Again? Yes, again.
Another post about my angst over The Boy. It has to be so trite and just plain annoying by now. Hell, it annoys me. In our meetings with the psychologist, something new…and yet old…has surfaced.
I don’t want to get into details because my brain is tired of rolling it over. But the script reads blah, blah, blah…something else wrong….blah, blah, blah….Asperger’s Syndrome…wait, what? that was ruled out….too young to be ruled out…blah, blah, blah…wait, but I said this years ago. The dr. said “no”…freaking, useless, doctors….I know my son…blah, blah blah…more tests, but looks pretty likely. Fine then. Test. I know what the results will be. I said Asperger’s YEARS ago.
The Boy is supposed to go to his dad’s tomorrow. He is afraid to go. He loves going to his dad’s. Loves it. But that is where he got the flu or food poisoning…or whatever. He doesn’t want to go. He hasn’t seen his dad in 2 months. I said it is time to go. Get back on the horse, right? Wait…right? Right? I don’t know. It seems right. I see that The Boy needs a push…a little nudge. He needs to try to take his life back….one little piece at a time. I say “You are going. You can do this. ” He tears up at its mention. He says he will go next week. He has been saying that for weeks. His dad comes at 10:00 tomorrow morning. I feel it is right. But I sit on the edge of the bed watching him sleep…and cry. And I have one of those conversations with God that starts “God, I don’t ask for much….” But I do ask – all of the time.“Okay, God, The Boy doesn’t ask for much…..Please make this right. Please take away this fear…this…thing….that has taken hold of my son. He is NINE YEARS OLD.” But I am not angry. No, not angry. Just tired and heartbroken…and pleading with my God for one small miracle for my son. Just let him wake up with no fear. I can’t close the door on his dad’s truck and see him peering at me through the window with that fear in his eyes. Will I cave? Will I rip him out of the car and shelter him? Please. Will I be strong enough? Please. Am I right? Please God.
You hear the saying that having a child is like deciding to forever have your heart go walking outside your body. It’s a beautiful sentiment, but I don’t care about my heart.