Sometimes the road we walk is harder than we ever imagined it would be. And there is no map.
I’ve written about the struggles we have had with our son, but this time is different.
It’s bigger and scarier than it has ever been before. It is a dangerous nightmare and my mind feels foggy like maybe it is a dream. Except it’s not. It’s far too real.
No parent ever imagines getting that phone call from the school. The one that starts with words like “mobile crisis unit” and “psychotic break” ends in a string of other calls and meetings with professionals.
No one wants to hear all of the pastors and pediatricians and therapists say, “I’m so sorry, but this is out of my league.”
“This is very, very serious.”
“You need to find a child psychiatrist. Quickly.”
Nobody wants to sit up at night with her husband and discuss whether or not to tell people about the fact that their seven-year-old decided to punish himself for being off-task in the classroom by trying to remove his own arm. Or that before that even happened she took him back to counseling because he was saying things like, “What would happen if I cut my head off?” and “When I was a baby bad people wanted to murder me.” or that there are spies and secret agents watching him.
Nobody wants to sneak into the room with the tooth fairy money and simultaneously scan the room for sharp objects.
Nobody wants to wonder if the diagnosis and medication that could help a little boy may also scare away future girlfriends or even current friends.
How much can one little boy take before he breaks?
Failure to thrive. Homelessness. Foster care. Adoption. 3 different families. 3 different states. 7 different houses. Reactive Attachment. Autism Spectrum. And now…
Words his mother, the writer, cannot even write because the stigma attached to them is too heavy.
How do you numb yourself enough to call the health care provider and answer the questions about whether or not your kindergartener is currently in a state of psychosis?
How can the sweet little freckled face that has never even seen a PG-13 movie form such violent thoughts?
What happens in the not-so-distant future when he is bigger and stronger than his mother?
I have no answers.
All I have is an amazing team of people willing to help, even if they don’t have all the answers either, and a doctor’s appointment two months in the future.
We also have each other.
And we have a God who is bigger than any of it. A God who saw a rough road ahead and plucked that baby right out of a homeless shelter in Tampa dropped him into our laps, and said, “Help him.”
So we will.
It will not be easy and I do not pretend to know what I am doing.
But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I mother a boy with resilience and a spirit of contagious energy that is far beyond any kind of human understanding. A boy who will grow into a man who will do great things.
His road is hard so that his testimony will be powerful.
He was born to a different mother on 3/16.
“For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten son so that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.” John 3:16.
My God knows a thing or two about watching your son suffer.
But there is always The Light at the end of the tunnel.
Besides, Nicholas has never minded roads. Tunnels either, for that matter.
And parents, I know you’ll want to read this post, too.