Early Intervention Works ~ Carrington's Story

My son Carrington, also known as Cary, is 8 years old. He is bright. He is curious. He notices things that others don’t, like when I move a plant or trim my hair.  Cary asks questions. Lots of them. Mind baffling questions that others don’t ask. Hypothetical questions. Worst case scenarios. His grandmother says he’s a different kind of thinker. 

Cary is sensitive. He sometimes has bad dreams and sheds tears if I raise my voice. He buried his head in my chest just this week and told me that I don’t know how tough it is to be a boy. I told him that he is right. I don’t know. I’ve never been a boy, but I can imagine that it can be tough. Very tough.

It can be tough being a mama, too. Very tough.

Carrington never learned to crawl. He scooted. He took his very first steps at the age of 19 months. At age 2, we were still waiting for him to speak his first word. It came eventually. Ah-uh for apple, followed by Ki-Ka for Kitty Cat. Carrington obviously had a developmental delay of some type. I was familiar with the realm of possibilities, the diagnoses and current trends in testing and education. I thought he may be autistic.

The decision to have him tested came fairly easily, despite others’ opinions that we should just “wait it out” and “see what happens.” “Everyone develops at their own pace,” they told us.  That is so true. Each of us develops at our own pace, do we not? But I did not want to wait to see what happens with my child’s development. I wanted to know what was wrong and how I could help him. I remember being heartbroken. Not because of the delay, but because I knew he was capable of so much more. Carrington had words in his head and words in his heart that he wanted to communicate, but did not have the ability to do so. I wanted to know what my son was trying to tell me. He was frustrated. Mark and I were frustrated.

Relief finally came in the form of the Infant and Toddler Connection of Virginia.  We reached out to the agency and expressed our concerns. We felt encouraged and reassured. We hired a therapist who came to our home and provided speech therapy to Carrington one day a week. The therapy included lessons for me, as well. I learned how to work with him at home. Each day we blew feathers off of what used to be my cutting board. We blew bubbles and more bubbles.  And more bubbles. Oh the bubbles. We went through the local school system for this testing. He was diagnosed with a primary developmental delay and a secondary speech delay. Though he was given a diagnosis, it was slight. The testers and teachers felt that with therapy he would be able to communicate fully and well and would catch up to his peers developmentally. After being given a diagnosis, Carrington was able to receive therapy from the public school system free of charge, and we no longer had to pay out of pocket for the services. Carrington began preschool, and a teacher went into his class once a week for the next two years, then followed up periodically to keep an eye on his progress. When Carrington finished preschool and registered for kindergarten, he was retested, and no longer qualified for special education. His IEP was shredded and was not made a part of his permanent school records.  This spring, Carrington was tested by the IGP (Gifted Education) Program. I received a letter in the mail yesterday saying that after a review, which included grades, standardized testing results (Stanford Tests), and aptitude testing results, he has been recommended for enrollment in the program. I knew he could do it.

I want to make the following two points with this post:      

First, never ever underestimate a child’s potential. Not every child will be recommended for the gifted program. Not every child will make the honor roll. Not every child will shred his IEP. Not every child will walk. Not every child will talk. But each and every child had untapped potential to reach their personal best, whatever that may be. What are insignificant steps to you and me can be huge milestones to a child, especially a child with special needs. Realize that each of us does develop in our own time and at our own pace, and each of us is unique. Some of us need an extra push, a little more encouragement. Please do not give up. Continue to push with the goal of reaching that full potential, whatever it may be.

Second, early intervention works. I feel certain Carrington would have talked. Eventually. What purpose would it have served to have made him wait? To have made him suffer in silence with frustration at his lack of communication? I am so glad we chose to take advantage of services that were offered here in our community, through the private provider, and through the local public school system. Our teachers, testers, and therapists were so professional and effective. They served my son well, and for that I am grateful. We all are. Carrington has a brighter future because people care about him, his education, and his abilities. We care about the person he is and who he has the potential to become.

If you suspect your child has a developmental delay, a speech delay, vision or hearing problems, or a learning disability, please do not hesitate to reach out to your pediatrician, your local school system, or another provider in your area. It doesn’t hurt to ask, and it could make a world of difference for your child.

Our first contact was our pediatrician, followed by the Infant and Toddler Connection of Virginia. To contact the organization, go to www.infantva.org or call 1-800-234-1448. The website is a wealth of information and a great resource.  Best of luck to you and your child.

xoxo, Erin

Southern Virginia Mom

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