And then last night it was Riley's turn to hit me with a real doozy. She was overly tired after her bath and ready to go to bed, but she wanted something. She wanted something but she couldn't communicate to me what she wanted. She is nonverbal, and I often speak "Riley," but I failed last night. I jumped into our regular guessing game and couldn't figure out the right answer. Keagan also jumped in to help me try to solve the puzzle once Riley's tears began. It was a heartbreaking 30 minutes for all of us that was only resolved when Riley gave up and decided to take her blanket as a consolation prize and go to bed. The experience was almost devastating and brought me to tears once both girls were asleep.
Shortly after, I stumbled upon this article that addressed everything written on my heart. I couldn't believe this mother had written my exact thoughts! I found both extreme comfort and pain in her words. The article was "Loving a Child Who Cannot Speak" by Katie at survivingadoption.blogspot.com.
"I have a daughter and she is nonverbal. It is one of the most difficult portions of my life. When the tears fall it becomes a guessing game. When we miss the mark of the needs the tears become screams. The frustration that mounts for everyone is intense. That screaming can last for what feels like an eternity. What ends it? Her resignation. She has no choice but to quit. Nobody is answering her need. Because we don't even know what it is.
Imagine all of your needs every single day and now imagine that you can never, not even once, tell one single person what you need. What a horrifying thing. Those dreams where you are being chased and you are scared and you try to scream for help but nothing comes out of your throat? That is her world. And we, as her parents, watch on in sheer pain and frustration. Just sign it!!! Just try to say something. Anything.
And she does. Every single day this brave soul yells out, makes sounds, tries. Not a single day goes by when she doesn't try. And her trying? It shatters me. I am her Mama after all and mamas makes things better. Don't we? Is there anything else that better describes what we do? We kiss bruises and skinned knees. We are the makers of magic and all wounds are healed by our touch.
But Me? I.can't.fix.this.
I can't wipe away this pain for her. And the sheer terror I face every day at the thought that she can't tell me what is wrong, who hurt her, what makes her happy and that I will get it wrong is something that breaks away pieces of me every single day.
Am I failing? No. I am not.
Is she failing? No. Never.
It is what it is.
Imagine sending your child to school or church and hoping and praying that nothing goes wrong. Imagine the stress of knowing that if something is wrong you, as the mom, will never know it. Wrongs could be committed at any moment and you won't know. The immense stress of wondering if you have chosen the right people to trust is never ending. If you are not with your child every waking minute, then that stress is with you.
And she never quits. This brave one? She owns me heart and soul.
So we try again. We get up and face the day. We encourage the yelling. Speak to us! Try again!! We smile with the laughter. We cringe with the grimace and hold out for that elusive hope. We learn that communication is more than words. And we learn to grant ourselves and those around us grace....And above all we know that love takes many forms. Love requires no words. It is an intangible, nonverbal force.
And intangible, nonverbal?
That's our playground, ya'll. We own this.
We've got this."
Her words are a glimpse into my heart. A heart that shatters everyday with what I can't fix in my Riley. But a heart that Riley pieces back together with her incredible love and joy that don't need any words.
I fell asleep last night, like I do many nights, being thankful for hope. Hope that the next time the Lord can help me figure it out, that Riley will continue to get better on using her communication device as a voice, and even hope that one day I may hear her say "mama." But even if I don't ever hear that word, I know my Riley loves me. And there is no question that she knows I love her! I love her with all the pieces of this fragile heart! And forever I will continue to fight, and guess, and speak "Riley" for
her. And definitely continue to hope!
That kind of love and that kind of hope needs no words. I love you Riley!
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