So it is becoming entirely obvious that when it comes to my kids, I’m a worry wart. (and, irrationally protective-if there even is such a thing) This worry is keeping me up tonight. Now I know nothing bad is happening to the kids-they are all snug in bed sleeping. But I’m worrying about how they are growing up, if we are doing the right things, and what is going to happen at E.W.’s tests next week, such as what the outcome will be, or what we’ll do after finding out.
I love my babies to no end and I hate seeing any of them suffer. It is so disheartening on days when E.W. can’t process his feelings or tell us what he wants. And after a day like today, I should be snug in bed sleeping, not sitting here worried about his future. But I can’t help myself.
We already have an idea of what we are going to be told-and to be honest, it isn’t a huge surprise. After a year of trying to get the tests even scheduled, it’s a reality we should be used to. One day things are absolutely normal, the next my little boy has left the building left behind by a screaming child with no ability (or little) to process the world around him. The longer we go without help, the worse it gets. (at least so it seems) I guess, we have our own issues processing the situation we are in.
Being able to share it here has lessened the weight of it all, even just a little. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to share it with our friends and family, but it isn’t the easiest thing to bring up or talk about. We tend to keep our lives personal, not sharing with just anyone. Here, even if you know me, I feel like I’m talking to strangers-it feels like less pressure. I don’t want the whole world (well, rather our little world) knowing we are struggling with E.W. He is my little angel and has the biggest heart. He doesn’t deserve to deal with the things he is, and I hope and pray he gets the help he needs. But until then, I stick to blogging about it, preferring to share it with people (mostly) I don’t know until we have answers or a diagnosis.
It isn’t long now-just a short six days before he has his first set of tests done. Eight until the last are done. It seems like a decade-not a week. It has felt like years, not just a year since I talked to his doctor about what was going on. A year of fighting the school system to get him tested. That last one blows me away because this year they pushed it through without a hitch..
I guess I worry too much, I feel it isn’t enough. But worry isn’t going to get up at 5 with the kids, and since it is now after two, I should probably attempt this thing we all call sleep. Or this mama may just may wake up as Mommy2Tired. Thanks for reading through my rant/vent–your support means the world to me.
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