I just wrote about this. Like two weeks ago. Also it's been on my mind in the past...
I have been extremely under the weather this week. Animal seems to have something also. He is a super healthy boy (knock on wood) except for some heinous colds, we have been golden. Thursday morning when I opened his bedroom door there was a horrendous stench. If you are a mom, you know the one. Vomit. Fucking vomit. It was on his PJs, the sheets, the breathable crib liner, and his teddy. I was scared. Scared to look too closely at anything else. I just threw his lovey, and blankets in the hamper without examination.
I made a doctors appointment and took him in Friday.
I think I made a terrible choice when picking our pediatrician. In my defense, she tricked me. We met her at our birthing class and she fucking sold the shit out of herself and her practice. The hubby and I gobbled it up.
She really seemed to be all about her field. The nursing staff at the hospital also seemed to really like her. To be fair, she was really cool when he was born.
Since then however, well, it hasn't been a love fest.
We haven't seen her much, we mostly get her nurse practitioner or other doctor in her office. Some of them are awesome, some are not. She seems to have no patience for my high energy, temperamental son. That would be fine, if she was a waitress at Sizzler. She however is a pediatrician, that means she chose to work with children. They come in a wide array of temperaments. I know, because I also chose a profession that revolved around children. That means no matter how I feel inwardly about a certain persona, I am patient, kind, understanding, firm, and a professional. I don't ignore my "client" if he is a pill.
Here' s the other thing. Any toddler in that situation can be a nightmare. Mine often is, when he's there. I can see and feel her annoyance, and it's unsettling.
At this visit, she didn't speak to him. Only to me. She asked me to put him on my lap, and she asked me to help her examine his mouth, ears, heart and lungs. She asked me how old he was, which I found to be super annoying seeing as she has his chart before she walks in and he's been her patient since birth.
During the 15 minutes she spent with us, she told me "He doesn't talk". I told her, he didn't speak much, but he did have over a dozen words he said EVERY DAY, and more that he said occasionally. She repeated that "he didn't talk", and told me she wanted him to see a specialist. (Oh in case you wondered about his health, she said he was fine, his throat was irritated, he didn't need medicine. He would recover on his own) That could be. I'm not denying that he may need a specialist, I'm not a speech expert, but she didn't say hello or goodbye to him (two things he can say). She didn't try to engage him in anyway, and she didn't listen to me when I said he could talk, or even challenge what I said by asking him a question. I mentioned he'll be in preschool in just a few weeks when he turns two, and she said "why wait? You don't want to wait with speech delays"., A completely reasonable notion, I have asked at the last two well baby appointments about a speech delay. The last two times when I was the one worried, I was told "he's a boy and in a bilingual home, don't worry, this is normal".
On her way out the door, she asked me to stop and see Cindy (the receptionist) for the appointment with specialist.
Animal threw another little tantrum on the way out of the office because he wanted to play at the train table in the waiting room. I felt bad for him. I'm reading a discipline book right now by Dr. Karp, and it says in there to imagine myself as a toddler, always loosing. Being smaller, weaker and with less words than practically everyone around me. It's given me a lot more patience because it's so true. He just wanted to play trains, but first I whisked him away to be poked and prodded, then to be strapped into his car seat. It's no wondered he reverts to fussiness.
In the car, once music was playing, he looked at a favorite book happily. Pointing and asking "Es que?", saying "ball" and "car" when he found pictures of those things. When we got to Grandma's he didn't fuss, he just waved and said "Bye".
On my way in to work I did a mini soul search. Am I just not wanting to believe he may have a speech delay? Is it just wishful thinking on my part because I am his mother and I only want to see the best picture of him? I would say that is a total possibility. Honestly though as I recently mentioned, he really and truly is speaking. Clearly, I'm not the only one that understands his words. Is he very verbal? No. Working with his age group also lets me see, he's not that behind any more.
We're going to see the specialist. It can't hurt, right? If he does have a problem the sooner we know the better. I get that. I just refuse to let this person (doctor or not) who has spent only 15-30 minutes in the last year with my son. Tell me who he is, based on a mediocre (at best) visit.
If you were me. What might you do? Or think about all this?