By Jonathan Martin
Seattle Times staff reporter

They weren't prepared for the devastating news: He was already significantly behind in speech and motor skills for reasons that remained a mystery.

"I came home and fell apart," said Richards. "I envisioned a scenario where my son would be in a wheelchair the rest of his life."

With thrice-weekly sessions at Kindering, which provides family-centered services for children who are disabled or medically fragile, Adrian has hit his milestones, albeit late: rolling, crawling and saying his first word, "Mama," all in one magical week at the age of 12 months. He started walking at 16 months. Today he is a whippet-thin towhead who greets strangers with a grin.

For Adrian's parents, 2003 was a slow ascent from the depression, isolation and guilt common for parents of developmentally delayed children. They were buoyed by group counseling sessions at the Kindering Center, a beneficiary of the Seattle Times Fund For The Needy, where they met other couples grieving their children's misfortune.

Lee, an industrial hygienist, learned to stop problem-solving his son's delays. Richards, who quit a consulting job while pregnant, learned to stop comparing Adrian's stage of development to her friends' children.

"It helped to see him more as our child than as our project," said Lee.

The couple's emotional recovery mirrored Adrian's developments over the past year, said Elda Harada, a physical and occupational therapist at Kindering Center. The 41-year-old not-for-profit agency served 1,250 children under 3 years old last year, supplementing insurance payments with an endowment fund for the cost of care.

Adrian initially seemed to feel he would fall off the Earth if he rolled over, she said. But she taught Richards and Lee to incorporate a rollover into each diaper change. The repetition built Adrian's confidence that he "he wouldn't fall off the Earth if he moved," said Harada, until the magical week in August when he did it on his own.

Additional speech therapy and nutritional advice gradually eased the siege of anxiety, particularly for Richards. "That whole family has sort of emerged together," said Harada. "Their happiness has just blossomed."

It is still not clear why Adrian is delayed. Neither parent has a family history of birth defects, and Adrian's birth went well.

A comprehensive assessment at Children's Hospital didn't solve the mystery. Genetic tests came up negative, although the hospital's specialists said Adrian should be tested again later.

"Many of the times we unfortunately don't get a great answer to that question," said Dr. Bill Walker, director of the hospital's neurodevelopmental birth-defects clinic. "That's very frustrating for the parents, because they feel if I could name it, I'd know what I need to do to fix it."

Richards said Adrian's gains over the past year helped her to gain peace about his lack of diagnosis, as have the group counseling sessions at Kindering Center. Family therapist Julie Wood, who runs the eight-week "Unexpected Journey" group, said it is common for parents to grieve their child's lost health.

It is particularly difficult for parents of disabled toddlers, she said, because there are so many important milestones in the first two years. "By time child is 8, it may not be any less painful, but you've lived with it for eight years, and have developed different strategies for coping," said Wood.

Richards and Lee have begun e-mailing other parents they met in their group sessions, and hosted an ornament decorating party. "We're not alone," she said. "There are other parents dealing with these tough issues."

Jonathan Martin: 206-464-2605 or jmartin@seattletimes.com

Copyright © 2004 The Seattle Times Company