The things we do for the people we love

On some days, like today. I find it hard to come to terms with knowing that my little boy isn't just disabled. He is severely disabled. My little boy is severely disabled. He may never walk or talk and most likely, he will be wheelchair bound. He has the developmental age of a 6 month old. Mango will be 3 this June. He will be 3 years old and he is developmentally like a 6 month old. He was a 6 month old when he was 1 1/2 years old and when he was 2 year old and now when he is 3 years old. He hasn't moved. When he actually was 6 months old, he was developmentally still like a newborn baby. 

I just want to scream and pull my hair out. Not for myself but for Mango. For a boy who struggles everyday with things that we take for granted. Things that I take for granted everyday because I'm too consumed with taking care of all the things he has been disadvantaged of and things that come to us so naturally, like muscle movement or vision or hearing. 

I am also scared. I'm scared for me. I'm scared that my life will be too short or if I will get a terminal illness that takes away my ability to take care of my children. I'm scared of my heart breaking too many times, it decides to give up.

I'm scared for Mango. I'm scared for his future and what he will be in the next few years. I'm scared for when he turns 5 and he will have to go to school. I'm scared of him going to school. I'm scared of how he will be treated. I'm scared of how the world will treat him. I'm scared that his heart will hurt. I'm scared he will meet horrible and arrogant people that will leave a scar on his heart that I can't mend. I'm scared of losing him. I'm really scared of losing him. I am also scared that he will never know how much I love him. I'm scared that he will never know that I would give my heart to him if he ever needed it and I wouldn't think twice. I'm scared of a life without my heart because he is my heart.

I'm scared for plum and what his life will be like. I'm so scared of how his heart will break a little when he meets mean people that will give him a hard time about having a brother with a disability. I hurt for him knowing that he will have to face these things in life. I'm scared that he will know what it means to hurt everyday to see a loved one struggle with the things that we take for granted in life. I'm scared for his heart.

My dearest husband, who has been the strongest out of all of us. I'm scared that one day he will break and I wont be strong enough to hold him the way he holds me but I sure damn will give it everything I have. 

How do you protect the ones that you love from so much pain in your life. When all you want for the people you love is happiness. If the price I had to pay was my life to give my loved ones true happiness. I would do it. I want them to never know what pain and grief feels like. I want to protect them from all the evil hearts that are searching to break something. How though? How do I do it?

I've got you darling

I practice standing with Mango, everyday. Every. Single. Day. Some days I doubt if he will ever make it there and some days, my belief is so strong, that I can't understand the days that I ever had a single doubt. On the days that we don't have any appointments, we spend alot of our time on the floor together. Plum and Mango have learned to love each other and enjoy each others company, screaming, scratches and everything else that comes with brotherly love . Plum has been a great help and motivation for our Mango. He just seems more willing to do things while his little brother is sitting in front of him doing the same thing, together. 

Just like brothers, Plum has his back. 

Always ready to sit or stand with Mango. When Mango is on his tummy, Plum bend his head to the side and goes 'hmm?', as if to ask Mango is everything is ok. 

So today, while we were practicing our standing, leaning on Mango's special cut out table that happens to be the right height for the both of them to stand and lean on. Mango tried to move his left leg, lost balance and fell... Fell into my arms that were waiting for him. Yes, I was sitting right behind him ready to catch him, if he fell. I wouldn't have been anywhere else. In a split second, just as he lost his balance and the moment before I caught him, I saw panic in his eyes and as I caught him, I reassured him 'I've got you sweetie'. Yes, I've got you. I will always catch you, pumkin. His face relaxed as he realise that his Mama was right behind him, ready to catch him when he fell. My heart melted and I suddenly felt like crying. It was the moment that I realised, he knew, that I would always catch him if he fell. It'll never be any other way. Ever.

My little boys. Gosh, I love nappy bottoms. 

Reminder - I am important too

This is a post for me. A written post, to myself. This, is also an attempt to salvage what ever is left of my sane mind before I completely loose the plot. 

This moment right now. I can see the future going down hill from here. I feel like I'm trying to catch myself from drowning in an ocean of tears. I guess the thing is, that I knew this moment was coming and I just had to prepare myself for it to come. Except I'm starting to question myself, if this will be the cycle of my life. I take things on, not thinking how much it will weigh me down and then I sink. Is this what it means to take on one day at a time? Is it really what that means? Because if it is, then it's taken me two and half years to realised that somehow, as right as it seems, its so wrong. Except there is no other way.

The mother in me, the mother that I am, I can't allow myself to drown in my emotions when my babies need me. I think the past few months of Mango's appointments and hospital stays aren't only getting to me but to him as well. He has been so needy and cranky while Plum is teething crazy and extremely clingy. 

Today, I hit that brick wall, that I could see from a mile away. I hit it so hard, I couldn't take the impact of the crash. I put the kids down for a nap and the moment I stepped out of their room, it felt like my heart burst and I went crashing to the floor. I flooded the house today. I flooded the house with my grief, my guilt, my pain and mostly... my tears. I couldn't catch my breath, holding onto wall for support. What have I become? Where have I gone? Where am I?

I don't know what it was that got me back on my feet. I just somehow did. So much has happened in such a short period of time and I haven't even found time to allow myself to take it all in. I just kept going. So today, of all days, one of the busiest of all, my soul couldn't take it anymore and broke.

This is a reminder for me. That I come first too.
How? I have no idea. I can't even find time to go to the bathroom, how am I supposed to find time for myself. I don't even know how to take time to myself. How do you have alone time? What is it? What do I do, exactly?

I have, spoken to all those mother's out there who have a children with additional needs. So I can't say that I haven't been warned about the hard times that will get to me. I just have to keep reminding myself that it will get better. 

I want to take this moment to reflect on everything my family and I have been through. I want to soak it all in. Every joy and hurt that I have just pushed aside. Every bit of stressed that I ignored and told myself, it wasn't real. This is my moment to take it in so tomorrow I can stand tall again and be the best mother I can be. 

For all the mothers who have children with additional needs and myself, who are reading this. I want to tell you that you are Great. You are Strong. You are Wonderful and you have done so much great without even knowing it (because really, when do we have time to look back to see what we have done. We just keep moving forward). 

We are important too. 

We are our children's voices. And to make our voices heard, we need to hear our own first. That voice inside our head that keeps reminding ourselves to take a break, have a coffee, have a walk - because when we come back we will have stronger voices and with those voices we will move mountains. 

Most of all - this is a reminder for me. 

______________________________________________________

Dear Me,

Please read when you are feeling crap. Remember, we don't want this happening again. For everybody's sake.

From Me.

What car now?

So on our journey to become a family of four.. now still a family of 2 and half + ofcourse the one meatball that is in my belly rolling around. We felt the need to look for a new car. What car? One with a big boot.

See the problem is, we have a pram (a VERY. BIG. BEAUTIFUL. BLACK. pram) that can just fit in our boot. (We have a hatchback by the way). Which means no room for shopping or another seat. We also have coming our way, very soon, a stroller. A specialised stroller to fit Mango's needs. Things like head support, back support, leg support and all the other types of support you need when your 14 month old cant even roll around yet. So yeah. What I thought was a 15kg stroller turned out to be a 20kg stroller. My tail bone and back muscles are already aching just as the thought races through my mind. Our current pram is about 11 - 12 kg according to size, folds quite compact. I think. hehehe

So the conclusion was that if we are going to have two babies in a stroller, there is absolutely no way that it will fit in our car unless its on the roof (and that is not an option so don't even start to think why I can't do it myself).

It kinda sad though... you know. It was my first car... well one that I called my own that actually belonged to my husband which I claimed as my own.. uuummm no judging.

This car has been through it all with us.

Speaking of double prams. We need to start looking for a double pram that we can customise one of the seats. The stress that has come along with it, is just about as much stress as wondering if buying a new car is really worth it or not.

So I think an SUV is an option now. An SUV with a BIG boot space. 

I think it's time for me to get off the laptop. I can feel the little meatball kicking at the laptop. Probably a sign that I should be eating or something....

This is me.. the next 10 minutes...

To the me of tomorrow - Mango's 1st

Dear Mama Bear,

Your probably reading this because you know you needed to hear it today. Today, because today is Mango's first birthday. Somehow its a bitter sweet feeling. I understand the pain and joy you ar feeling right now. Well, because I'm you, writing this for today. To let you know that I understand how hard it is to be happy and yet be so sad at the same time. Mango is finally 1! We waited for a long time for this day to come and at the same time we wished this day would never come because of the reality check it would bring to us. I'm here to tell you that it's ok. I'm here to tell you the things we want to hear from our loved ones but they don't really understand our situation enough to tell us these things. 

I can't promise you that it won't hurt. I can't promise you won't cry and I can't promise that the future holds many different days than today. All I can tell you that what ever your feeling is ok. I understand that when you look at Mango would will see a child that has fought for a whole year. He had to fight, a fight that no person should ever have to fight and he had to fight it on his own. I understand that when you look at him to see a 2 to 3 month old child rather than a one year old who should be sitting atleast by now. I understand that it will hurt you to celebrate his one year birthday but wonder why your even celebrating because he kind of isn't really one at all. I can tell you why. We are celebrating not his birthday but his life of 1 year. We are celebrating that he is with us today and remember that not many bubs make it through pregnancy to be with family. We are celebrating his achievements in life and all the things he has accomplished including all the things our doctors told us he would never achieve. We are celebrating that fact that he knows Mama and Daddy. We are celebrating all the support we have had during this full year of therapy appointments, genetics and paediatrician appointments. We are celebrating your sons heart, the fact that it's beating strong refusing to stop. Most of all we are celebrating the fact that you are a family. A family that a bond has grown stronger than most families out there. Today we remember that we are blessed to have such a wonderful child who have changed us as people for the better. A child who has changed the way we see things, say things and do things. We are better people and without him, we would never know what it's like to be the better person we are today. 

You are a mother. A compassionate, caring and loving mother. You have given everything to this day and for that you should be proud. I know its hard and I'm not telling you that you shouldn't be sad. Your allowed to be sad. Noone should tell you that you shouldn't be sad. If you want to cry and laugh at the same time, then go for it. This is not only Mango's day too, this day if celebrating you too. The way he looks at your for reassurance before he does something because he knows you would never let anything happen to him. You are his whole world. You don't remember all the time but I'm here to remind you. 

From Mama Bear

Dear Shopper

Someone shared this with me... It's so sad but so true. Once upon a time I was the shopped (sad to say) but now I'm in different shoes too. 

It is written by a mother who has an autistic son. April is the month of Autism Awareness. Please support them by clicking on the link below. Bringing 'typical' children together with children who have special needs teaches our children to be aware. Involve them in helping. Teach them. Don't be afraid of the unknown. 

http://www.autismawareness.com.au/get_involved

It is these lessons that will define who our children will be in life. To have an open mind and most probably have more knowledge than many other people will. It's lessons of kindness, love, affection and so much more by getting them involved in something so simple. We just have to reach out towards it.

Dear Shopper,
Yes, I know. I’m well aware that my child is screaming. Not just a regular scream, but an ear-piercing, sanity-shattering screech. Even if I wasn’t seeing and hearing it, I would know by the expression on your face.
Clearly, you have raised your children better than me.
That is what you were wanting to say, right? There certainly can’t be any other purpose to you stopping in your tracks to stare or elbow your companion or better yet — give knowing looks to other shoppers passing by.
I have no doubt that you have wonderful, well-behaved children. Grown, tax-paying, law-abiding citizens who would never have dreamed of screaming like this in public when they were children. Judging by your expression and utter exasperation, you’ve never hesitated to let them know who was boss.
And I know that you did your best with your children, that you loved them, and want all children to have a solid upbringing in which to start their lives. You are, in all probability, a good person. You probably don’t mean any harm.
This is what complicates what I want to say to you. Because, despite my anger towards you, I happen to have been raised well too. I don’t want to be ugly, even though right now I feel like it.
Because I know some of that anger is misdirected. It is misdirected because I, too, have stood in judgment of someone like me. I, along with almost everyone, have stood in public and watched a scene like this one play out and thought to myself, “Clearly she has no control over her children. When I have children, mine will never behave like that.” I, like most people, wasn’t quite as obvious about it as you. I didn’t stare or make comments that could be heard. But I was every bit as decided. So, some of my anger is really directed toward Human Nature, who refuses to be put in its place.
The nice thing about human nature, however, is that it can be overridden. And all it takes is but a single experience, a single human interaction, to the contrary of your own strongly held convictions. Then presto whammo — you are a new and hopefully improved person.
Let me introduce you to my child. Like you, I marveled at the miracle of life upon becoming his mother. Like you, I rocked, burped, and inhaled his sweet baby scent and thanked God over and over for the gift of him. Like you, I had certain dreams for my child. There your path and my path diverged somewhat.
My precious child is autistic. Yes, I’ve seen Rain Man, and, no, my son is not likely going to be a great card counter. The truth about autism is that it encompasses a wide spectrum of abilities. And, like you and me, every autistic child who has it is different from the next. Yet they do often share some similar traits – sensory overload and meltdowns are one of them.
Every person on the planet has what I think of as an internal alarm system. Most of us have ours in good working order. But some people with autism have what I like to call a hair-trigger alarm system. Theirs can go off with what seems to average folks like little to no provocation. There IS always provocation. Non-autistic people simply aren’t as sensitive to seeing and hearing the triggers, and that’s when the alarm goes off. And when it does, it’s loud. Everyone in the vicinity wants nothing more than to have it turned off, including the people who love them. When you see me “placating” my child and “giving in” to his tantrum, I’m really just desperately looking around for the alarm key or trying to remember the right code to turn off that blaring alarm. It isn’t his fault. And, no matter how upsetting it is for you, let me assure you it is that much more upsetting for him.
I’m sorry that you haven’t had quite as pleasant of a shopping trip as you had anticipated. It hasn’t been so pleasant for me either. Problem is — I have to feed my family, pick up prescriptions, etc. just like you do. And, unfortunately, no one arrived at my house today to watch my child so that his autistic behavior wouldn’t upset anyone in public. I have to leave the house and so does my child. Because I have to teach him about the world. I have to let him practice controlling his alarm system. So that he, too, can possibly be a productive citizen making come true all those dreams I had for him when he was so small.
With so many advances in early detection and therapy, many of us will be able to see most of those dreams come true for our unique children. And for some of us, our dreams will have to change for our children. We may need to re-define happiness and success. For life is like that. We constantly have to reevaluate our expectations of ourselves, others –and, sometimes, even the grocery store.
I’m hoping that your single human interaction with me has given you an opportunity to be a better person. For, with 1 in 91 children being diagnosed with autism now, you are going to have a lot more opportunities to make a positive impact in the life of someone like me. All it would take would be a smile, a pat on the back, or a “Bless your heart, honey, hang in there” to refill a stressed out parent’s reserve of patience and calm. You could be the bright spot in our day. And, then, if you want, you are welcome to ask all the questions you want. Your curiosity doesn’t offend me in the least. Most of us aren’t the least bit upset to talk about our kids – any more than you are. If anything, it is an opportunity to educate and dispel myths.
And, maybe, just maybe, you will be standing there when the alarm gets turned off. Maybe you will get to see what every mother wants the world to see – the wonderful personality of her child, in our case hidden behind a mask of fear, anger and frustration.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll get to see the one hidden behind yours. ♥

By Flappiness Is