My son, Diego Grant, is the light of our world, the very reason for being.  He is the best thing that could have ever happened to us.

We have another child, a girl named Adelaide Rose, but there's just something about Diego that makes him stand out.  Maybe it's his huge, dark-brown eyes that are nearly black, or the ridiculously-long lashes.  Maybe it's his thick, dark-brown shock of wavy hair.  Maybe it's his winsome smile that causes people's hearts to melt every time they look at him.

Or maybe it's because it's because he's a child with special needs.  I don't know what the true reason is, but everytime people see Diego, they are drawn to him like moths to a flame.

Diego is five years old.  He was born with vision/hearing problems.  He cannot see that well, and is profoundly deaf (he communicates by making noise; his noises are happy or sad, depending on how he is feeling).  He can walk, but not well; he has cerebral palsy and usually sits in a wheelchair.  We feel that it isn't safe for him to navigate the world by himself because he doesn't have the visual or auditory clues to help him get around easily, so he uses his chair instead.

Diego, in addition to making noise, also communicates by pinching us.  We don't like it when he does this, but how is he to know what we are trying to say to him when he cannot see or hear?  We are trying to teach him sign language by signing into his hand, but so far, nothing seems to be working.  He'd rather test out his vocal cords (mostly in our ears) or pinch us; it's what he knows best.

It's extremely frustrating to us as well as other people who aren't used to dealing with children with Diego's set of problems.

We want to tell people that Diego doesn't mean to yell and scream or pinch, but for now that is his only way of communicating.  He is a good kid; it's just that life dealt him a cruel blow by giving him blindness and deafness, and because of it, his communication skills are extremely poor.

Obviously, Diego is behind developmentally as well as physically.  We hope that  in the near future he will be able to communicate via sign language; it would be a lot easier on our bodies!  It's embarrassing when people ask how we got all the bruises on our arms or faces; we don't want to tell them our four-year-old son did this to us because he cannot express his feelings as well as other children.  We also have to put up with the stares or finger pointing.

Meanwhile, Addie, our seven-year-old, has her own set of problems in dealing with her little brother.  She often doesn't understand why she was born healthy while her brother wasn't, and he often does things that embarrass her (sitting in the middle of the floor and rocking back and forth, or, if mad, he will strike himself in the head with his fists), or why Diego often needs help.  

I'm sure Addie wishes that Diego could walk better, run, or jump or that her brother could see, hear, or talk, just like any other child.  She often has to help him get dressed or help him with his bath or other affairs.  A lot of the time, vacations are planned around Diego's needs, since he cannot get around well without the aid of a wheelchair: anywhere we go has to be handicapped-accessible.

In addition to all of the above, Addie has to cope with other kids teasing her (or him).  It's no wonder her schoolwork has suffered because most kids don't understand what it's like to raise a child who is multi-handicapped.