Passing the Baton

I sat quietly in my chair, the room still. Tears pooled, then rolled down as I hung up the phone. The school had just shared that after recent evaluations, my daughter met criteria to be discharged from her IEP. She no longer needs school-based services.

Memories began to surface - a silent reel of moments stretching from five years ago to the present moment.

The Relay Race

We noticed early signs when she was 18 months old and reached out to Early Intervention. Speech therapy came first. At age two, occupational therapy was added for sensory sensitivity. At three, as we transitioned into preschool special education, a diagnosis opened the door to more coordinated support. Physical therapy followed. Feeding therapy followed as well. Given her sensory needs, we added adaptive swim sessions to help her explore and regulate her world.

For a long stretch of time, our weeks were full: ST. OT. PT. Feeding therapy. Swim.

Multiple sessions a week - every day meant heading to at least one appointment.

And every time, someone was waiting for her.

My daughter showed up too - quietly, steadily. She worked alongside her therapists, never complained, never gave up. Looking back, what stands out is not effort as pressure, but effort held inside safety - made possible by people who truly saw her.

When she started kindergarten, we transitioned again - this time into the public school system. A new environment can be overwhelming for many children. With the support of therapists, teachers, and thoughtful special education committees, she adjusted. As the school year progressed, services were revisited. OT gradually stepped back. Speech and physical therapy were reduced as her needs changed.

And now, in first grade, the school shared that this chapter of support can close.

Passing the Baton

Over the years, we have worked with more than ten therapists, attended numerous therapy sessions. As we moved from Early Intervention to preschool to school-age services, the baton was passed - carefully, intentionally - from one therapist to another. Each carried it with skill and kindness. Each brought a heart that truly sees the child, not just the "case."

To the Service Providers: You rarely stand in the spotlight, but I want to say this loudly: What you do matters. Your presence, patience, and consistency shape lives in ways you may never fully see.

Now, as my daughter no longer needs an IEP, I also recognize that this creates space. The baton continues on. Care flows toward other children who need it right now.

This isn’t a story about outcome. Every child’s path is different. Needs shift. Labels may come and go. None of that changes how I see my daughter or how deeply she is loved. She remains beautifully, uniquely herself as she finds her way in the world.

This is simply a pause - a moment of gratitude - for those who walked with us when support mattered most.