As soon as we get there, our three-year old gets the biggest smile on her face. She jumps around the waiting room. See, she loves people. And she loves when people pay attention to her. So, therapy sessions where everything is one-on-one fits her like a glove.
During her sessions, I sit in the waiting room, right outside of the door to her therapy room. My dad or husband usually goes along with me and we bring our 1 year old and 4 month old to tag along as well. Heck, we call it a family adventure. (Our kids aren't going to know what to do when we go on an actual adventure together haha!) Sitting there allows us to hear all that's going on. We hear the therapist trying to get our three-year old to do something, we hear our three-year old scream 'Yo Gabba Gabba' in a growling voice (for some reason, this is what she screams when she is angry?)... I sometimes cry because I feel bad that she is uncomfortable.. Or scared.. Or frustrated.. Or angry. And some days I hold it together. Our one-year old is typically the protective one, yelling from the waiting room for everyone to leave her sissy alone.
During these sessions, I have a lot of time to think.. And this week was no different.
You see-- my heart just aches some days. I love our three-year old more than you'll ever comprehend... And that's probably why my heart hurts like it does.
I hurt some days because I just don't understand how to not be frustrated.... How to not be confused.. How to shut off my brain and feel with my heart.
Confession time from a mom with a child that was diagnosed with Autism: some days I feel like I can't connect with our three-year old. And it's difficult and challenging.
Our one-year old (she will be '2' in May) can talk your ear off. She will ask for me to turn on doggie ('Mr. Peabody & Sherman') or no-man ('Frozen') and we will cuddle and talk through the movie. She always points at the same things and says the same things, but it's still a lot of fun. We connect. We spend time together.
And some days, that hurts. Because when I try to hang out with our three-year old.. Build Legos or say the alphabet.. She pushes me out of the room or moves her toys to another area. I'll move to where she is and she will push me away.
I love her. I hope she understands that. And I know she loves me because there are days I get a big smile and a soft rub on my arms. But some days, the pain of not communicating with her verbally.. Not sitting down and watching a new movie with her.. Not hearing her little thoughts.. It runs deep.
And some days, through her therapy sessions and doctor appointments, I think about it.
Some will say 'She loves you in her own way' or 'She will speak one day' or 'She has her own way of spending time with you..' And I get that. I do. But that doesn't make the grieving of WANTING to do these things with her any easier.
So, I sit and write these words with tears rolling down my face because some days, I don't want to hear 'the bright side..' Some days, I just want to cry and have someone hear my fears, my worries, my frustrations, my confusion, my guilt, my heavy chest, my grief, my longing.
I know she's perfect. I know she's beautiful. She's precious. She has a big heart. She loves smiling. She loves dancing. She loves when people visit. She hates when people leave. I know all of this.. I know she has a future. I know she will live a flourishing life.
But it doesn't always heal the hurt in my heart. The fear.
Some days are easier than others.. And then some days, like today, I sit with millions of questions.. Worries.. Wonders.
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