Sunday, October 25, 2015

words. dna. anxiety.

the last post I vaguely alluded to it.  this one may not be any more specific.  we'll share more when we know more, and when we're ready.

first of all, asher is a happy, healthy, almost ten month old boy. 
but, he's also a very delayed little boy.  with more going on.  and, we haven't talked to many people about it.  for lots of reasons.  he was early. he was small.  even with putting those in the equation, things just don't add up.
so when he wakes at four a.m. to eat, for the third time that night, I nurse him, and lay there wide awake, going over every symptom, over and over and over.  I diagnose him, then undiagnose him.  I remind myself that there are millions of disorders I know nothings about.  I tell myself to sleep.  I take a deep breath and unclench my jaw.  I come downstairs and fall asleep to a television show because it makes my brain stop the cycle. 
but, then when daylight comes, i'm exhausted. and grumpy.  and not the best mom to any of my kids.  and over and over throughout the day I have to resist the urge to lay down on the couch and let the anxiety swallow me.  I want to scream, 'I can't do this.  I'm at capacity.  I can't take anything else.'

but, I make it through the day.  and the next.  and I whisper to myself, 'you can do hard things, andrea.'  I laugh.  I read books.  I sing.  I dance.  I go for a bike ride with big.  I cook meals. I apologize a million times for losing my temper, for not paying attention, and for my general disdain towards all living beings I interact with each day.

and last night, I did his dream feed, and then held him for just a few more minutes.  I rocked him as he slept, and prayed over him.  I don't have any great words to pray right now.  I don't even know what to ask for.  so I just tell Him things like, 'this is really hard' and 'for the love, please let me get a solid chunk of sleep tonight.'  And I looked at my son, and it occurred to me that every cell in his body, every copy of dna, every chromosome, God knew exactly what they look like.  He knew where mutations might have happened.  He knew the exact time they took place.  He knows what the diagnoses is going to be.
and for the first time in weeks, it felt peaceful to me.  it didn't change things right now.  but, it was comforting to think of God knowing. To picture Him sort of standing over the geneticist when they look through his blood sample trying to find the mutations. 

Tuesday is the beginning of this whole process for us.  we will see a specialist.  we will list all of our worries.  and we will begin looking for answers.  a diagnoses is just a word, in reality.  it doesn't change who our son is.  it can give us more information about him, about his needs.  about his future.  but, he will continue to be the same little boy he was the day before we have an answer.