Samuel is melting down so intensely. I have tried everything I know to calm him. I have rocked, bathed, rocked, sang, rocked, sat, sang, walked, fed, and done it all again. Scott has finally just walked through the door, after a long day, and he has taken over. I can only pace, as I have done all in my power to calm his overstimulation. And, as I pace, I type this blog. And the more I type, the more anger seems to creep. I pray that God calms this within me.
His therapists and doctors get the very best of my baby, and I feel left with just remnants when his day is finished- his hard, schedule-filled, therapy-laden day.
The transition from school to home has been the hardest part for all of us. And, while I feel grateful for his facility and the staff, I am resentful. I used to be the one who got the good, too. Sam is so happy to see me when he is walked out to greet me, but when I put him in his car seat, the dominoes begin to tumble. It lasts until his eyes finally flutter close each night. There is little joy in my sweet one. He is so discontented and has no way of expressing it, other than to cry.
He can’t say he is tired, or that he needs deep pressure, or tell us why he is head banging again. My poor parents receive about a dozen facetime calls, as it is in those minutes that Samuel seems to calm.
I remember my elementary teachers telling our class to use more engaging, descriptive adjectives when we write. There was a list of adjectives that were off limit. “Don’t use this or that word; be more descriptive,” they would say. I even had a list like this for my English students.
But, the only word that replays in my heart to portray my emotions in these hours is sad.
Not grieved or unhappy, or even burdened. I am just sad. Sometimes, even the smallest of words speak the loudest.
thisblandlife 
Thinking of you, again tonight. Hang in there my love!
LikeLike
Love you so much.
LikeLike
Jannan, I see those three precious pictures that are the banner of your blog. As you pour your heart into describing the sadness that ends your day with Sam and the pain that you endure as part of the new normal, concentrate on the sweetness in his little face. Look into his eyes, over and over again, to draw the courage, the strength, and the optimism that will sustain you. Keep remembering this: change is the only constant. In time, this situation you are describing will change, too. In the meantime, feel the prayers that are offered daily for your family.
LikeLike
Mrs. Marilyn, your words are beautiful and so calming. Thank you for this reminder. I just appreciate you so much.
LikeLike