In March of this year I was researching online specific behavior of one of my twins, Coby. After five kids I was pretty used to regular toddler behavior. But Coby, at 2 years, was not talking yet, and had very odd habits, and major tantrums. After reading over several blogs, over a dozen articles online, and watching a bunch of youtube videos I decided I needed to get Coby to a specialist. An Autism specialists. I did even more research on how I could get him evaluated, and found a research group that would do it. The Child Psychologist given to me by my insurance wouldn't even see him until he was either over three or after five years old.
On May 1st, my daughter's 7th birthday, we took Coby in for the 4 hour process of the Dr. observing him, playing with him, blood work, and different tests. The Dr. said he definitely had a delay. A "Global Developmental Delay" was what she called it. Heck if I knew what that meant then, or even still understand what that means now. So I thought okay good, she didn't say definitively that he was Autistic. However, she added to her initial diagnosis, "with a risk of Autism" because of Coby's mannerisms that were stereotypical Autistic habits.
So Coby's information was passed on to another agency which brought in another Dr. to observe him in a home setting. A two hour session of the doctor observing Coby and trying to get him to interact with her. But the overwhelming feelings I felt from being thrown into this world of Psychologists, social workers, evaluations, insurance calls, therapies for Coby, training classes for us, and people coming into my home every weekday for two hours a day was just too much. I held it together for as long as I could, but I just totally fell apart later that day. I was in the grocery store and got a text from my husband to "Have a good practice! I love you", and the tears just came. Right there while standing next to the diapers. Inside I'm trying to force myself to stop crying, but I had hit my limit. I couldn't hold it together anymore. So I called my husband and he calmed me down. He grew up with a sister with down syndrome so he assured me that we were going to be okay. I was just overwhelmed with all the information being thrown at me at once. But I was on my way to volleyball practice so it was a chance for me to exert some energy into something else besides stressing out.
But the distraction only lasts as long as the practice. As soon as I am home I see Coby but I realize even through my little meltdown because of how things are going to change so much for us, one thing never once changed. How much I love my son. If it is at all possible I loved him even more. I never once said I wish my son were normal. I was just relieved that we finally knew what could be going on with him. I know that Coby doesn't enjoy the doctors making him focus on specific tasks, but it is for his own good.
My family has this last week to enjoy our present normalcy before we have to altar everything around Coby and his therapy sessions and our parent training. On top of jobs, the other four kids, house cleaning/cooking, exercise, and trying to get sleep, it's going to be hard. Statistics I've read say that couples that have a special needs child increases chance of divorce and health problems connected to high stress levels. I'm sure that happens, but I refuse to believe it for us. What's the saying? God never gives you anything you can't handle. I think that's why He made me so stubborn. If anyone tells me I can't do anything then I'll try my darnedest to prove them wrong. Even if "them" is just a stupid statistic.
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" - Philippians 4:13
P.S. All prayers will be gladly appreciated. God Bless!