So despite how my last post sounded, we really have been doing ok.
The sadness, pain and heartache comes and goes in waves.
We have good and bad days.
Like I mentioned before, we've suspected this for quite some time now, so it wasn't a shock to us.
We had voiced our concerns to some family and friends, and I'm sure it was out of love and in an effort to be supportive, our fears were always quickly dismissed with a "Well boys usually develop slower", "Well he didn't have a sibling to really learn from," and a a couple "do you think maybe you're just being paranoid/extra worried?"...We never were offended or hurt by any of these responses, and to be honest many times we allowed ourselves to believe them, to feel comforted.
But we knew.
There were a few times when we sat down together and tried to figure out if we were really just being paranoid. We would just try and ignore our suspicions, but they were always there, deep down, festering inside of us.
To be honest, there hasn't been a day since we found out I was pregnant with Ez that I haven't wondered. We knew there was a 25% chance, since we already had a son with ASD. But I promise you there is not one parent out there with a child who has ASD that hasn't wondered or worried about the same thing for their other children, at least I know I'm not alone with this feeling.
We have been seeing state early intervention specialists & doctors since August (we made the appointment in February...i'll talk about that atrocity in another post). We were told he was "At Risk for Autism" by several different specialists/doctors. We knew this, which is why we sought them out.
So we powered forward, still doing ok, still strong.
We just wanted to either get a diagnosis or rule it out completely. We wanted this torture to be over with, we wanted to be able to deal with this head on, instead of dancing around it any longer.
I remember sitting in the exam room/office for hours talking about Ezra, filling out paperwork, and answering question after question. I was completely holding it together, I really was doing so good. I just wanted to get through it, get Ezra the help he needs. I was all business.
We were at the end of the appointment.
We had already agreed in previous appointments that he had ASD. This appointment was to get it officially on paper, and I knew that. I was given paperwork/evaluation tools to fill out for her and bring back to the appointment and give to her.
Keep in mind, I literally hadn't shed a tear or even anything for the last few months (like I said, I was all business--trying to get things done...I didn't want to get emotional, because I knew i'd fall apart).
She turned to me and said "So we do not even need to score these (the evaluation questionnaires she wanted to me fill out & bring back). I've seen enough and we have enough here to write the diagnosis without even scoring these."
For some reason that triggered EVERYTHING i'd been holding in for months.
I got that lump. You know the one you get in your throat when you're trying not to cry?
I felt the tears falling. At that moment for the first time, I felt shocked.
I had to pull myself together. I needed to be strong. To get through the rest of this appointment.
I stood up, went over to Ezra to clean up the mess he was making with his granola bar, I needed to be distracted.
The appointment ended. I walked out to my car and buckled Ezra into his carseat.
I sat down in the front seat and looked at the paperwork she had given me.
There it was.
It was the first time i'd seen it officially on paper.
Global Developmental Delays, 732.42
Communication Disorder, 784.42
Coordination Disorder, 781.59
Sensory Processing Disorder, 313.9
Sleep Disorder, 780.56
I instantly became sick.
I lost it.
In that moment, all i wanted was to curl up in bed with Jeremy and my boys and cuddle for days.
And we did, that night.
We cuddled in bed holding each other, crying and laughing at Recker singing disney songs for us.