“Heather, I want you to know you can grieve the child you thought you would have without betraying the child you do have.” 

A sob caught in my throat as I listened to the gracious words of a dear friend. They were words of permission. Permission to feel the deep pain of unmet expectations. Permission to know my feelings were valid and heart breaking. Her words helped me realize it was grief I had been fighting and grief cannot be fought. It can be healed, but fighting grief is like building a fortress around your heart that eventually no one can penetrate. 

The doctor had given us the good news that Finley’s echogenic bowel had cleared around week 32 of gestation and we could expect a perfectly healthy little girl. Relief and elation had ensued my heart. God had answered our prayers! 

I knew something was off with Finley when she was around 4 months old. She had screamed the first 3 months of her life which was finally resolved with probiotics. She literally went from screaming all the time to only crying when she was tired or hungry. I felt like my life had been handed back to me. Then I began to notice that she wasn’t cooing or doing any babbling whatsoever. She wasn’t attempting to roll…I told myself she was playing catch-up-after all, she had just spent the first 12 weeks of her life in agony. I did mention my observations to our pediatrician at Finley’s 4 month check up.

“Let’s see how she is doing at 6 months and go from there.” 

Six months came. Dread began to grow in my belly as her 6 month check up arrived. Finley was not babbling, rolling or attempting to sit up, and if you sat her up she would not put her hands down to keep herself from falling over. All normal abilities for her age.

“Here is a list of Physical Therapists to call. I’m sure she just needs a little help getting started. I don’t want you to worry. She is the youngest of 4, she had terrible colic, I think with a little therapy she will be just fine.” 

I avoided that list for about a week. Calling seemed to validate that something was wrong with our child. “Maybe if I ignore  this feeling it will all be ok” Ha! Why doesn’t that ever work? 

“I’ve got to tell you that you have terrible insurance for therapy clinics.” The PT on the line informed me. 

“Oh.” My stomach sank.

“Here is what I will do for you. I have the phone number for the parent liaison for a great program called Early Intervention. If your daughter qualifies EI will cover most or all of the therapy costs. Let me call her and get you connected. This process usually takes months but if I refer you it may speed things up for you.”

“Wow! Thank you!” I begin to choke up. The kindness of a total stranger took the weight off my shoulders that day. 

“Hello, is this Heather?”

“Hello. Yes”

“Hi, this is Ramona from Early Intervention. I hear you have a sweet little girl who may need our help. I actually just had someone cancel their evaluation for next week. Would you like to take their spot?” 

I am caught off guard by the gracious voice and kind words of this Ramona lady. She sounds like she could be my moms age which instantly has be in tears. I feel like a little girl, invited into a warm motherly embrace. I take a deep breath and steady my voice.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much.”