Navigating the rough seas that come with advocating for your child

If you've ever sat through an IEP (individualized education plan) meeting, you've likely found yourself confused, determined, frustrated, curious, optimistic, pessimistic, and a hundred other competing emotions. And it's not just parents, I know educators who feel the same way in these meetings. None of our children, special needs or not, come with a road map. And when parents and educators sit down at the conference table for an IEP meeting, tensions about what's the best educational path are inevitable.

In 2015, when Emelyn was approaching three years old, we began the intake process for her IEP at our local school system. Despite my best research, I still felt unprepared, confused, and timid. Were we walking the correct path, with the correct people, with the correct goals? I had no idea, but January of 2016 came and we signed the IEP and sent Emelyn off to the local school system’s preschool special education program. 

Fast forward several months and it was clear our IEP was not a success. Emelyn was not making progress—if anything, we were seeing regression since her departure from early intervention. After several meetings we decided to pull her out of the school system and enroll her in an ABA-based clinic. (See my two other blog posts about our ABA experience: New diagnosis, new therapy, new opportunities and ABA, it may not be what you think it is.) 

ABA was an immediate success for Emelyn. Within weeks of starting she gained skills we thought were years in the making. And she began opening up to the world around her. I’m convinced, more than two years later, she would not be where she is at today without the wonderful people and solid plan at her ABA clinic. They love her and they push her to be the best Emmy she can be. But, her time at her phenomenal ABA clinic will come to an end in 2019. She will age out of their program and we will return to the school system to continue Emelyn’s educational journey. This time, though, I will be a different kind of advocate for Emelyn. I have experience and knowledge that I didn’t have last time.  

This time last year, as I approached my final essay for my master’s degree, I sat with my advisor, curious about how in the world I was going to find inspiration to fill approximately 50 pages with coherent and purposeful words. With a broad umbrella of leadership, my advisor asked me what I was curious about and what would be meaningful for me to research and write about. Without much hesitation I shared my frustrations with advocating for Emelyn in an educational setting—how I lacked confidence in the next best steps, how the relative newness of DDX3X meant there wasn’t much data, and how I wasn’t alone in these feelings. And an idea was born.

Before I could write a word, I needed data—there was a tremendous amount of informal data floating around our private DDX3X Facebook group, but I needed data suitable for a scholarly publication. Collecting data on human subjects requires involvement from the Institutional Review Board (IRB) and when you’re talking about a vulnerable population, they (understandably) make sure you follow all the rules. Their approval process took two months, an 18-page application, and a lengthy survey. Once I had the IRB seal of approval I started collecting data and researching relevant peer-reviewed journals. I probably could have researched the thing to the end of the internet, but luckily my advisor, the wise Abrina Schnurman Crook, Ph.D, reeled me in. At last, after months of writing, my final essay was off to the second reader and this is where I held my breath. The second reader and director of the MALS program at Hollins University is a well-respected, retired superintendent of schools, Lorraine Lange, Ed.D. Would she tear it apart or bless it?

To my pleasant surprise, my final essay received her blessing (with a few small changes, mainly to grammar because let's be honest, that's not my thing) and I had the last requirement for graduation complete. My master’s journey came to an end. I’m embarrassed to admit, that was more than eight months ago. From time to time I talk to different DDX3X parents and share the completed essay to help them on their educational journey, I just haven’t devoted the time to sit down and prepare a blog post dedicated to sharing it broadly. Shame on me. But, finally, without further delay, here it is:

Leadership Strategy Manual for Navigating Elementary School Services for Children with a DDX3X Genetic Mutation (Also available for download on Hollins Digital Commons.)

You’ll find I grouped the essay by barriers—barriers our children face as a result of their DDX3X mutation, barriers our children face in the school system, and barriers parents face as they advocate for their child during the educational journey.

Is the essay perfect? Most definitely not, but it’s a start. If you’re a parent wondering aimlessly on the educational journey, I hope its content will provide guidance and direction to you. That is its intent—to help you navigate the rough seas that come with advocating for your child.

Graduation day with Patrick and Aubrey.
It was a gorgeous day on the Hollins campus.

New diagnosis, new therapy, new opportunities…

We’ve had our fair share of diagnosis days with Emelyn. Some were scary, some were puzzling, and some were welcomed with open arms. In June we headed to UVa with Emelyn to see her developmental pediatrician, Dr. Norwood. Our major goal at that appointment was to officially have Emelyn diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder (ASD). Why? Is an additional label really necessary? We felt it was and so did Dr. Norwood.

Prior to our appointment we spent time documenting Emelyn’s communication, behavior, and socialization skills/deficits to help make a case for the diagnosis. These are the criteria, as outlined in the DSM-V, medical professionals use to diagnose ASD. After having several people say, “Autism – Emelyn doesn’t have autism,” I thought we might be in for a battle. With four pages of notes, we were ready. Turns out Dr. Norwood had been thinking of an autism diagnosis for Emelyn since he first met her, but wanted us to first uncover the genetic components of her delays.

While Dr. Norwood had been thinking an ASD was in Emelyn’s future, it really hadn’t entered our mind until we visited Chicago in April. It was only after meeting several thriving girls with DDX3X that we realized why they were making the strides they were, especially in the area of communication – they had intensive applied behavior analysis (ABA) therapy (they too, often, but not always, had an ASD diagnosis). In looking at the original study (and only study at this point) published about the DDX3X mutation, 53% of girls have documented “behavior problems” such as ASD. As I learned more about ABA therapy it started to make sense why it was helping these girls and why it would have the potential to help Emelyn as well.

Upon receiving Emelyn’s ASD diagnosis, we immediately began the process of enrolling her at ABCs of ABA which is an ABA-based clinic. In addition to having to have the ASD diagnosis to do this, it also meant we had to withdraw Emelyn from Salem’s special education preschool program. At ABCs Emelyn receives treatment five days a week for just over four hours each day. While it’s called a clinic by insurance and medical standards, it looks and feels like a preschool setting. Emelyn has a team of ABA therapist/technicians who work with her day after day to overcome barriers to communicating, socializing, and learning. For each child at ABCs, just like for every child with ASD, the barriers are different. Emelyn’s plan of care is specific to her and feeds off of her other therapy goals.

Emelyn’s ABA therapy is built around positive reinforcement, which sometimes is just a hug or encouraging “yeah, Emmy – you did it!” and sometimes it’s a chance to splash in water after walking ten steps in her gait trainer. What I can tell you is we’ve seen remarkable changes in Emelyn in the eight weeks since she started there. She’s using her hands more, she’s become much more in tune to her surroundings and other people, and she’s starting to use her iPad to make choices between two different options. These are things we’ve been working on for more than a year now with little success, but in eight weeks at ABCs she’s made huge strides.

It’s not uncommon to pick Emelyn (or Emmy as she’s affectionately called at ABCs) up from school and hear, “She’s mad at us today. We really worked her hard.” Yet the next morning her smiles and giggles tell us she’s ready to go back for another day of hard work and cheers from her peers and therapists. Just saying the word school lights up her eyes.  

It's easy to see why one of the moms at
ABCs told me her son said, "Emmy just
laugh and laugh and laugh." 

While receiving an autism spectrum disorder diagnosis may have previously sounded scary to us, we welcomed this diagnosis because of the opportunity it offers Emelyn to reach her full potential. We still remain hopeful that Emelyn will one-day be able to communicate with us, and we feel ABA therapy has the best potential to help her reach this goal.      

The next great adventure

As 2015 comes to an end, so too does our Early Intervention services for Emelyn. And with the end of Early Intervention comes Emelyn’s next great adventure. On January 5, 2016, we send our 26 lb. two-year old off to East Salem Elementary School. Two days a week, she’ll be picked up by a bus in front of our house and taken off to Salem’s preschool special education program. While I wasn’t terribly sentimental about the change, another member of our family couldn’t seem to contain her emotions. Yes, Aubrey! When we casually mentioned Emelyn’s new adventure to Aubrey and she instantly became very sappy. At one point, in a high-pitched, shaky voice she declared, “I may actually cry tears of joy.” (She’s also quite concerned that Emelyn doesn’t have a book bag and school supplies. Emotional and practical, that girl.)

Emelyn and Aubrey visiting Santa in New Castle to
kick-off the Christmas season.

To Aubrey, going to school means Emelyn will learn to talk and walk. And to some extent, she’s right. While I don’t think Emelyn will be delivering messages to Aubrey’s East Salem friends, like Aubrey would like her to, I do have great hopes Emelyn will find her voice in preschool in 2016. It may not be spoken language, but maybe she’ll be able to find ways to “speak” to us using an alternative communications method. And between Emelyn’s curiosity about walking and the goals we put in her IEP (Individualized Education Program), walking independently in a gait trainer is a reasonable expectation this coming year for Emelyn.

For me, I’m also excited to have Emelyn around other children. Being at home this past year has given her the much needed one-on-one attention necessary to gain many new gross motor skills, not to mention some much needed weight. But now it’s time to work on her socialization skills too. While she always scores fairly high on the social/emotional developmental scales, she could definitely benefit from being around other children her age. 

2015 brought many exciting achievements for Emelyn. In the motor skill area, sitting independently without the fear she may topple over, manipulating objects with her hands in a much more meaningful way, transitioning from her belly to a sitting position, crawling on hands and knees/shins, pulling to stand, and even a little cruising on furniture were new for 2015. She’s also increased her receptive language skills, as well as, added a couple of inches of height and about six extra pounds of weight.  What will 2016 bring? While it’s hard to say exactly, we are very optimistic Emelyn’s next great adventure will bring more achievements for our curious little peanut in 2016. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!