It’s 8:33pm, and our oldest daughters are patiently waiting for a ride downtown for a sense of normalcy. They would like to go see some celebratory fourth of July fireworks. Fine, right? In any other family, on any given Sunday, sure. Not here. This is the crazy house. My hands are shaking, and my fingertips are mistyping as I am getting these thoughts out. My ex-husband is administering night time meds to our almost 6 year old son who has surpassed all the odds, and survived a bone marrow transplant. His night time regimen includes melatonin, benadryl, and clonazepam. He also wears a clonidine patch on his back. One would think that should be enough to knock out an adult, but surely not my 60 pound almost 6 year old. Speaking of clonazepam, when will mine kick in? These shaky hands of mine need to chill.
Lucas just walked in because he can’t be alone downstairs. My husband just drove our daughters to go see those fireworks. My thoughts are jumbled. Lucas brought up a water, and two straws. He desperately wants to help me feed Harrison, who I’ve decided to wean from nursing… Today. In my world everything happens at once. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Linzy’s Law, I call it. There is chicken in the oven, and it’s the hottest day of the year here in northeast Connecticut. Who’s gonna take the chicken out? Nobody is around, and there is nobody to eat it at the moment. Yes today was the last date for the chicken to be cooked, but wouldn’t it have been okay tomorrow?
Back to weaning this little guy. Why today? He took up a new habit of biting my nipples while he nurses, and then with the biting he tugs as well. Today I almost bled, and that was it for me. I nursed Lucas for four long years. Some say that’s why he’s a Mama’s boy. I disagree, as we just had an incredible bond. Lucas has finally been diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder – Level 2, ADHD, and DMDD. His neuropsychological evaluation was done in May. Fighting for four years for a diagnosis was hell. I’ve known since Lucas was just over a year that something wasn’t right with him developmentally. I wish you could hear the things he’s saying to me right now as I am trying to type this out. Apparently he wants to duct tape me to the bottom of an ocean so I can stop breathing. It just never ends. The screaming, biting, swearing, morbid scenarios, scratching, screaming… Did I say screaming? Meltdowns over everything. I didn’t sign up for this.
He’s my son, and I love him dearly. I love all of my four beautiful children, but I am stressed to the max. I’ve recently been diagnosed with panic disorder, PTSD, and depression. I’ve never been a sad person, so that’s hard to hear. Lucas is now sorry for saying mean things to the baby and me. Now he wants to cuddle. Harrison actually drank two ounces of formula for his dad earlier, and is now chowing down on some apples and sweet potatoes. I surely hope weaning him will work out. I’m done being bit. I’d also like to sleep at night in my bed with my husband without a child sized baby sleeping horizontally between the two of us causing our bodies to cascade over the edge of our queen size bed. My marriage needs saving, so our baby needs his own space.
Not to get too personal, but I’ve read that 80% of marriages don’t survive when there’s children with special needs in the home. I also read that statistic has been debunked. Either way, my son is hard to live with. Right now he is pretending to be a scary clown, and his fingers are in my face, as he is pretending to pinch my eyes out of my skull. He’s having a hard time explaining the differences of the two clown looks from the old IT movie, and the newer one. He’s also pacing back and forth in front of my laptop table, and the highchair. Just to give you a visual, take a peek below.
I know it’s not the greatest photo, but you get what I’m dealing with right? He was bouncing up and down, pinching his fingers quoting IT. Now he’s sitting behind me with his iPad listening to THE most annoying songs about dying muffins? I can’t even. Have I ever explained to you that I don’t deal well in heat and humidity? Well I also don’t deal well with multiple sounds. I get bad migraines. The TV is on, the iPad is on, Lucas is talking, and Harrison is demanding the rest of his food. Luckily, my medicine is starting to kick in which is nice. The girls are hopefully having fun at the fireworks. My youngest daughter is with her dad in the master bedroom, as she now sleeps with him. Lucas got an awesome room makeover by Blueprints of Love, but he still won’t sleep alone. Once he falls asleep, we can transfer him to his bed. That’s what I’m waiting for.
Now I’m trying to remember why I started this blog, and what I wanted to say? I knew it was a murphy’s law kind of moment, but things are starting to wind down now. Which is great, but why did I lose my thought? Oh I know! Because kids eat their mom’s brains. I’m just totally convinced of that. Weaning… Right! I’m an extended breastfeeding kind of mom, and I’m half crunchy. Doula training has taught me that as long as we are feeding our babies, we are doing well. That, I am doing. I can only hope that cutting Mr. H off cold turkey was a good decision. Because I can’t go back now. I’m doing this. If we can survive THE hardest 9 months of life that most people should never have to deal with, then we can do this as well. Isolation has been SO hard. We are almost at the end of it, and that is music to my ears.
Honestly? I would take a bone marrow transplant over pediatric mental health issues any day of the week. My son is the greatest challenge that ever there was. We don’t know what will happen in the future. We recently had a PPT, but I’ll save that for another blog of it’s own. Too much to start here. The calm vibes I’m beginning to feel, I need to savor for my first night of not nursing this beautiful baby of mine. I will surely report back tomorrow to let you all know how this Mommy led weaning turns out. My heart palpitations are weakening, and my hands are no longer trembling. I’ve got this.
I Am An Autism Mom.