My Boy.

Writing a blog can be a tricky thing. There's always the question of how much to share. I've become much more transparent than when I first started this blog. I didn't even share about my complications during Kaitlin's birth when I first started this.

 If I am too guarded, then the blog becomes little more than some cute photos that I post. Superficial, and not capturing the essence of our life as we grow our family. That isn't what I want ~ if I did, I'd just make a photo album. But there's vulnerability in sharing...a feeling of being exposed, if you will. I struggle with that.  Fear of judgement, perhaps.  But I really want this to be a record of our life's journey.  The joys and the struggles.  But I'd be lying if I said it isn't hard for me after I click the "publish" button after writing a post like this. 

I've made dear friendships through sharing about my own challenges that have resonated with others experiencing the same thing.  Bonds are quickly formed when a burden is shared.  In retrospect, the times in my life when I've been my most guarded have also been my loneliest. Sometimes I have trouble sharing about something until it has passed.  And then once it's resolved, I'll share the story in it's entirety, but in the middle, I feel like I just need to put my head down and push through.

It's even more complicated when it's about a child. Because it's their life that I'm sharing about, which is why I've made this blog private. Because I do want to share authentically, (to the point that I feel is appropriate) but I want to know who is reading it. Mostly to protect my kids. All that to say...I've shared on here about Andrew's diagnosis with Sensory Processing Disorder and ADHD.   It's hard because I feel like on the one hand, through sharing this it might help people to understand and be more patient with Andrew.  I also gain great information and resources from people who are in the same situation or are educated on the matter.  But I also hate the label being applied to him and wonder if it changes how people see him.  But I also don't like the feeling of shame that comes with secrecy.  Like that part of him isn't okay/accepted and we can't talk about it with others.  That's not what I want either.  It feels like a no win situation sometimes.      

I've mentioned previously that I sort of "tabled" the ADHD part until I could make my own judgement on that.  "Denial" might have been another word that I could have used there.

I wanted to believe the people who said.  "He's a boy."  "He's 4, 5, 6....(and now, nearly 7)."  "Who doesn't struggle with...."  And let's face it, we've all heard "ADHD" a little too often.  Even I have been a skeptic.  But sadly, it's not the case.  We've now had 3 very qualified people tell us otherwise.  We've gone through extensive testing.  Repeatedly.  We paid for people who were not covered by our insurance to see Andrew because we wanted to be certain.  We wanted only the most qualified to diagnose him, because we were both fearful of a misdiagnosis.  And yet, I still struggled to believe it.  But if I keep trying to believe otherwise it will be to Andrew's detriment.  And I want to say it here too, because as Dan and I were talking about tonight, it's hard when people dismiss this. We are not overreacting.  We are not making excuses.  We are not being sensitive.

This is real.  

And it is not easy.

The reason I am writing about this today is because I had a conversation with Andrew's teacher today that was hard.  It was confirmation in my mind of this diagnosis and it finally became real to me today.  My eyes were opened in a new way today and it made me realize how deeply I didn't want to  accept this for Andrew.  But that I have to.  I don't mean to over dramatize this.  I know this is not life threatening, and that there are parents out there facing dire situations with their children that would trade for this diagnosis in a heartbeat.  I know that.   And Andrew is healthy and has so much going for him.   And I am truly thankful for the blessing that he is and for his health.

But my heart is heavy today because I just want to make it easier for him...but I don't know how.  And I think that's one of the hardest feelings as a parent...when you want to fix something for your child, but you can't.  The future of the road we're on is undefined right now and that's an uncomfortable place for me to be.  I feel ill equipped to deal with this and uneducated. There are decisions that have to be made for Andrew that I/we cannot make right now, and I don't like that feeling.  I also feel guilty for not coming to terms with this sooner.

But I have faith we'll figure it out.  I know we'll get there.  I have already started reading and educating myself.   There isn't another alternative in my mind but to make certain that Andrew has the tools to succeed in life and to be able to learn how to work through this.   There is no "plan B" here.  Just a plan "A".  And he has so much going for him...we have a great place to start.  

There are just days, like today, that are hard. 

When we are out in a situation with people who don't know Andrew well, and there are circumstances that are challenging for him and he is struggling with his behavior and I see people look at him...and then look at me...I often find myself wishing that they could see through the behavior at that moment to see this little boy.



Who on this particular day, wanted to send a balloon up to heaven for Grandpapa.



And he might have trouble staying seated in a chair. 

And he might struggle to focus at times.

He might struggle with impulse control and self regulation.


But his heart is one in a million.

He is truly as sweet as they come.

 

I am so grateful for this child.  For all that he is now. And all that he will be.  
And I know that God has great things planned for his life.

 "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. " ~ Psalm 139:14 NIV