Am I Doing the Right Things?

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You know those moments as a parent where you question if you are doing the right things?

I have them with all three of my kids. But with my son Cooper it’s times a hundred.

The stakes are higher. The decisions are monumental.

I want to help him as much as I possibly can. And in a way I often feel like it’s a race against time.

But often, the things that will help him, the therapies especially, cause him so much stress. He also works so hard every single day.

So I don’t know if I should do more. Or even change what we are already doing.

A few weeks ago I made the decision to start a new speech program with an Apraxia trained therapist. I agonized a bit.

Did I really want to try something new?

Part of me said no. We are doing enough. He is doing great.

But the other part of me had started hearing sounds and even words that I never in my wildest dreams thought would happen.

I accepted nonverbal. I was prepared for a life without words.

So this has been new, uncharted territory.

I am excited. I am hopeful. My gut said go for it. Give it a try.

But, it’s another thing. Another appointment. It’s starting over with a new building and new person.

And, it’s another thing that may not work. It’s time, money and energy. I will get my hopes up. I will crash after.

Not to mention that I have the worst memories of sitting in a tiny room with a 3 year old Cooper and a therapist, watching him meltdown, refusing to try, screaming, self injuring, trying to escape, all because she was trying to play with him.

I’d be sweating, wondering why. Why is this so hard for him? I typically cried after every appointment.

It’s been years since I sat in a room like that.

Yesterday, I found myself sitting on the floor, back to the door, blocking it, covering the light switch, removing the garbage can and starting to sweat. And removing Cooper’s shoes.

Only, this seemed different. He seemed excited. He seemed to understand the visual schedule. And the process.

He seemed willing to try. He was engaging with this new therapist.

He was making sounds.

Yes, he was a little wild at times. But this was different than the appointments I remembered.

Cooper lasted the whole appointment time.

The goal for us isn’t necessarily speaking. It’s trying.

It’s participating. It’s going. It’s showing up. It’s being together. It’s smiling and laughing. It’s engaging.

He did great. He’s growing up. He’s starting to try.

We may crawl, inch along, at the slowest pace. But I promise…we are moving forward.

Don’t count this kid out yet.

Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook and subscribe to our newsletter.

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Kate Swenson

Kate Swenson lives in Minnesota with her husband Jamie, and four children, Cooper, Sawyer, Harbor and Wynnie. Kate launched Finding Cooper's Voice from her couch while her now 11-year-old son Cooper was being diagnosed with autism. Back then it was a place to write. Today it is a living, thriving community of people who want to not only advocate for autism, but also make the world a better place for individuals with disabilities and their families. Her first book, Forever Boy, will be released, April 5, 2022.

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