A Mothers Shame

Now that my daughter is almost two years old I can look back on the time when I first discovered I was pregnant with more clarity than before. My mother's words, however harsh, we not intended to hurt me. But it's difficult to take your mother telling you that she never thought you would be a mother because you are "all about Kirby" any way other than personal when you have a positive pregnancy test in your hands.

During my unbearably difficult pregnancy, and entering into single parenthood when Evelyn was only 4 months old I began to worry. Would I be a good mother? Am I too selfish? Self absorbed? Ambitious? Can I provide her everything she needs? But, I knew one thing for certain. I loved that little girl more than anything.
In the past 16 months I've worked hard. I've waitressed, and worked in a newspaper, and recently got hired as a copy writer for a large marketing firm. I play with her, bathe her, feed her, take her to the park, but when I am constantly working anywhere from 45-60 hours a week it's hard to feel like I'm sacrificing my relationship with my daughter, and her childhood in an attempt to provide stability for us.

During the times I do get to spend quality time with my daughter I have noticed for months now that, although she is incredibly bright and comprehends what I am saying she makes no attempt to speak back to me. Sometimes she grunts. Sometimes she coos but when it comes to language Mommom, and byebye are all that linger on her lips. And never combined, always repeated as if babbling. When I took Evelyn to her pediatrician for her 18 month check up she became concerned with my daughters lack of speech.
"We can try speech therapy, but it's possible she is just taking her time."

I thanked her kindly for her suggestion, and discussed it with Evelyn's father. We agreed to let her continue developing at her own pace and reassess the situation when she turned 2. The next three weeks I watched her as carefully as I could. I saw frustration, and exasperation. I watched as she would try to communicate, and seemed to grow almost exhausted by her inability to say anything.

I called Rick crying. "Maybe it was a bad idea to not put her in speech therapy. Am I not giving her enough time?"

He assured me I was a terrific mother, and that if I felt speech therapy was the right thing to do we would do it. I made the calls and proceeded to get the ball rolling. I was both excited and nervous.

It took a few weeks for any of the offices close to me to find an available time to meet with Evelyn. We walked into the office early Monday morning. Evie smiled and waved to the ladies and began to play with the toys in the lobby while I filled out the necessary paperwork. Shortly after our arrival Ms. Kathy lead us into a back room for Evelyn's evaluation. While they played with a toy bear, and tea cups Ms. Kathy tried repeatedly to get Evelyn to speak with her, or to reenact the things she was doing. "Bears sleepy Evie, can you cover him for me? He wants to go night night." Evie did what she always does, she would play and coo or even grunt but she refused to even attempt to speak a word. After we spent the hour together Ms. Kathy set me down to discuss her observation of the day.

"She is very bright, and perhaps even a little advanced in comprehension. She plays pretend extremely well and knows what you are asking her to do. But as far as vocal expression she is severely delayed. She has the expression range of a child 10 months a year a younger than her. But we will work with her, and see what we can do to help her over this hump. Do you talk to her a lot, describe things, explain things?"

I shook my head. "A little but I work a lot."

"I see. When was the last time she had her ears properly checked?"

I shrugged. "I don't really know."

Ms. Kathy frowned an expression that sent shame washing over me. "You need to get her ears checked. It may very well be the issue."

I nodded. "Absolutely."

I've replayed that expression in my head for days now. Have I hindered my daughters development because I'm quiet and introverted? Have I caused her delay because I work so much? Am I too much about "Kirby" that it has effected my daughter somehow? Have I failed her already as a mother?

I can't help but feel shame and wonder if it's normal. Is it?

Haiku War...

Sad Zombie:
Wondering through death

lost, lingering among lives,

devouring them.

Awkward Moments:

Stale silence stranded

like burnt orange paint on the wall

caked, and hollow.

Fresh Prince of Bell Air:

Just shooting B-ball

and suddenly you're filthy rich

willow whips her hair

In case you were wondering...

Dear Mr. McDreamy,
Can't help but miss you. And I hate that.
Sincerely,
Not really able to compare with paradise, and therefore forgotten...