Dec 17 2007
Not sure what to call this one…
I’m trying so hard not to talk about it, because I’m not even sure what to say about it yet. But I’m finding it impossible to talk about anything else, so here goes.
I’m swirling in a whirlwind of possible diagnoses. I feel suffocated by words and phrases: “Failure to thrive,” “fallen off the growth chart,” “severe developmental delay.” It all probably points to autism, though no one has dared to diagnose him yet. He’ll begin therapy and thorough evaluations soon. The unknown is terrifying. The “known” may be worse…
Hubby says I’m coping so much better than he is. I’m not sure if his statement is admiration or an accusation. He’s wrong, though. The truth is, I’m barely holding it together. In fact, mostly I’m NOT holding it together. I can’t tell you how many times over the last few days I’ve had to excuse myself so that I didn’t break down sobbing in front of anyone.
Oh, if you could see my baby!!! He is so beautiful. His face so perfect, his eyes exquisite, his smile so pure, his love so real. I don’t understand why life has to be so much harder for him. I want to be angry with someone about it. I want to scream, I want to blame. But a quiet, intangible something tells me to be still, that someone much more powerful and informed than I is in charge here, and that there is greater purpose here than I can comprehend right now.
Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask thee to stay
Close by me forever, and love me, I pray.
Bless all the dear children in thy tender care,
and fit us for heaven to live with thee there.
In my life, the greatest trials have generally hit at Christmas time. I’ve always wondered why that is—why do we have to ruin Christmas? But today I think that it may actually be a great blessing. The music, spirit, warmth, and message of Christmas buoy us up, strengthen us, help us to remember. It gives me the extra push I need to get through this.
I won’t tell you that I’m not scared— I’m more scared than I’ve ever been in my whole life. But I know that I’m not alone.
