Communication

How do you communicate when you have no words?

That has been a question that has been on my mind a great deal lately, but there are really two parts to it:

The first part is, Gabriel is unable to communicate to us. Without words or signs, he has to resort to crude invented gestures in an attempt to get what he wants or needs. He has a master poker face--it is difficult to get a read on what he is ever thinking.

Yesterday, late in the day I realized something: in our house, we offer food at meal times and snack times, and if the kids reject the proffered food, they wait until the next food time rolls around. We don't make a big deal of it, so they don't make a big deal of it--sometimes, they opt to forgo a certain meal because it looks less appetizing to them or because they are not feeling hungry, and we view that as their right. Here it was, however, at dinner time, and I noticed something. At breakfast, Gabriel had torn his waffle in half and fed it to the cats. At lunch time, he had not touched the chicken and rice on his plate. It was nearing 7 and all he had to eat that day was fruit snacks at snack time, and a great deal of water. Why wasn't he crying? Why wasn't he asking for food--bringing me boxes from the pantry or his pictures from the fridge; why was he in no way attempting to fulfill his need for sustenance? How had I gone all day without noticing that my little boy was hungry?

His lack of communication is hurting him, interfering with his life. We can be certain of that. Michael and I have both seen him dejectedly give up on a toy that another kid takes away because he doesn't know how to get it back. We have seen him sadly look on as other kids play together and he honestly doesn't know how to get their attention, to engage them to notice him. It breaks our hearts. Oh, I wish I control everything and make it so that he never felt left out or alone, but the fact of the matter is the only thing I can do is teach him these skills. I can intervene on his behalf, but he is not gaining anything by us rescuing him all the time.

Last night, Gabriel woke up screaming. For no apparent reason in the middle of the night, he began crying and fighting us. We tried everything in our parental arsenal to calm the poor fellow--we made him a sippy cup of warm milk, rocked him, sang to him, changed him, patted his back, rubbed his tummy...besides holding the milk as if scared it would disappear (but not drinking it), he continued with his broken sobs for well over an hour.

I called Dr. Driskell today in concern, and she said it is most likely a night terror. This is where the child does not wake up, but is rather still sleeping, still experiencing what is upsetting them. That means that they are difficult to console because they are non-responsive to outside stimuli, and that he probably won't remember it the next day. She gave us some tips for dealing with it in the future, but my heart aches for my little boy.

The other side of the communication dilemma--Gabriel is unable to communicate with us...but we are also unable to communicate with Gabriel.

I asked the Speech Therapist (Cassie) today if Gabe was able to understand us. She was hesitant to answer because it is difficult to determine exactly what is getting through and what is not, but based on his responsivity, we can assume:

He has some word association. If you say Glo, he knows we are talking about Rhonda. If you mention outside, he can run to the door. Saying snack will usually illicit movement toward the kitchen. He understands that some things have words attached to them, and he can recognize some of those words (names are probably the biggest ones).

But since he has so little emotional drive or social satisfaction out of others' approval, the complexities of speech are not something he grasps. He doesn't understand most directions or prompts, and a great deal of conversation is simply lost on him.

In a way, this answered the question I was so desperate but so afraid to ask:

Does Gabriel know that I love him?

I know that of course that is a tough concept for children to wrap their heads around, since it is so abstract. But I still tell him and try and show him every day that he and his sister and his brother mean the world to Mommy and Daddy. I guess what that means is that even if he does understand...he might not care.

That is my goal, then. Drawing Gabriel out--giving him the gift of communication. Helping him be able to get what he wants and needs without my help; to comprehend what others are telling him and be able to follow instructions; to not feel so alone. But most of all, I want him to know--be able to feel it is true--that his family loves him, and that nothing he will ever do will change that.

~Andie~