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I suppose I’ll always have my early intervention notes. I guess what I was wishing for as I was looking for books at the library today is how it is living with Cedar, my toddler. I guess the part that is strange for me is having lived through this twice before and the inevitable tendency to make comparisons. We’re told we shouldn’t, but it’s kind of an automatic process. I’m mining my past experience looking for hope, I suppose. Was my oldest this quiet? Was she this odd? When she babbled, was it the same? I didn’t record very much from that time because I was so anxious about her. Am I the same? Am I hiding from the reality of it as I did for the first couple months after Cedar was diagnosed? Hekka was diagnosed at a much older age (first through third grade), because her speech was not especially delayed. I went the long way around, looking for another explanation of her deficits. And a big part of finally accepting her diagnosis was seeing the disorder in myself. So there was double the grieving process and on the heels of that, Cedar’s diagnosis. And somewhere in there, Sputnik spending a lot of time in the assistant principal’s office.

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