Tuesday, March 25, 2014

We've Lost Her Again...

She has seeped into that world of hers I deeply fear. It's that world she goes to, when our world has failed her. Our world no longer feels safe to her, she has no security and doesn't trust anyone around her. When she comes to our world it's usually with stimming, scripting, crying, screaming, high pitched vocalizations, manic behavior, ticking and that unintelligible language she resorts to.

She has clarity at times, but it diminishes in minutes.

Truth is, I knew this was going to happen, I knew it, and something in me remained silent and decided not to follow my gut.

Grace was placed in an inclusion class at the beginning of the year, and I knew it was not the appropriate setting for her. She was coming from a class of 9 children on the spectrum with 1 teacher and 3 assistants. There was absolute control in that classroom. That was her life for 3 years. That was all she knew.

Entering kindergarten my school district thought she might do well in the inclusion class, 17 kids, a special ed teacher half the day and a 1:1 for Grace. I knew it was wrong for her, I knew it all along, and I said nothing. And here we are searching for a new school for Grace.

I think when everyday is a constant fight, there are some moments when you just don't have any fight left in you. Maybe apart of me hoped and wanted to believe she could handle the bigger class with the typical children? Maybe I just wanted us to feel normal for once? But I knew in my heart of hearts...it was going to backfire in my face.

Everyday I wake up with anxiety. Will she have a good day? Will the school call me? Will she hit someone? Will she hit a peer? Will she injure herself? Will the kids laugh at her?

From the moment we drop her off until the moment I pick her up these anxieties and fears race through my head. It is almost a sigh of relief when her school day is over, because it is one more day closer to the end of her school year. If the behaviorlist walks her out, my heart drops, because that's the sign of a very unsuccessful day.

I can't believe we have lost her again. Everything we have worked so hard for is gone. I am not sure what she learned in kindergarten this year, but it taught me to always follow my gut and my instincts. I also learned to find my voice for her, and face the reality of the situations presented when it involves her education.

It took 5 people, 45 minutes, tears, screams, unintelligible language, hitting, kicking, scratching, coaxing, transitioning, carrying a thrashing 60 pound girl, to get her into school today

I felt lost as I held her fighting body. Ernesto looked like he was going to pass out from sadness and heart break. They told us to leave, they could handle it. Everything in my body wanted to scoop her and just take her home. I forced myself out of that school, into the car. My heart is still beating so fast, and the tears are just pouring out of my eyes. I feel helpless, because I can't help her. She is suffering and in that moment and many moments there is nothing I can do but just, WAIT. No child or parent should ever have to endure this emotional pain while dropping off at school.

After this morning I vow I will never let Grace down in this way ever again. I will do everything I can to make our world desirable so she can come back to us and trust us again. Whatever it takes, whatever I have to do, I will do it as long as I have to. We need to find her again. I need my girl back.

(DISCLAIMER:I will say her team is great, they have done everything and more for her. They have tailored her education in the best way possible and they are so loving and so patient with her. I am very thankful for all they have been trying to do. It is just not working. The reason being is the school is not an appropriate fit for her. She needs an appropriate setting for her needs.)