I feel like I’m on the verge, the verge of something big. Huge even.
Life changing. ?
Not sure. But probably.
As I sit and await Tuesday, the day I’m starting the next step of this journey, I am anxious, scared, apprehensive, excited, and proud. Proud we made the decision to hope onto a plane, fly thousands of miles to meet people who I feel like I have known for all my life. We debated it for a brief minute many months ago and then jumped in with all our hearts. I’ve put a lot out there for “strangers” to see, but I wouldn’t have it any other way, and I’ve been welcomed into this family I didn’t know existed and didn’t really want to be a part of. But here I am. It made us know, we were most definitely not alone.
May 3rd I stopped deleting my drafted posts and introduced my littlest man and all his “issues” and how I was feeling. Within minutes I felt support and genuine concern and advice from people who didn’t even know me from a hole in the ground the day before. People who felt and are feeling the same way I was. They got “it” and made me and everything we were going through “normal”. It was a step for me in accepting N’s diagnosis. A big step.
With each week, I gained more confidence and let my wall down just a little bit more. I got to see, actually see with my own 2 eyes that everything will be ok. I would pull out of the sadness, anger, guilt, depression and come out on the other side. I’m there on the other side today. I may revert back tomorrow for a bit but I’ve broken the barrier once so it’s easier now to find the happiness again.
Now in a few short days I will be walking into rooms filled with people all walks and ages during this journey. I will be like the new kid in the room who has no idea what to do, where to go, or what to say. Looking for guidance, information, and support that only other parents and professionals can give me.
But at the same time. I’m scared. I know I’m going to cry. Probably all the time. I worry about being overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with everything.
We have no idea where N is going to fall medically, sensory, developmentally but just knowing that there will be no stares of wondering what is “wrong” or “why does that child have a feeding pump/hearing aid/breathe so loud?”, or “why isn’t he sitting on his own all the time? walking? talking” will be great. Somewhere where we fit in. No one will look at us outsiders or feel pity or disgust for our life or just simply ignore us like we aren’t even there because they all have lived it. These people know the joy and have been through the pits of Hell as well and understand it all. Honestly, this is why we are going. I’m going to love all the information I can bring back for myself and other professionals but just this feeling of not being alone is the reason we wanted to go in the first place. There’s something big to be said for not being alone.
Soon, in a few years, it’ll be all for N & E. He’ll have friends who are just like him and understand him because honestly, we won’t know exactly what he is going through or what it’s like to be a person living with these challenges. E will be able to connect with other siblings who will understand him and what he is dealing with and how he feels. We only know what it’s like helping to raise someone with these challenges.
So Tuesday is marking the start of something big I think. And we are ready to meet it head on.