Month: January 2016

My baby boy, my last child, turned six years old yesterday. My oh my how time flies. Just a couple of weeks ago, I noticed that there was no trace of baby left. He is all boy. That revelation brought a proud tear to my eye. He has been through some obstacles in his six years of life, but has the most joyous outlook on life. His smile and laughter are infectious. It is truly amazing how much he has grown in six years.

Caleb has always done things his way and in his time. He was my c-section baby because he changed his mind on being born after my water broke and changed positions. When he was born, he cried once and didn’t cry again. The neonatologists were brought in to examine him, but could find nothing wrong. I guess he just had nothing left to cry about.

He wasn’t a very fussy baby, which I thought at the time was a blessing. Then he didn’t hit his growth milestones. He wasn’t crawling by nine months, did not transition to solid food, and could sit for short periods of time if he extended his legs out. I couldn’t remember how old his brother was when he hit his milestones, so I tried not to worry about it and thought that Caleb would catch up. At his one year well-check, his pediatrician was concerned about his delays, so she referred us to the Babynet program and a pediatric neurologist. He was placed on the waiting list to see a developmental pediatrician.

He immediately started receiving early intervention therapy, physical therapy, occupational therapy, and speech therapy. He did well with PT and was discharged at 18 months, as he could walk and run by that point. The speech and OT continued.

He finally saw the developmental pediatrician just after his 2nd birthday. He had a battery of tests before we got the diagnosis, autism. I already knew that he had it, but was devastated nonetheless. Then I set about trying to make sure he had everything he needed to succeed. Mama Bear was born.

He started school at age three and it has been a journey. I am still in Mama Bear mode and I imagine I always will be. Fighting to ensure your child gets the best education and best care is a constant battle.

Now he is six. He is in K5 and loves it. He has friends. He loves everyone indiscriminately. He has broken every stereotype of autism. He is kind, empathetic, smiles all the time, and is such a silly boy. He still does things his way, in his time. He is joyous and a delight to everyone who comes in contact with him. He still does things his way and in his own time. I have come to accept this as just his stubbornness to be himself.

I have no doubt that this kid will go places. I think he can do anything he wants to do in life. He is obsessed with vehicles, so maybe he will design cars when he grows up, which would make his Grandaddy especially happy. Who knows? The sky is the limit for my little peanut. This mommy will be there every step of the way to watch my little ball of fire and energy grow up. I love him more than can be put into words.

Oh my little monkey Caleb. He’s a mess and always keeps me laughing. I really should write down all the funny things he says and keep it for when he is older.

For people not familiar with special needs kids and how the school district manages them, there are meetings upon meetings to come up with individualized educational plans (IEPs), and behavioral intervention meetings. I had a meeting with the school not too long ago. The teachers, school psychologist, and principal were there. The kids’ school has a great principal. He knows all the kids by name and always has a smile on his face. During the last meeting, he shared with me a Calebism. Every morning when Caleb sees him, he tells him “Mr. McCray, you have a bald head!” Usually Mr. McCray responds with something like he forgot to put his hair on that morning, etc. He just loves that Caleb says that every day, like it’s news to everyone. But my little guy is observant and honest, sometimes brutally so.

Caleb turns six this weekend. I have a hard time believing that the baby I once held is now a little boy, full of joy, and lots of mischief. Autism has not slowed this kid down. He barrels through life like a freight train. He hugs people like a linebacker. Backstory: Caleb’s occupational therapist is not only working on his fine motor skills, but also helping him know how to react in public. She went grocery shopping with us on Saturday. She made Caleb push the cart the whole time, so he could figure out how the maneuver around people and things. I think he had an extreme hatred for the cart by the time we left the store. I am hoping he’ll stop acting like a whirling dervish in public now. I doubt it, because being quiet is not his personality, but a mom can hope, right?

The other day I reminded him that his birthday is coming up soon. Then he informs me “Mommy, when I am six, I am going to get a job!” He gives the same answer to everyone who asks him. He’s not familiar with child labor laws, so his work will be helping around the house for now. What six year old tells you that he is getting a job on his next birthday? He’s a hoot. His OT and I decided that his first job should be an intragrocery transporter, i.e. push the cart.

His OT has been working with him on his handwriting as well. He’s got great penmanship for a kindergartner. She discovered recently that Caleb loves to write letters and put them in the mailbox. He wrote his grandparents, thanking them for his Christmas presents. He wrote a letter to his school principal, reminding him that he has a bald head. This week, he’s mailing a letter to Spongebob Squarepants. I’m not sure what it’s about, but I am sure I will laugh about it.

Oh this child! He is a gift from God. Obviously, the Man Upstairs knew I need to laugh daily, so he gave me a humorous child. There is no telling what this child will become in the future. I think he will do great things. And we will be laughing all the way.

It’s been awhile, too long, since I wrote a blog post. I am in a weird head space of late. I’m feeling nothing but feeling everything, all at the same time. I am mindful that January is my most difficult month. Many of my emotional traumas occurred during this month, and I guess I still have an anniversary syndrome of sorts. At the same time, one of the best things ever happened to me this month, and that was the birth of my second child. He was to be a February baby, a birthday present for my mom, whose birthday is the day before his due date. But he decided to show up early. That’s just how he is. He does things in his own time.

Despite my love for my youngest child, January is still difficult. It’s really the only time I cry over losing my paternal grandfather, even though that was 26 years ago. God help me if I hear “It Is Well With My Soul” during this time. It was his favorite hymn and makes me cry every time I hear it. I know he is in Heaven with my other grandparents, looking down on us, but it’s not the same.

The absolute worst thing that happened in January and what the majority of my friends and family don’t know the details of is that I was sexually assaulted by my then boyfriend in January 1992. He was emotionally and somewhat physically abusive and caused so much damage to my psyche that I ended up being admitted to a psychiatric hospital because of severe depression. I don’t remember every detail, being that it happened when I was 17, but I still remember enough of what happened. I also still get flashbacks when I drive past the street where he lived and when I see someone who looks like him out and about in my hometown. My logical mind says this is all completely ridiculous to still be concerned with so far after the fact, but something important was lost, my innocence.

The power of the loss of innocence cannot be measured. It hardens a person’s heart. I lost the love of my life due to my unwilling heart. I don’t think I ever allowed myself to love someone else fully, though I did come close. I think it was also the beginning of a long line of bad relationships. It didn’t help that my self-esteem was nonexistent for years. I wanted and still want to be loved.

I often feel broken because of my life’s experiences. Having bipolar disorder and anxiety disorder doesn’t help in any way. I was diagnosed with clinical depression after that event. I would go on to have two additional inpatient hospitalizations. I finally got the correct diagnosis at age 34 of Bipolar II Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. It was both a relief and shock to receive those diagnoses. The stigma associated with mental illness plus my barely existent self esteem made life pretty difficult. I married a man I never truly loved, but have two beautiful children because of him, who are the joys of my life. He also tore me down, emotionally. The verbal, emotional, and financial abuse was almost as bad as being sexually assaulted. Having the very thing that stigmatizes you then be used against you is immensely hurtful. I stayed because I thought it was the right thing to do, but in reality, I should have left a long time ago.

So here I am, at 41 years of age. I am a mother to the two coolest little boys on the planet. I am proud of what I have been able to accomplish in my career as a RN. We have a lovely house in a lovely neighborhood. Although my youngest has autism, I have never seen a child with such unbridled joy. My 8 year old is very sensitive and shy, as I was when I was a child. I just hope he can avoid the genetics of bipolar.

Something is missing, however. Maybe I will never be loved again. That thought hurts me to the core. I would like my children to experience what it is like to have a great dad, a loving dad, an involved dad. I would hope that my children and I are worthy of that. I can’t say that I don’t have any regrets, because I do have many regrets. I miss my innocence most of all.