Gratitude
Thank you to everyone who left kind comments, and sent supportive emails. I read each and every one, and even though I did not respond to everyone, please know that they did reach me and they did help. I definitely didn’t expect to feel as anxious as I did, I had butterflies in the pit of my stomach. WHY? I mean the child is fine. No matter what happens, he’s going to be fine. I think it was the culmination of 6 years of mother’s instinct up for evaluation. 
Two other things happened to brighten my day yesterday – I won a giveaway. I won a lovely 99% pure silver necklace from Silver Mermaid Jewelry. This is from the fundraiser for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society that I told you about last week. The one for hosted by Who Knew Reviews. Lani was able to raise $772. She’s still short of her total fundraising goal, so if it moves you, please go visit her and donate. On a separate but related note, anybody see emails circulating talking about the benefits of soursop in fighting cancer? Just got an email yesterday but have never heard anything about this. Find this one very interesting, particularly as there are soursops from the neighbours’ tree just getting eaten by the birds right now.
That’s bound to make you feel better isn’t it. I am so grateful.
Now for the update. So I was surprised at how nervous I was on the eve of taking him to the doctor. I didn’t expect it. I’m rather practical when it comes to these things. Usually. So I decided to just email the post to the doctor so that he could see for himself in case I messed up the words and forgot (highly likely) all the salient points. Well he did read it, and he chatted with me one on one before we brought boy child in, and I think I was able to give a good sense of what my concerns were. Physically my boy checked out fine, maybe even great. But as I explained to his doctor, the concerns I have are less evident in a one-off situation and setting like this unless you provoke it. It’s more when he has to process his emotions, or a change of emotions. Or when he has to learn a new concept. Still the doctor did agree that there seems to be something that warrants further evaluation. And I was happy to hear that his side of the conversation was tending toward putting me in touch with someone who could assess and teach me the skills to help him. I am not looking for a label out of this.
I am not looking for – your child is autistic, or obsessive-compulsive, or any of the million and one labels. I am looking for someone to understand what he’s facing and armed with experience and understanding what the underlying causes could be, to help us to overcome those challenges. That’s it. No drugs, no labels… I know it’s all workable. I just need help, because I have exhausted my experience.
Speaking of which. I have to be very honest, I’m not sure how this post is turning out, because as I’m writing it I’m a little numb. I was so disappointed and angry last night, again. When it comes to this situation, I just feel like I need to keep my mouth shut and not speak to my very dear beloved family. They mean the world and moon and stars to me. I adore them. But I feel as though one or two are so dismissive of my concerns.
One of my big concerns is that he – in his words – just feels like crying, and he doesn’t know why. And it’s not every day, but it was twice in the last two weeks, and then yesterday again he told me he felt the same way. Yall need to understand how huge this is. For this child to come find me to talk about his feelings is ginormous. This is the child who if he gets mad or sad or whatever, will go to his room, lie in his bed until… I’m not really sure what goes on… but he will eventually, once he’s ok, return to join the rest of the family. And if you venture in at those times to ask what’s wrong, he won’t talk. If I ask I might get a nod if I ask the right question, or I may eventually be able to coax some clues out of him, and we take it from there.
Anyway, so when I am met with – oh he’s just sad, that happens. Hellooooo… I have 3. Do I not know what just sad looks like? I know it’s with the best of intentions but it feels so belittling… as if I’m imagining what I’m seeing. Or worse as though my wanting to do something about it is irrational. You know what. If I just followed what other people said, he’d still be sitting alone in a corner of a room filled with other kids interacting and thinking that’s what play is. It took work to get him where he is. Work that no-one else but my husband sees. The fact that you don’t see it is the testament to its success.
The other thing I heard from another family member was that “I hope you have money. You could go through all this, and at the end he could be totally normal.” Well, a – that’s what I’m hoping for, not some badge of handicap that gives “special” privileges. And, b – no I don’t have the money. And that might be a stumbling block that will delay all this. But this is going to happen. Isn’t it worth it? What’s the alternative? Settle for whatever happens? Isn’t it my job to protect the interests of my children above all else?
Please forgive the ranting, but I really just needed to vent. I’m okay now. Really. I am.
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About Me
A 30-ish mother of 3 and unintentional entrepreneur, I started my own IT Consultancy firm after layoffs at my old job. I balance the world of Corporate IT with my life as Manager of the education, health and well-being of my children.
Blogging from the Caribbean, I give tech advice to moms and write about raising 3 kids under 10, one of whom has been diagnosed with Aspergers.