Since he was 1 1/2 years old I had been asking his doctors to help me understand what was going on. Something wasn't right, but I had already proven myself irrational in the eyes of the doctors. He was 8 before anyone believed me enough to look. I feel like all of his teachers, doctors, and school administrators owed me an apology. What if I had lost all that time and he would be getting better instead of worse?
So I was right, now what?
I read books. I rearranged our entire existence. Sometimes things would be going so well I would forget. Then he'd have a tantrum. Then he would pull back into his world and be furious when anyone entered it. Then I would remember. As our younger son gets older and develops normally I see how vast the differences are between what should have been and what was. If J. had been my second born I would have seen and the doctors would have believed me.
So finally I am ready to see the specialists. Ready to know what I am up against. Ready to find out what to expect. Beyond that I don't know what we will get out of this. I just know I am ready to stop saying, "this isn't so bad, we can handle this". I am sure we can, but not without help or guidance. I hope we can get at least that.