Early Christmas Blessings

So much to talk about. So much to write. I feel my head spinning when I think of what I want to talk about. I suppose I'll share the biggest news around here.

Our Christmas was looking a little Charlie Brownish. We have each other, a roof over our heads, love for our Lord, Jesus Christ, and the bills are paid (sort of). It didn't look like we'd get to buy the children presents. We'd already told friends and family not to expect any gifts from us. We are not going to rack up huge credit card bills that we can't afford to pay. Everyone was very kind and understanding.

I only had enough money to spend about $20 on Evan. Not much, but enough for him to have three very small gifts under the tree. I had cleverly hidden Evan's baby toys away many years ago and planned on wrapping three "recycled" gifts for Eliana. (We do three per child because that was the number Jesus received when he was born.)

Then, we had a number of Christmas miracles:

1) Aaron and I each received a check from my step-mom and her husband in birthday cards last week.
2) My great aunt sent a check to be split between the children.
3) My mom sent a check that Aaron and I were to use towards gifts for the children and a birthday celebration for the two of us.
4) My father stopped by unexpectedly and left a card filled with several large bills and two gift cards.
5) My step-mom's husband sent a very large check, part of his inheritance from his father's passing just two months ago, in the hopes of providing a bright Christmas for our family.
6) The women's guild at our church took a collection for gifts for our children and talked to the pastor about writing us a check from the crisis fund.

Can you imagine the joy we felt by the outpouring of gifts? There was a lot of crying, quite a bit of embarassment and shame, and an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude.

We asked the church not to write us a check from the crisis fund because we aren't losing our home and there's food on the table. This is not a "crisis". There are others who would benefit far more from that money. We also told the women's guild about our recent gifts, but they insisted on giving us the donation to spend on ourselves or our children. (Maybe it's my ratty winter coat that moved them...)

We are so truly blessed to have so many care and show love for us. It's very humbling. Aaron and I are beyond words. There's nothing to say.

We bought a few gifts for BOTH children. Nothing outrageous--a few practical toys and outfits. The rest is probably going to go towards bills or tucked away for when we need it again. My guess is that it won't be long.

In the meantime, I have been praising God and praying that others are as blessed as we have been.

Accepting God's Plan

Something's been weighing on my mind. That's my reason for not posting in so long. How to deal with the guilt, the grief, in a private manner before making it public is quite time consuming. I have to sort through my feelings before I can share them or else the things I say come out wrong.

July 2007

Evan is autistic. My son, my precious babe, my first born--he's not like other kids. The gravity of that has been sinking in.

You see, a year ago he started receiving in-home therapy. Evan's county worker assured me that Evan is very high-functioning. Yes, I knew that. She said she would be surprised if he qualified for services for more than a year. When he started services this past January, I suppose I had it in my mind that we'd take the year of services. If Evan made the appropriate amount of progress, he'd be caught up to his peers. If not, we'd still be getting services and continue to work. Sounds reasonable, right?

The reality is that Evan will likely not qualify to continue services and he won't be caught up to his peers. In other terms, he's still autistic but he's not autistic enough. There are other kids who are struggling more than he is.

The weight of this has been sinking in. I suppose I equated Evan not qualifying for services with not being autistic anymore. The truth is, no matter how much he catches up, he is always going to be autistic.

Easter egg dying, 2009

The truth is profound and painful for me.

I know enough about autism to know that the great majority don't "recover". There is no cure. It doesn't go away. My expectations and hopes were above the bar for my son. Reality is so cruel.

Evan's teachers assure me he's doing great. What they mean is that he's not a problem. He doesn't have behaviors at school or that they're very limited. It means they don't have to constantly be on him, that he maintains a certain amount of independence. It doesn't mean that he's not stimming or making friends or playing with other students. That hurts, too.

Mother's Day 2011

Mother's Day 2008

As a teacher and former therapist, I have a picture of what Evan's future looks like. If we stay in this small school district, he'll be fully included in the classroom and likely have an aid. Other students will know him and say things like, "That's just how Evan is." They won't be mean to him and they may even encourage him. But they won't be friends with him. As he gets older, as this year goes on and he ignores their attempts to befriend him, they'll remember and he'll be alone. He might not ever get invited to a birthday party or sleepover. No one will want to work in a group with him for a class assignment because he'll hold them back, and he'll get grouped with lower functioning students. This knowledge strikes a chord of such grief that I literally ache in my chest for him. Evan is shy and has trouble interacting but it doesn't mean he doesn't want to be included at a birthday party or with his peers. He's just scared.

The pain knocks the wind out of me. I've begged, pleaded, prayed. "Please, God, please!" What am I asking for? I'm not even sure.
In the middle of all my pain, my pleading and praying, the Lord spoke to me. He gently whispered, "You can't fix what I have made."
"I know," I answered.
"What I have made, I have made perfectly," He said.
And that's where we've left the conversation. It doesn't matter how much I hurt for my son or what I say or do, the Lord made him and made him perfectly. The Lord has a plan for me and my son.

Summer 2010

What I've taken from that conversation is that I need to love and accept Evan, autistic or  not. I can't spend my life grieving and resisting. After all, how presumptuous am I to question our Divine Maker and His plan? It doesn't mean that I can or should stop trying to mold my son into a loving, gentle, contributing member of society. It just means that Evan isn't going to be like his peers. I need to let go of that thought or hope and obediently submit to the Lord's plan and will.

Summer 2010

I'm working on it.

To Induce or Not to Induce?

Here I am, four days past my due date. And it seems like everyone and their mother is asking, "So when is that baby coming?" It's getting harder for me to be good-natured with my response. After all, I don't like being pregnant. I'm not particularly good with babies--I'm certified to teach 6th through 12th grade, if that's any indication. And my anxiety level is through the roof! I'm talking insomnia, constant pacing, an unbelievable amount of baking, and clean, clean, clean!

I saw my doctor last Friday, and as far as baby is concerned, everything looks okay. S/he has a nice strong heartbeat, good fetal movement, and no indication of my placenta going bad. My cervix, on the other hand, is being less than cooperative. I really wasn't surprised by that because 1) my son was ten days late and my cervix was just as uncooperative and 2) they measured my cervix and 26 weeks via ultrasound and it's 7 cm long--the longest my doctor says he's ever measured. Then he dropped the "i" bomb. You know... induction.

At first I was relieved! I would get to pick my baby's birthday, arrange ahead of time for care for my son instead of just sending him to one of the three possibilities we had lined up, pack everything I wanted or needed to have instead of the items that I'm not going to miss, and make sure the house is in order before we leave. My doctor, as it happens, is leaving for a mission trip after today and he even said I could pick the doctor I wanted to perform my induction.

Then I started to think, "This doesn't feel right." I have the same doctor for this polka dot that I did with Evan. He let Evan go ten days late and wouldn't even discuss induction. What's changed? I don't like the thought of inducing because, to me, there is a certain amount of shame in it. Induction is not a natural birth. I had Evan naturally, and I'm glad I did. I have this vision of myself strapped to a bed with a Pitocin drip screaming for an epidural because movement is limited with an induction; induction is also said to be a generally harder and longer labor. Everyone I've talked to who has had an induction has had a pretty bad experience. Everyone is going to know I'm being induced which increases that whole friends-and-family-waiting-around-and-sending-texts-or-phone-calls-to-see-how-things-are-going thing. And did I mention I just really don't feel like it's the right thing to do?

Let me try to explain why I don't feel good about the induction. I don't know if you ever read or watch Joyce Meyer, but I love her. (She has a tv and radio program of her Christian ministry called "Enjoying Every Day Life" which has really made a difference in my life.) I've been slowly working my way through her book Enjoying Where You Are on the Way to Where You're Going. I've literally been working on this book since April. (It takes me a long time not because it's difficult but because I journal after every one or two pages about what she's saying or what I'm getting out of the reading.) I'm finally towards the end of the book and suddenly there is a section about waiting, and as it happens, she discusses how each of her four children were late and she felt that God was trying to teach her to be patient while she waited for the birth of each of her children. Coincidence? Or divine intervention? Because I've been a real hag through this whole pregnancy. I've hated my pregnancies more than what I would consider normal. (You all get to read the edited version. =) )

I pray a lot. I usually pray throughout the day. Sometimes it's a quick, "Hey, thanks, God! I really needed that kind comment from that kind person you've put in my life!" Sometimes it's an hour long discussion of me asking for the comfort and uplifting of people I know and love or sometimes even strangers. Well, I've been praying about this all weekend. "Lord, do I have the induction?" And I keep hearing, "Wait."

So. What do I do? The induction is scheduled. I see my doctor one last time today before he leaves for South America. I can ask about my options and hope that he'll discuss them with me. I need to know why we are doing an induction. I want to do what feels right and what God wants me to do.