When I look at all the paperwork from doctors and therapists (that I try and keep track of but somehow never really get under control) I can see it’s a lot.
When we have a tough day, when both boys are exhibiting the more difficult signs and symptoms of their diagnoses, I know it’s a lot.
I do my best to explain it, so you know what the heck is happening with my children and their ever-evolving list of medical needs.
But apparently, all the diagnoses up in here are getting a little confusing.
For the record, my oldest son is 13 years old. He is on the autism spectrum, has an anxiety disorder diagnosis and two autoimmune diagnosis – Sjogrens Syndrome and Lupus.
My youngest is 10. He is profoundly dyslexic, has a processing delay and anxiety disorder, and is also in the process of being further evaluated for neurological and/or mood disorders.
Yes, it’s a lot to keep track of.
But it is no where near enough information about these two.
I want you to know they are so freaking smart and funny.
I want you to know my oldest says he loves me now, sometimes, and means it. I wasn’t sure that was possible a few years ago.
I want you to know that no one snuggles better than my youngest, and that he just read me an entire chapter. A year ago he struggled to read the word “the”.
They both love their friends and love seeing them.
I want you to know they are young men – they are people first.
I want you to know that they are loved more than I ever thought possible by a mom that messes up more than I ever thought possible. I want you to know that by the grace of God, she keeps it together enough to keep going, to make progress, to live life.
I want you to know that my sons see the looks, the disapproval, the judgement. They are old enough now to perceive it, and it hurts.
I want you to know that the basics we take for grated are difficult feats for these kids. Things like showering, sleeping, eating and socializing – they all require more effort than seems fair.
I want you to know that nothing stops my boys. Not physical pain. Not emotional torment. Not the darkness of depression nor the accusation of anxiety. Not overwhelming fatigue or irrational fears.
They are the bravest two people I have ever met, with or without diagnoses.
I just wanted you to know.