I need more of me. Not other people to do things for me — more of me. Today, I mentioned to Bo’s PT that Scott would be off the week of Thanksgiving and would be at Bo’s therapy sessions that week. She was really pleased to hear that and asked what I would be doing that day. I was confused at first and she suggested a spa day, some shopping, etc. I told her I’d be there with Scott. I would certainly not complain about a spa day or some carefree shopping excursion at any given time; but not in lieu of attending a therapy session.
I’m not looking to “get out of” going to any of Bo’s sessions. I love watching him performing new feats of strength, growing stronger, getting better at different things – large and small. Today, Bo responded to the greeting of another therapist at his rehab facility by raising his left arm, squeezing his fingers together, and busting out with something between an “Ah” and “Aye” sound (which all three of us present decided immediately was a definitive “Hi” with a wave)… You couldn’t bribe me with enough mani-pedis, massages, or shopping sprees to miss that.
I look at those therapy sessions with Bo and Scott the same way. As I told his therapist this afternoon, this is an amazing opportunity to experience Bo’s therapy with Scott. To watch him watching our son. Wouldn’t miss it. Couldn’t miss it. Don’t miss the other stuff I’m missing…
But now things might change for us.
Long story short, PJ has been showing some behaviors that have led her preschool teachers, her Speech Therapist, and us; to believe there is a decent chance that she has some level of Sensory Integration or Processing Disorder(s). Scott, our nanny, and I, all had to separately take the same questionnaire regarding PJ’s likes, dislikes, reactions, quirks, etc. and the results were a bit alarming… Considered separately, each little quirk or sign can be tossed aside or excused, but when forced to list them all together, it becomes clear that there is something…different.
I was just starting to figure out how to mother a child like Bo. I was starting to feel like maybe, just maybe I’d be able to pull through this and feel like a normal person, a good mother, a loving wife. Not just the harried, stressed, overly-emotional mess I’ve felt like for the past nine months.
Hello, Square One – yes, it’s me. Nice to see you again. How’ve you been? It’s been so long… How have the past two weeks treated you? Seems like it’s been three.
How the hell am I going to do this with both of them? How many more hours of worrying, appointments, therapies for them, worrying, sleepless nights, therapy for me, worrying, stressing, worrying, more worrying, freaking out about the future, freaking out about the next half-hour, worrying, worrying, worrying……..can I stand?
Can I do this? I thought we were all squared away with this — Bo had a stroke. He has Hemipereisis. He has Cerebral Palsy. His future is unknown. We’re those people that we read about before he was born and shook our head slowly with empathy for those poor, poor people and their sick baby. Then we looked at our beautiful, perfect, vibrant PJ and thanked G-d we were so lucky we weren’t those people.
When I was pregnant with Bo, I told Scott that I had a horrible premonition that something was going to happen to PJ. I just felt like things were going too well for us – things were too perfect. Once Bo was born a few months later, I attributed all of those maternal feelings to being merely misguided in direction, but accurate in their tragic outcome. Was I wrong? Are all of these things still going to come to pass for PJ now too?
Where will I find the strength to go, and do, and feel, and mother, and worry, and love as much as they both need and they both deserve?
Why. Is. This. Happening?