A sweet friend that follows Noah's progress sent me information on the Anat Baniel Method for therapy treatment a few days ago. I finally had a chance to look at the website. The testimonials sound like this type of therapy makes you almost near perfect within a matter of sessions. There is a DVD that I could buy and watch but it's $109. And not something that I see us being able to purchase anytime soon. I want so badly to believe there is a way - some way out there of reversing every single difficulty Noah has. If I could find a way to believe it was all just that easy, I'd find a way to fly away to California today. It often feels like trying to chase a butterfly without a net.
It was wonderful to talk to Noah's therapist, Beth, about all these alternative therapies that have been on my mind lately. She's like my link between the special needs world, the world in between, and the world as I once knew it. She understands the entire circle. Although she hadn't heard of the ABM therapy method either, she told me that she's never seen a complete recovery from any form of alternative therapies. Some children improve, but do we know if it was the alternative therapy, regular physical and occupational therapies, hyperbaric oxygen chambers, stem cells? No, not really. It might be a combination of things or none of those things. It was so nice to discuss how I was feeling about all these alternative therapies with her, because it just blew down all these huge bricks I've been building on my chest. A relief to know that in my heart, I am doing all that I can do for Noah. Even if I found a way to spend thousands upon thousands of dollars it is no guarantee that Noah would be any better off. I think that Noah's therapy has also in a way become my therapy. The freedom to feel as if Noah and I belong in a world which often reminds us we're not a part of the rest.
It's every mother's dream to have a child completely healed and recovered. I think often times the medical community thrives on that hope, they'll sell you any bill of goods they can because in the end it means a dream for you and money for them. And we are vulnerable. Easy prey. Our already sensitive heartstrings can be pulled and manipulated in various directions.
I asked Beth today if Noah could have a walker or bouncy seat. She said she thought it would be alright since Noah was putting weight on both his feet and didn't seem to have a tippy-toe problem at this time. I was excited simply because to me it meant it would be something an ordinary mother could get for their baby. But as all things go it wasn't as easy as that. We waited until after dinner hour to go out so there would be less people in the stores for Noah. We took our antibacterial wipes and just wiped down his hands after we sat him in each walker seat they had. Each one made him look like a floppy rag doll. He was all over the place in them, even if I used a blanket or a towel to put in the seat, none of them would have supported his neck or back or been able to give his body any sense of balance. It's a very hard thing sometimes. I forget because I'm Noah's mom just how different his little body can be, until I'm presented with situations that point it out to me. In pictures I'll admit Noah looks like any other baby, but he's not. I left Babies R Us feeling discouraged, with my face turning hot, my eyes watering as I held back yet just another painful moment.
My mother went with us to be a third set of hands because with Noah sometimes we need more than just Chris and I to shop and hold Noah at the same time. My mom detecting I'm sure my slight sadness over not being able to buy something I really wanted for Noah suggested all these other places we could try. In my head I kept thinking nothing is out there for Noah. Nothing is made for a baby like him. But Noah was still in a good mood and her suggestion of stopping off at Sears was on the way home.
Upon arriving on the second floor of the store, suddenly the perfect walker appeared. It was a Kolcraft Sesame Street Elmo Walker. I put Noah in it and he melted right in. It supported his back, gave him a snug fit, and his feet touched flat on the ground. Instantly he lit up in happiness and started to walk backwards with his feet. I was so happy just to see Noah moving I didn't even care that he was throwing his ride in reverse. My mom didn't even think twice, she picked up the box and off she went to the cashier. We had found it. The perfect walker just for Noah. And for a moment walking out of that store I felt like a mother that had achieved finding something her baby could enjoy.
Stacy, Chris & Noah