Am I Going to Keep Mourning What Isn't?

I've been keeping things fairly light here. I've stayed away from blogging about anything too deep or emotional. A specific post that I read recently, on a blog that I follow, got me thinking. The post was from, The Fragile X Files and it was entitled, Comparing Apples to Apples. The post is about one of the inevitable pitfalls of parenting - comparing your kids to other kids.

When it comes to children with special needs, the act of comparing is a slippery slope. The adage that children develop at their own pace is no longer a relevant excuse for missed milestones,

"...there's a standard by which children are expected to have reached certain milestones. How else would they come up with what is standard and typical, without comparing? How else could they determine who is developmentally delayed?"

The author speaks of comparing her twin boys (both of whom have Fragile X Syndrome) to typical children:

"...as a parent of children with developmental delays for several years now, you'd think I'd be better at not comparing them to other kids..."

She goes on to say that comparing her boys to children within the Fragile X community is often more challenging for her because it means that she is comparing 'apples to apples'. Those more severely affected by the syndrome (like her boys) stand out from those who are only mildly affected.

After reading the post, I decided to leave a comment for her. Here is part of what I said:

My son doesn't have a diagnosis - other than the catchall ' global developmental delay.' I spend my time wishing I could find other kids like him so that I could compare apples to apples. He is non-verbal and it's hard to compare him to kids that can verbalize their wants and needs, their likes and dislikes.

I could have written more, but instead of filling the comment box, I decided to write my thoughts here.

Like The Fragile X Files author, I don't spend a lot of time comparing my son to typical eight year old boys. Carter is so far removed from where he should be developmentally that I try hard not to go there too often, and when I do, it's never for for very long. 

I have, on several occasions, compared him to other children with special needs though. I even wrote about it a few years ago on Bloom. 

Back then I was comparing him to the kids in his horseback riding group. Lately, I've been comparing him to his teammates on his Challenge League soccer team.

I compare and I wonder, if I could snap my fingers and magically changes things, would I trade Carter's inability to speak for a different disability? Would I rather he be challenged with a physical disability but be able to call my name? Would I rather he have behaviour issues but function at a higher level cognitively?

I don't have the answers to those questions. Nor do I need to come up with answers, because I won't ever be able to magically change the fact that my son is non-verbal and has a cognitive disability. 

In the end, it comes back to a question the Fragile X Files author asks, All through his life, am I going to keep mourning what isn't? 

Someone else left a comment in response to her post,

Mourn, move on, enjoy the positive moments, then cycle through it again.

Sometimes that's all we can do.