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Disability + Differences Spotlight || Vivian

My name is Shelley and this is Vivian! She is 7 years old and was born with limb differences. I live in Philadelphia with Vivian, my partner Robert, and Vivian’s big sisters Chloe (16) and Maya (14). Vivian matches up genetically with an ultra rare disorder called Kantaputra Syndrome but we often find ourselves not fitting into any one diagnosis or category. Vivian has always had challenges with speech, balance, and working memory and we recently learned that she has a brain difference that is likely the cause. As Vivian has continued to unfold, we have learned that flexibility is the best way always. She has taught us to be persistent and brave!

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Miggy: Welcome Shelley! And thank you so much for being willing to talk about Vivian and the experiences you’ve had as her mother. Can you take me back to the day you found out that Vivian would be disabled? Was this before birth, immediate after, or sometime after that? If applicable, how long did it take you to get a diagnosis? Do you remember how you felt? Can you compare those first thoughts and feelings with how you feel now?

Shelley: We approached our 20 week ultrasound like most everyone does — just wanting to know the gender of our baby! We had tickets to a show later that night and were generally ready for an awesome day. The day was turned upside down when the tech told us that it our baby had bilateral clubfoot, that her lower arms and lower legs were shorter than expected and that she likely did not have fingers. I was shocked and very, very sad. We were told that it was possible that something serious, even life threatening, could be the cause. She was not a planned-for baby but was very, very wanted and loved and I was deeply worried I would lose her. In the days and weeks we waited for test results, I struggled with the fear that I wouldn’t be able to handle what would be required of me as a mom, and that she would suffer, physically and emotionally.

Though the more major genetic causes were ruled out, the doctors weren’t sure what the cause was and how severe her issues might be.Throughout my pregnancy, we never got a good look at her face or hands and so it wasn’t until Vivian was born that we knew exactly what she would look like. After delivery, we learned she had a typical (beautiful!) face, and though her hands were contracted, she had all 10 digits. The bones in her forearms were (and continue to be) about half the typical length and are bowed. Genetic testing started on her first day of life. The clubfoot was corrected with casting and braces, and she received PT and OT starting in infancy.

Balance and coordination were not what was expected but we chalked it up to the early casting. She was a late walker and talker and eventually she was diagnosed with an expressive speech delay and has been in speech therapy continually since around 2 years old. We have recently learned that she also has a brain difference, a smaller than typical cerebellum, which likely contributes to most of her motor coordination and planning challenges, including speech. It also affects some cognitive functions like working memory and Vivian uses extra support at school.Around the age of 5, a persistent doctor in the Genetics Department of CHOP matched her with an extremely rare disorder called Kantaputra sydrome. With less than 10 known cases, it has not shed much light on her condition or what her future will be.

Most of the fears about Vivian that I had in the hours and days after the ultrasound were not realized. She has always been healthy and strong. She has reassured me again and again with her strength, her humor, her persistence. That said, she is still unfolding, and most days I feel my job is just to be a witness and a mirror to show her what she already possesses.
  [readmore title= “Click here to read Shelley’s really great insights on raising a child with a disability.”]

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Disability + Differences Spotlight || Lucy

My name is Liz and I am married to my college sweetheart, Phil. We live in a suburb of Chicago with our 3 kids, Zach (10), Lucy (6) and Alex (2). Lucy, was diagnosed with an ultra-rare genetic disorder when she was 18 months old, GRIN2B-Related Neurodevelopmental Disorder. The name is a mouthful to say and worse to type so we mostly just call it GRIN2B. The main symptoms are hypotonia, speech delays, gross and fine motor delays and intellectual disability. GRIN2B is also one of the genes that causes Autism. Lucy hasn’t received that diagnosis, but she has behavioral characteristics that overlap with Autism. To say this diagnosis has flipped our life upside down would be a bit of an understatement. There was little information about her disorder at the time she was diagnosed in 2014 so my husband and I connected with other GRIN2B parents through Facebook and started a non-profit to support families, promote awareness and fund research, called GRIN2B Foundation. 

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Miggy: Welcome Liz and thank you so much for being here today and sharing your story. First, can you take me back to the day you knew something wasn’t quite right with your daughter Lucy? Was this before birth, immediate after, or sometime after that? If applicable, how long did it take you to get a diagnosis? Do you remember how you felt?  Can you compare those first thoughts and feelings with how you feel now?

Liz: We had no idea anything was different when she was born. In retrospect, there were signs. She was the quietest baby, barely cried and slept a ton. She was our 2nd child and our 1st born was colicky for the first few months. Why would we question or worry about a quiet baby? At six months, she wasn’t sitting up, but the pediatrician thought it was fine. However, by then, daycare and family members were starting to question her vision. 

At seven months, I read an article about Rett Syndrome. I had never heard about it and I don’t even know how I found this article or why I read it. But it changed everything. All of a sudden, a light bulb went off as I was reading the characteristics of Rett Syndrome. I came home from work and, for the first time, really noticed that she wasn’t looking at us or responding to her name. She was also clasping her hands together repeatedly which was a sign of Rett Syndrome. At this point, we KNEW something was not right and we felt terrible we hadn’t picked up on this sooner. THANK GOD we had the world’s best pediatrician who took us seriously and immediately sent us off to see a bunch of specialists and referred us to start therapy with Early Intervention. I hear such horror stories from other families about doctors that don’t listen, and I know we were so lucky. When every test kept coming back negative, I just kept pushing our doctor for more testing and that eventually led us to a genetic test called Whole Exome Sequencing. When Lucy was 18 months old, the results came back that they found a mutation on her GRIN2B gene. Back then, there was no syndrome name, just a few papers about children with GRIN2B mutations. We were told there were approximately ten others diagnosed. There was no cure and no treatments. The only silver lining was that it was not progressive, though she would never “catch up.” We were lost and numb. We had no idea how to move forward and process this information. 
  [readmore title= “Click here to read more about Lucy and life with GRIN2B”]

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Disability + Differences Spotlight || Auri

Natalie Winters is a wife and mother of three young children (Maximus, 6, Lennox, 4, and Aurelia, 2). Her daughter Aurelia (or Auri) met all developmental milestones until her first birthday when her husband and she began to notice something was off. Auri was diagnosed with Aicardi-Goutieres Syndrome (AGS) when she was fourteen months old.

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Miggy: Hi Natalie, and welcome! Thank you so much for being here today and specifically sharing about your daughter Auri. First, can you take me back to the day you knew something wasn’t quite right with your daughter? Was this before birth, immediate after, or sometime after that? If applicable, how long did it take you to get a diagnosis? Do you remember how you felt? Can you compare those first thoughts and feelings with how you feel now?

Natalie: We began noticing that something wasn’t quite right around Auri’s first birthday. Initially, her left foot starting curling inward; and she scrunched her toes when she pulled to stand. At her one year appointment, the pediatrician thought Auri might need physical therapy. But, since she had been developing normally, the doctor had no concerns. About six weeks later, it was clear that Auri needed something more. We called the pediatrician, and she referred us to Duke neurology, who said we should take Auri immediately to the ER. That was scary, and we took two days to make the decision and go. After an MRI and lumbar puncture, the doctors believed Auri had a leukodystrophy. She was diagnosed on January 24th, two and a half weeks later, when her whole exome sequencing identified a mutation in her IFIH1 gene known to cause Aicardi-Goutieres Syndrome or AGS type 7. These past ten months have been a long rollercoaster, and we’re incredibly grateful for where we are now compared to where we were then. Life brings unexpected experiences, and this one has taught us to appreciate every day and every new accomplishment that Auri and our sons achieve.
  [readmore title= “Click on through to read more about Auri and her awesome family”]

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Growing Up and Out of Childhood Misconceptions

Do you ever feel like you didn’t receive the handbook on certain social norms? Like, there are times when everyone seems to know exactly what to do and you’re like, “Oh shoot… I would have done the opposite”  Or rather than not receiving the handbook, do you ever feel like the examples from your childhood–family, but also the wider culture of your school, church and friends–were just way off? And as you grow up you realize that what everyone deemed normal in your childhood is most definitely NOT normal once you’ve crossed the boarders past your childhood influences? I have definitely felt that way and I wanted to share two specific ways I now believe that what I was taught in my childhood were way off.

The first is my sense of humor… I don’t mean that I’m not sure if something is funny or if I am funny enough, but rather does my humor cross the line?

I recently spoke with a friend of mine that I’ve known since we were 9. We grew up together in a suburb of Denver and I was asking her if she ever felt that due to the culture of our local friends and most especially friends in our church, did she feel like she had a skewed sense of humor? Her answer was an emphatic YES. The culture where we grew up was that nearly everything was something to be laughed at as long as someone said it was a “joke.” There were certain families and individuals who seemed to have more influence in this belief system than others, and everyone else it seemed played along. One example I remember was a family in our church that I recognize as all having a cognitive disability–the parents and all the children. At best there was a very low-level tolerance for them. But most of the time there was exclusion, avoidance, and even if no one teased them to their faces there was plenty of teasing behind their backs and I found it curious when the adults who witnessed this either audibly laughed or stifled their smiles. Of course as this all seemed normal over time, I also engaged in this teasing and exclusion. One particular time that I am too ashamed to write about. 
  [readmore title= “This was a little heavier than I thought, but still so much to digest here. I’d love to hear your thoughts!”]

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The Disability+ Spotlight || Leanora

Leanora lives in London, and is a member of the Great Britain paraclimbing team. She has a diagnosis of ataxia and Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, which affects her coordination and balance, and causes joint dislocations and neurological symptoms. Although these have been present since birth, it has only been over the past few years that the symptoms began to worsen, and in her early twenties went through the process of being diagnosed with EDS, and then with ataxia. This year she competed at the world paraclimbing championships alongside other disabled athletes and won a bronze medal. One day she hopes for paraclimbing to be part of the paralympics.

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Miggy: Welcome Leanora! I’m so glad to have you here today on the newly minted Disability Spotlight. Let’s start at the beginning,  what do you remember about your early years? Overall how would you categorize your childhood (or do you)? Looking back now, do you have a different view of how those early years have shaped you?

Leanora: I mostly grew up without a diagnosis, though I’ve never been particularly “well.” It was when I was a teenager though that my parents became aware that something was wrong. I grew up with a lot of mental health problems and undiagnosed autism but I was also having pain and fatigue, and we went through this process of trying to get some answers without any success. So it’s hard to put my childhood into a category of “childhood with a disability” and “childhood without a disability.” In so many ways it was both–not having a name for my condition meant I was largely assumed to be able-bodied, and illness and disability wasn’t really centre stage in the way it might have been otherwise, but I also struggled in a lot of ways and it wasn’t always easy not having a simple answer for why that was.

In the end though I went through the process of getting diagnosed alone as an adult, right after I left university, because I’d become quite a lot sicker and I needed answers. Right as I grew into adulthood and got my independence, there was suddenly this role reversal where I would go into hospitals alone and come out with new diagnoses, which I would then explain to my parents and reassure them that I was okay. They had a lot of questions but they’ve also followed my lead in terms of how they deal with it. I wanted to protect them from having to guide me through it and in a lot of ways that’s forced me to take responsibility – I haven’t let people in to sit with me and hear what I was hearing and go through it with me, though I think in other ways I’ve also put pressure on them to be okay with it all. In part I think that comes down to my earlier experiences of illness, where I was largely working things out alone and nobody had answers for me, and that’s given me independence and resilience to cope mentally.
  [readmore title= “Click here to read the rest of Leanora’s interview. You’ll be glad you did!”]

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Shopping My Closet for Fall

I have plenty of clothes. I mean, not a like a half-a-Kardashain’s worth of clothing or anything, but I bet I have about an Osmond’s grandkids worth of clothing and shoot, who needs more than that? So this fall I decided that instead of shopping for new stuff (OK, except for 2 new tops!) I’d shop my closet. What I mean is that I have a lot of stuff that I don’t wear often, but I’d LIKE to wear more. Most of the time I default to wearing  jeans + T + cardigan combo, mixing it up with shoes and accessories to keep that look fresh. And honestly I still love that combo, BUT I have enough clothes, I just need to take the time and figure out how to put them together in ways that are comfortable for me. And when I say comfortable, I mean how it feels from a sensory standpoint (like if my jeans don’t have a healthy dose of lycra in them, then they better fit my body LIKE A GLOVE because ain’t got time for pants that squeeze in all the wrong places) and how they make me feel feel. 

I know I’ve got a good outfit on when I don’t think about how I look. I feel comfortable, confident and fully-myself so I don’t think about myself at all and instead I can focus on slaying all day. But when I have an outfit that doesn’t fit well, or just doesn’t feel like me I’m pulling at it a lot, trying to get it in that one right spot that makes it all look OK, and I feel awkward and I have that feeling you get when you’re not sure if you’ve got something in your teeth because is everyone looking at me weird? 

I finally spent some time going through my closet, putting some outfits together focusing on pieces that I want to wear more. I’m really glad I took the time to do this and I hope to do it again soon as I pulled some great outfits together many of which I’ve already worn (one of which I’m wearing right now). I’m going for lots of layers, cozyiness and bringing the 70’s silhouette back into my wardrobe, YAS!  I focus on a few of the same pieces used in different ways–bell bottom jeans, chunky cream sweater, overall denim jumper, rust colored button down. Here’s what I came up with. 
  [readmore title= “Click on through to see how I shopped my closet for some great new outfits!”]

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Evolution of a Special Needs, I mean Disability Mom

I would like to announce that I am finally rebooting The Special Needs Spotlight, except that I would also like to announce that  instead of it being called “The Special Needs Spotlight” it’s going to be called (for now) The Disability Spotlight. I’m going to be taking the term “special needs” out of my lexicon and I’d like to explain why. 

As parents in general, we are constantly evolving. From having babies, to toddlers, to kids to tween and teens. As our kids learn and grow, so do we. Hopefully. Over the past 9 years as a parent to a child with a disability, my views have shifted radically. I’m not the same person I was before–yet I AM (so weird)–and I try my best to keep up.

In the very beginning of our “journey” I was just a mom loving her new baby while trying to take it all in–the limb differences, the doctors’ appointments, the g-tube, the explanations to children everywhere, the sibling relationship, etc. I was treading water and surviving day to day. In the beginning what I most wanted to show the world was that we were not sad our daughter had a disability. (And yes, to be clear I have never shied a way from the word disability.) She wasn’t a burden! She wasn’t tragic! She was uniquely beautiful and I was so proud to be her mom. I wanted EVERYONE to know that the fear I once felt about having a child with a disability was wrong.

But that same desire to share what I was now learning also gave me away. It oozed of ableist sentiments that of course centered the able-bodied experience as the be-all end-all. It took a while for me to see that my daughter’s body and the disabled point-of-view that would be hers from birth to death was not a deviance from the one correct way of being–able-bodied–but rather, just another variance in the vast human condition that was just as valid and normal as anything else. Not normal as in “common”, but normal as in “part of the plan.” A type of humanity that was always meant to exist–in other words, disability is not a mistake. At least, not inherently.

And that was another part of my learning curve. I was so desperate to show the world that disability was good and right and awesome and and and that I had to one again sit and down and listen and realize, sometimes disability is hard, sad, tragic, and yes maybe even a mistake. But like everything else in life that falls under those categories, good can still grow from that rugged soil.
 
[readmore title= “More thoughts about my evolution as a disability advocate. I’d love to hear your thoughts.”]

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Hey, I'm Amy!

I'm an author, artist, and disability advocate. I live with my handsome husband and three beautiful daughters in Cincinnati, Ohio.

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