car. He really described it as being a good day for Hartley. She seemed to mainly enjoy herself and she performed well.

His mood soured as we got home. I asked him if he wanted to talk but he snapped at me that he was just hungry. He said maybe she doesn't have ASD. And who knows, that's still a possibility, I guess. 

The remainder of the day I felt kind of crappy. No I wasn't crying all day or feeling a sense of impending doom, but I was sad. I thought a lot about Hartley's future. I thought about how, even now, kids notice that she's different, and how that might get worse in the future. I thought about how it killed me that I couldn't protect her from everything, and I couldn't fix this for her. I thought about all of my big picture dreams for her, and how come hell or high water, I'm going to get her there. 

At the end of the night my mind was spent. My heart was hurting. I decided to take some NyQuil, and be a more positive me in the morning. 

On Friday, we woke to a new day and a new perspective. I ordered a book online so I can learn and grow myself. The kids and I headed to a new park with some new friends we met though MOMS club. And I watched Hartley play very happily. I felt so much better. 

I have zero definite answers but my mentality is to savor every day. She's such a blessing, and I love her so much. We'll have great days, good days and bad days - and we'll get wherever we're destined to be. 

I was hesitant to come online and share this. I think soon my writing therapy with switch over to a journal format. I know it's a little selfish of me to come on here because it's Hartley's life and story, and not mine. But I do plan on getting up on my soapbox from time to time. I do plan on preaching acceptance to the world. 

As my beautiful Hartley would say:

SEE YA SOON! CHEERS!