I brought home this perfect little bundle of joy from the hospital 88 months ago. He had ten perfect toes and ten perfect fingers. He had ice blue eyes and natural highlights in his hair that caused quite a commotion at the hospital. He had a smile that lit up any heart.
He is my "#1". I've always called him that. His daddy deployed when he was 4 months old and we were on our own for 18 months. He was it. He was my everything. He is my joy. He is my heart. He makes me smile like no one else can.
I adore his sense of humor. His laugh melts any mood.
From the outside, everything seems perfectly normal.
But sometimes I wonder how many swimming pools could be filled with the number of tears I have cried for him. Some days the new, or better explained, diagnosis seems too much to handle. You would think my tear ducts would dry up. Why can't they? Sometimes I think, "No, this isn't happening. There's going to be a miracle and his brain will start working. It HAS to." Then I look at the piles of workbooks on my desk... cognitive strategies that I have to work with him daily...and know that this is our reality. "Techniques for Brain Injury Rehabilitation" is our reality. Did this "brain injury" come with the perfect fingers and toes at birth? When did this happen? When did my perfect son's seemingly perfect brain stop functioning?
Pouring out my tears and heart to the only One who knows what's going on, each night after my precious son falls asleep, is my reality. The terrifying and sorrowful diagnosis that I received this morning is my reality. His working memory is low. His auditory memory numbers are low. Everything we've worked on. Everything he learned. His reading. His math. It's gone. It's like someone came and wiped out his brain. We took a break for a week and it's vanished. It took my strength and hope with it, and left me with pain and so many, many, many more tears for my child. It's just like what happened when Ray came back from Iraq when Jared was 4. Jared suddenly "forgot" his alphabet. We thought he had a mini-stroke or it was the stress of Ray coming back after a year. Today I found out the answer. He needs a functioning memory to remember things.
Having the answers doesn't always make things better. In fact, this answer has me on my knees, tonight, praying for a miracle.
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? Psalm 13:2a
Saying prayers! I'm here if you need to talk!
ReplyDeleteI'm sitting here trying to type something meaningful. And I keep typing and deleting b/c everything I write falls short.
ReplyDeleteThis reality is quite the blow. Is there comfort in knowing? I don't know. But, never lose hope, Kat!! Remember how Jared had that awesome conversation with your friend at the bday party? As devastating as this new reality is, that day was rewarding in so many ways for you and him. I think that's how this journey is going to be for y'all...a roller coaster of highs and lows. Pace yourself, b/c this is going to be a marathon.
Praying for strength, endurance, and peace.