A lot of people think I named my daughter after the Snow Queen. Not true. In fact, I believe I was one of the last people on the planet to see the movie. It wasn't until I was pushing her on a swing one day and another mom heard me say her name and became really excited that I finally decided I had to see what all the fuss was about...
I've loved her name since childhood. I just thought it was beautiful. Feminine, but strong. It means "noble". I always knew that if I had a daughter her name would be Elsa. Always.
I used to have trouble finding her name on items. You know how you go into a souvenir shop and see names on key chains or bracelets? I never see my name. Or my son's. Or my daughter's... at least, at first. I have no trouble finding her name now. I actually like it. I love unique names, but I love seeing hers everywhere. It's just a beautiful name! She has hats, socks, pants, shirts, dresses, blankets, even an "Elsa" doll. And I love it every time I see a little girl wearing anything from "Frozen", which is pretty often. I love seeing faces light up when they hear her name. Some kids don't even believe her when she says her name, and they'll come and ask me! Then I tell them, "Yes", and they'll grab her hand, and lead her to play with them. And she goes. At first...
I've watched her so many times, playing with other kids, but not really playing with them...
...A kingdom of isolation
and it looks like I'm the queen...
The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside
Couldn't keep it in, Heaven knows I've tried...
I've thought something was different for a long time. I've talked myself out of seeking further opinions so many times because she seems so "normal" to most everyone, whatever that means. But, I'm a mother...
Don't let them in, don't let them see
Be the good girl you always have to be
Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know...
Well, now they know...
I've gotten used to being a kind of disclaimer for my daughter. She will talk to anyone, anywhere, at any time, and ask anything. She doesn't have a real feel for personal boundaries or space. Because I never know what she's going to ask or say to complete strangers, I get nervous when she shows interest in someone new. And if she sees a baby, I've lost at least 10 minutes to her cooing and asking questions. She sometimes visibly makes people uncomfortable. But to me, she's just Elsa. So, I wait, and let her talk, and after a few seconds (or minutes, depending on the person's response to her), I begin the process of moving her along...
Let it go
Let it go
Can't hold it back anymore
Let it go
Let it go
Turn away and slam the door...
A few weeks ago, after showing Elsa's pediatrician page after page after page of my own research and details and frustrations on tear-stained papers, she agreed that further evaluation was needed. I broke down. Relief flooded through my body and I couldn't stop shaking... Just not in front of my girl. She reacts poorly to Mommy being upset. I have to stay strong for her. She needs me now more than ever.
"Are you okay, Mommy? Why are you crying?"
"I'm okay, Baby. Mommy is okay."
I took the lists of specialists and phone numbers and various program information and began hunting right away. Hours spent being referred from one place to another place, being put on waiting lists that were months long to have her evaluated... it's such a helpless feeling when you can't fix it. "It" is anything that makes your little one's world not perfect.
I remember finding out I was having a girl, having my Elsa. I dreamt about her. I envisioned what life would be like with her long hair and her pink kitties. The best part is, she's not really very much like I imagined she would be...
I don't care what they're going to say
Let the storm rage on...
I feel sorry for people who don't believe in God. They don't know what they're missing...
Full of frustration after weeks of brick walls and crying out to strangers, letters written, faxes sent, I found the name of a specialist who sounded promising. I tried to get ahold of his office and was told he had moved. I called the number anyway, hoping maybe someone could tell me where he had gone. A woman answered the call, and I began to tell her my story again.
"I keep getting referred around. I just want to get my daughter in for an evaluation. Please. I can see her struggling. I can see her frustration. Please."
The woman asked me, "What's her name?"
I said, "Elsa".
She said, "Huh... you know, I met an "Elsa" in the store the other day. She came right up to me and began to talk to me. We talked for several minutes and she told me all about her name and how she was born before "Frozen" and how the Snow Queen was named after her..."
I said, "Really? Was she a little blonde?"
The woman replied, "Yes! She was around 4 years old, and was so sweet! I remember her name because she was so friendly and just talked my ear off."
I broke down in tears.
"That's my daughter! That's her!"
It turns out the woman was the specialist's personal secretary. She took down all of my information and gave me her personal information. Before the week was over Elsa had an appointment to be seen. It's funny, God had used what I was afraid of as a gift to help my precious girl...
I have a hunch, an instinct, about what's going on. I think I've always known. A mother knows her baby. We'll have further testing to do whatever is necessary to help her. She deserves that.
I was out and about today running errands with her and my oldest daughter. As I listened to Elsa talking to some other small kids she saw, I heard one of the mothers seem to get upset with her for speaking to her child. I ran over and picked up my daughter in my arms. I looked at this mother and heard myself say, "She has special needs."
I regretted it as soon as it came out of my mouth. This woman doesn't deserve to know that. She isn't special enough to come into my daughter's world. My child did nothing wrong. She showed kindness in a world where most people stick up their noses as she says, "Hello". I tell her, "I will always say 'hi' to you." And then we play back and forth, which makes her smile again. Her only "special needs" are whatever it takes to make her happy.
I will never again be apprehensive of what Elsa might say or do. She's close enough to perfect for me. I struggle sometimes. I'm sure I will, until I learn what she needs. She's worth it. I just want to help her. Whatever my struggles may be, they are small compared to hers. I'm just a spectator. I'm amazed by her. I want her to know how much I love her. I want to tell her I'm sorry that I can't protect her all the time, that I couldn't protect her and make it better. I want to tell her that it's okay to be different. I want her to know I will always have her back. She is everything to me.
The cold never bothered me anyway...
