My son is peacefully sleeping next to me as he woke at 5am and partied. He's been an early riser since birth. I've been a neurotic first time mom since his birth. We have had a beautiful journey together in these two and a half years since his arrival and in the time he spent within me growing. It was then that I developed this over sensitive sense of feeling like anything I did could hurt him. It was while he, the miracle within me, grew that I felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility and a complete understanding of my journey to Austin, Texas and most of all my journey as a human being on this planet. After all, the most I will leave behind are the words I instill in him. Words, words he has not been able to speak yet and what brings me here to my most treasured past time once again, writing.
Am I to blame? Did the vaccines do it? Is it autism? What if I didn't have any caffeine at all while pregnant? Could the zofran have done it? Damn it must be the zofran and why did I give in to the pain of pregnancy long morning sickness known as hyperemesis? This is where I am today, in this moment as I type this. Austin Enrique has been in therapy since he was eighteen months old, when others told me not to worry, and my mamadar said otherwise. There has been so much improvement. More than I have to time to write about as I know he will wake soon. Today at two and half he has what they consider the language of a 6-9 month old, a severe delay. He communicates just fine, just not with words. I was also given a list of things he should be doing but doesn't yet and then handed what threw me over the edge, because as anyone who knows me knows I am very sensitive, the neurologist talk.
We had this talk before but my pediatrician didn't see a need. Without disrespect to her diagnosis they want me to reconsider. I cried and cried. I told her I knew that this was not a big deal, that this was not an incurable disease but somehow I can't quite contain what I feel inside. Anger, sadness, lost, why me syndrome, why him, I did this....and it goes on and on. One thing that has changed so much I dislike myself for it, is my conviction that above all God has the last word. When it comes to Austin, my son, I struggle so much, more than I care to admit, to let go and let God. How so you say? I drive myself insane working to help him say the words he longs or maybe doesn't.
There's a toy that worked in therapy, no longer made, I hunt it down, There's a book that worked. I hunt it down. He can't make a session for various reasons I make sure he makes it up. Pre school check. Play time at the Y check. The list goes on and here is why none of this will ever satisfy me, because he will talk on God's time, not mine. That is where I have become a first level student in life for sure, in understanding that this is HIS journey not mine and I am simply his guide and that the best I can do is what I do and let go, surrender and trust.
Once upon a time in LA LA land of all places I knew this. Los Angeles of all places, was the greatest teacher I had encountered until now. It taught me to surrender, to let go, to accept, to embrace detours, to never give up, to see beyond what the eye can see and go within, to trust the process, to dance in the storm instead of waiting for it to pass, to believe in the unseen and to see with my heART. All things I have somehow forgotten since becoming a mom. Things I long to remember when I hear what I did today. As she spoke words of concern I clearly heard, remember God has the final say, and perhaps there's a glimmer of hope that I am not entirely lost in motherhood.
I don't mind being lost in motherhood but I certainly do dislike being lost in the constant thoughts of fear, for him, his journey, my mistakes. I keeping seeing the light in the dark skies that cover Texas as it's storm season. It pierces so powerfully through all the darkness summoning me asking me to see the woman I am and have always been, asking me to leave behind the thoughts of fear that becoming a mother have birthed and nursed.
What lies ahead I don't know but perhaps Ralph Waldo Emerson knew well from his experience what fear accomplished so he chose wisely these words he left behind, "What lies before us and what lies behind us are small matters compared to what lies within us." I've been here before. I met the darkness in the midst of a battlefield called Los Angeles many times and while I didn't always win, I grew towards the light with every battle. It appears the war has come and it is time to re learn how to choose the right words that allow the thoughts within to birth trust that all is as it should be and he is and will be fine. As I grow through this journey and accept that just for today I am overcome by fear (False Evidence Appearing Real) I trust that just like I have in the past I will win. My son is what I defend in this war and I have the intention of arming myself once again with all the bravery in the world, which sixteen years in LA gifted me so I can forgive myself and once again LET GO AND LET GOD! As I trust this will give way to a dream that exceeds my expectations, a dream where his words will be heard, right on time, not a minute too soon, a minute too late or on the developMENTAL guideline time but God's time.
Dear Austin Enrique,
I am humbled by your lessons. I am grateful! I love you more than words could ever express because for some things there simply are no words. You wouldn't have to say that you love me because I already know. More than words....
Love,
Mama Adri
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