Gabe, School, and Autism

Whew! We are now in our fourth week of school. Gabe is doing great and it is sooo nice.

Gabe is our youngest child. He is two months shy of 9, and he is in the 3rd grade. His progress to this point has been nothing short of miraculous. As written in the Earth Angel post (http://myredefinedlife.blogspot.com/2011/11/earth-angel.html), Gabe has special needs. These are primarily neurological in that Gabe is Autistic. He was diagnosed when he was 2 1/2 years old. He also has some minor physical needs. He has weak fine motor skills. What that means specific to him is that he has weak hand coordination and strength.

A brief background: Gabe has been in a form of therapy (Physical, Occupational, Speech) since he was 3 months old. He was literally limp like a rag doll when he was born. And he had nystagmus (uncontrollable eye movements). We referred ourselved to Children First, a federal and state funded program that provides therapies for children birth to 3yo who are developmentally delayed 25% or more.

Long story short, Gabe learned to roll over when he was 11 months old. He walked 3 months later. His hands were balled into fists at birth, and after intensive therapy and hand splints, he was able to actually pick up objects on his own when he was almost 3yo. He spoke his first words when he was 3 1/2 yo. He had a vocabulary of almost 50 words a year later. He was successfully potty-trained when he was 5 yo.

Today, Gabe is right there with the other 3rd graders. And he talks waaaaay too much! We actually have to ask him to hush so we can have a few moments of quiet! He still needs help with activities that require hand strength. He is in an Inclusion class. Has been since he started 1st grade. And, for the most part, is a regular kid.

Autism, however, is a sneaky bastard. No two children manifest Autism the same way, and the severity is wide ranging. There are many symptoms. These include Avoiding eye contact, Social awkwardness (moreso than a typical child), Difficulty reading facial expressions and inability interpreting social interactions, Sensory sensitivities, Difficulty communicating, and Slowed emotional development. Loads of information can be found on the internet. We have lived with Autism for almost nine years now, and we are so used to Gabe's idiosyncracies that they are second nature.

Including low muscle tone, his Autism manifests itself several ways. The items listed here are the most obvious.

• Diet - Gabe doesn't eat meat. He enjoys cheese pizza but he will only eat Domino's, Pizza Hut or Sbarro. He eats primarily brown/beige foods - bread, crackers, pancakes, waffles, rolls, vanilla ice cream, apple sauce (under duress), vanilla wafers, to name a few. A very limited diet to say the least. Amazingly he is very healthy. We supplement his diet with vitamins, and he is in the 90th percentile for his age group in weight and about 100 percentile for height.
• Auditory - These set Gabriel off (upset him, he may stim out); vacuum cleaner, blow dryer, blender. Basically anything that sustains a white noise for a period of time. Loud noises also upset him. A raised voice distresses him immensely, regardless of where or from whom he hears it. I typically have a pair of ear plugs or his comfort blanket when we go to the movies, shows, concerts, arena games, etc. I think the worst is fireworks. This year, for the first time since Gabe was born, we went to downtown to watch the city fireworks. Gabe was huddled in two blankets, had my noise-canceling earphones on, and played children's music on my iPod the entire time. As hot as it was, and though the fireworks were across the river, Gabe wanted no part of it.

Earth Angel

It's serendipitious how things happen in groups. In 2002 we lost a son. One year and two days later, we welcomed another son. And what should have been an incredibly joyous occasion was incredibly bittersweet.

I believe that God only gives us what we are capable of handling in our lives at the time. And I believe that God chose to take Baby Rufus as an angel so that he could watch over his little brother Gabriel. Why DH and I chose to have another child, I can't really explain. Each couple has their own reason for choosing to have another child or not. We chose to try again.

But we hadn't anticipated expecting quite so soon. The emotions, stress, all that, convinced me it would be some time before I could get pregnant again. Boy, was I wrong! First time, whoopee! Five weeks later I bought five different pregnancy tests. Each morning I took another one. Each time it was positive. Terrified can't begin to describe how I felt. When I called DH in to tell him we both started crying. We opted to keep the news from our children until absolutely necessary.

Long story short, DH accompanied me to every appointment. And since the pregnancy was now considered high-risk, there were many more appointments. Of all my pregnancies, this was the most difficult; and not only because of the overwhelming fear that this child, too, may be taken. Sixteen weeks in I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes. I also had an Amniocentesis. I'd had one the previous pregnancy, but this one? In the first attempt the doctor nicked the placenta, so he had to do it again. The longest 10 minutes of my life. So, in addition to checking my glucose levels five times a day, I had to follow a strict diet.

Twenty-two weeks in and I started experiencing pre-term labor. From that point on I had two ultrasounds a week along with  weekly fetal monitoring. At least once a week I was admitted to the maternity ward to receive an IV for meds to slow down/stop the labor. At 24 weeks I was on bed rest. No work, children at school, no heavy activity. Too much time to think, wonder and panic. I poked and prodded almost incessently to be sure I could feel the baby growing inside me wiggle and squiggle. If five minutes went by without movement I panicked and started poking and prodding again.

DH asked if I wanted a baby shower. My response was a resounding 'No.' I didn't want to jinx the pregnancy, and I didn't want to relive the pain of putting away another baby's belongings that would never be used. So, nothing in the house changed.

We told our children in July as they were getting ready to go on their first plane ride sans Mom and Dad. They were going to visit my sister, her family, and my parents in Texas. They were shocked. And what we were hoping was that the trip would soften the blow. I don't think it did. A few nights before they flew home my sister called and described an incident involving DOS. I did then, and I do now, believe that unfortunate that it was (it was not serious, but it was upsetting) it was DOS's outward manifestation of his sorrow, confusion and angst.

When we found out we were expecting, our first concern was the due date. It was calendared at December 14. C-Section was scheduled for December 1. But DH and I knew baby would be coming sooner. We just hoped and prayed it would not be on November 14.

The week of November 12 was tough. Every day the labor pains continued, and every day I kept on taking my meds to stave them off. November 14 came, and we visited Angel Baby's graveside. It was hard. DD stayed close by, almost hugging me the entire time. November 15. Then Sunday, November 16, I couldn't take it any more. Our neighbor and good friend, Kim, took DD and DOS, and DH and I were off to the hospital. Not to deliver a baby, but to hopefully keep him in the womb for at least another week. But as soon as I was hooked up to the fetal monitor, IV, etc. it was apparent that baby was coming. DH left the room to make some phone calls, the nurse had already left, and I was alone to contemplate the upcoming C-Section. I tried to remain calm, but I just couldn't stop crying. I was so scared. Ninety minutes later we welcomed Gabriel into the world. He was beautiful! His apgar was 10, and he was alive and breathing.

I don't remember much of 2003. It was such a difficult year. I think I blocked much of it out as the memories are so painful. 2004 was also a difficult year, but that is for another day. For this entry is about the birth of Gabriel, named after God's Archangel. He has special needs, about which we learned the first three years of his life. And that only makes him that much more precious to me.

Happy Birthday, Gabriel! My Earth Angel.

Angel Baby

Today is November 14, 2011. I start with this because it is the birth, and death, date of my third child. Rufus Hamons Jenkins III was due November 18, 2002 via planned C-Section. Thursday, November 14, was my last appointment before the C-Section.

As a family, we were very excited. DD was 10, and DOS had turned 9 the previous week. The pregnancy had gone incredibly well. There were no issues, and it was considered a low-risk pregnancy. So, I went to work and at 11:00 was in the exam room for our typical appointment. So, when the Ob-Gyn couldn't find the heartbeat at first, I was not alarmed. We figured it was the device as it was an older one. When she couldn't find baby's heartbeat with a different device, I started sweating. When they brought the ultrasound machine into the room, I knew something was very, very wrong. I called DH. His work was only a block away, and he could hear in my voice this was an emergency. He literally ran out of the office over to the doctor. The ultrasound proved devastating. Our sweet, lovely baby's heart, instead of rapidly beating, was still. "Check it again." I said. And still, no heartbeat.

Our world fell apart then and there. The office staff was hushed, and we were ushered into the scheduling room so they could schedule a C-Section ASAP. I couldn't fathom that this little being I'd been carrying for 9 months could actually have died. When we left the office, only DH and I, the doctor, and a couple office staff were present. The atmosphere was somber.

We went over to the school and took DD and DOS out. And we walked them over to the church. And it was there that we told them Baby Rufus would not be coming home with us. The sorrow in their little faces was indescribable. And the fear, when they looked at me, was worse. For I knew they were wondering if mommy was going away too. DOS cried, but DD was stoic. And to be honest, that scared me more than anything. I look back on that day and the weeks that followed, and I believe she was trying to be strong for me. But at such a young age! It was her for whom I hurt the most. She was so excited about being a big sister. She had helped plan the baby shower, and her participation in that and her gifts for her brother touched me more than almost anything else in the world. And I could see in her eyes, the depth of the loss she felt, and there was nothing I could do to take it away or make it better.

The rest of the afternoon blurred. Some things I remember clearly. Others not so much. A family friend came and took the children. She was their surrogate mom until my parents and sister came into town. And it was her, we knew, who would try to keep their days as normal as possible.

At the hospital we were ushered into a delivery room. I filled out the paperwork, and we just sat there. Waiting. I later found out the maternity ward had scheduled this C-Section to be the last for the day. Since this was the same hospital DH worked at, many of his coworkers, nurses and staff alike, came by to offer their condolences. DH's siblings came by, but I asked him to keep them from coming in. It was hard enough maintaining my composure. I just wanted to be alone. I didn't want to share this pain.

Then the phone rang. Earlier in the day I'd left a message on my Sunday School teacher's home phone to say briefly what had happened. It just so happened one of the ladies in my class had connections and found out what hospital we were in. So, Dawn called. She knew I didn't want to talk, but her phone call was cathartic. It roused me out of the shock I was in. And her call reminded me that though this was happening to me and my family, we were not alone in our sorrow.

A short time later we met with the anesthesiologist, doctor and nurses, and then DH and I were in the OR. Not long after that Baby Rufus was born. The room was silent. So, so silent.

As with all our children, DH went with baby to bathe and clothe him. And once I was in the recovery room, he and Baby Rufus came to visit. The nurses, staff, everyone, they were so considerate. We were the only ones in the recovery room, and they were so - reverential. The loss of a baby really does affect all souls.

We took photos, and then we went to a private room. It was in the maternity ward where the staff are best equipped to meet the needs of post-partum mothers. I didn't know until we checked out that we were in the room farthest from the nursery and there was a sign on our door to indicate the loss of a baby. DH and I spent the night with Baby Rufus. This is typical. And I am very thankful we had that night. It was my time to bond with my baby before letting him go. I talked to Baby Rufus while DH slept, and when dawn broke, I accepted what was and what had to be.

We had a graveside memorial service for Baby Rufus. DD and DOS selected special items to include in his casket, and we each added our mementos at the graveside. This was DD and DOS only time to visit their little brother. As hard as it was for mom and dad, we felt it would be exponentially more difficult for our children. We were amazed at the number of people; family, church members, coworkers, friends, school teachers and classmates, who came to the service. And I remember almost all of who was there.

I don't pretend to remember much of that week or many weeks following, but there were moments, events, significant times in which everything is still crystal clear. And I am thankful for those memories. They are special to me, and they are a gift to me. One of the the things I remember most during this time is that I learned the meaning of "Grace." I can't really put into words the definition of grace, but I do know what it is and from where it comes. And I know grace is a gift from God. A gift for which I am eternally grateful.

Happy Birthday Baby Rufus, my angel baby.