On the Other Side of the Table

This was a piece I have submitted to the ASHA Leader, a publication for nationally licensed speech pathologists and audiologists.  It may not get published but we will survive, we always do.

I pride myself on being a mother. When I had my first baby I thought I automatically joined the ranks of the families I worked with because now, I too, had a child. But it does not work that way. As a therapist you are on “one side of the table” and gaining the perspective of the other side is something that can only be learned the hard way. On May 21^st of 2012, I started a journey to the “other side of the table.” That was the day my twins were born. I had healthy full-term twins, but, unfortunately my son, Easton, had issues. It all started with jaundice. Then there were latching problems, as well as colic. I quit eating gluten, dairy, eggs, citrus, and tomatoes. I taught Easton to latch. I weighed him two times a week and frequently consulted with a nutritionist and a pediatrician. At Easton's one month checkup, I heard the words Failure to Thrive, which did not resonate well with me. Around this time I started noticing Easton was not responding to noise, would not look at my face, and was very unhappy. Although premature, the diagnoses of Autism and Cerebral Palsy were already crossing my mind.

At age three months, I had him evaluated by the early intervention team, with whom I work. Easton was seen by my colleagues, the people who threw me a baby shower, the people I eat lunch with, and the people I rely on to help break bad news. Now I was on the other side of the table. It was terrifying.

Easton was diagnosed with a sensory disturbance, hypotonia, and mixed development. He failed his vision screening. It was recommend he receive occupational therapy (OT) and visit an ophthalmologist. We also were introduced to an Individualized Family Service Plan (IFSP) and a service coordinator. I cried.

The ophthalmologist visit revealed Easton had moderate farsightedness which allowed him Visually Impaired Services (VI). Then a follow-up ophthalmology appointment, only one month later, revealed his vision was fine. With a diagnosis of Visual Maturation Delay, VI services were discontinued.

Next, we started OT. I did infant massage, I swaddled, I made things visually stimulating. I dyed my blonde hair dark brown and started wearing bright red lipstick. This kid was going to look at me. Then he did. He even smiled. He started eating better, sleeping better, and playing better. OT was short lived. We were then introduced to physical therapy and that is where we stand at present. As I come up on Easton's six month review, I reflect on what it feels like to be on the the other side of the the table. We still have a ways to go, but to be honest, I feel blessed to say I am a speech pathologist who has been on both sides of the table. I have gained a different perspective for what I do and luckily have Easton to thank for this experience!