I've been asking advice from friends I've made along this crazy journey. Friends whom I've grown to trust over time.
I found an email this morning from one such friend.
Her words (I'll be pasting and italicizing along the way) hit me upside the head. Which...ironically...happens to be the best way for truths to sink in. For me.
::smile::
I had emailed her asking for advice. And venting a bit. That it feels like the heaviest decision is my own. The neurologists (even those I adore) commit to nothing. There is no guidance on placement from them. Integrated vs. Inclusive. They will not say. When asked what Trevy's future will be. They squirm and sidestep with finesse.
After your most uncommon surgical journey (one reason the surgeons won’t predict much) you are now on a very common and well-beaten path of EI to special education. Many will try to hold your hand – as I have. You will decide who you trust, instinctively or with the careful thought process you used for choosing surgery. – Which leads me to think you will continue to make careful decisions.
And it has all been feeling very heavy.
Like Trevy's future somehow rests entirely on my shoulders.
I believe some of the stress of these decisions is based in efforts to get a particular future, fear of getting less than one could.
Like if I make the wrong choice...I will somehow alter the direction of his life.
I forgot.
That it was never really mine to begin with.
Whether he attends a self-contained class or integrated, now and in the beginning, might not matter so much in Trevy’s eventual learning.
I forgot that I believe what I say.
Because if it isn’t working, you will change it. God made you the mother you are. Gave you Trevy.
That we're here. In this moment. All moments before Leading here. Not because of my control. But because it has already been Written.
My wealth of life experience and education is mine because God gave it to me, knew me before I was born. That’s what I believe. And live.
I believe it too.
Deeply.
Now...
::big breath::
to live it...
I found an email this morning from one such friend.
Her words (I'll be pasting and italicizing along the way) hit me upside the head. Which...ironically...happens to be the best way for truths to sink in. For me.
::smile::
I had emailed her asking for advice. And venting a bit. That it feels like the heaviest decision is my own. The neurologists (even those I adore) commit to nothing. There is no guidance on placement from them. Integrated vs. Inclusive. They will not say. When asked what Trevy's future will be. They squirm and sidestep with finesse.
After your most uncommon surgical journey (one reason the surgeons won’t predict much) you are now on a very common and well-beaten path of EI to special education. Many will try to hold your hand – as I have. You will decide who you trust, instinctively or with the careful thought process you used for choosing surgery. – Which leads me to think you will continue to make careful decisions.
And it has all been feeling very heavy.
Like Trevy's future somehow rests entirely on my shoulders.
I believe some of the stress of these decisions is based in efforts to get a particular future, fear of getting less than one could.
Like if I make the wrong choice...I will somehow alter the direction of his life.
I forgot.
That it was never really mine to begin with.
Whether he attends a self-contained class or integrated, now and in the beginning, might not matter so much in Trevy’s eventual learning.
I forgot that I believe what I say.
Because if it isn’t working, you will change it. God made you the mother you are. Gave you Trevy.
That we're here. In this moment. All moments before Leading here. Not because of my control. But because it has already been Written.
My wealth of life experience and education is mine because God gave it to me, knew me before I was born. That’s what I believe. And live.
I believe it too.
Deeply.
Now...
::big breath::
to live it...
Comments
...sounds as if we both need to let go, trust God, and stop trying to carry the weight of what seems like unbearable decisions....altho mine has been made, I am just worried of the repercussions, even tho I feel like God has clearly shown me the path to take!
Yes, we can make the wrong choices, but He can deliver us, and our choices,and our boys...it is not up to us to make the right decisions as we quake in fear, white knuckled...but rather to simply choose God,let go and then trust.
(I know, I too need to take my own advice too, ughhhh!)
thoughts and prayers are with you sweetie!
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, lean not on your own understanding; but His, in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your path straight"
proverbs 3:5-6
~Miranda's mom
And if you do indeed find whatever initial class isn't working, you have the freedom of trying the other direction to see if that is better for his learning.
Your children couldn't have asked for a better mom, and God couldn't have asked for a better mother for His children.
1) Didn't go to the ER when she was puking up a storm even though it seemed weird. It was seizures.
2) Believed the doctor when she said it was just a tummy bug.
3) Believed the doctor the second time she said it was a tummy bug.
4) Didn't scream loud enough three months into the tummy bug.
5) Told EI that I didn't think she was delayed but that she just wasn't getting enough awake time because of the tummy bugs.
But for all of the wrong choices, I have made some great choices. And I have constantly changed direction when I saw it was a wrong choice.
We do our best and hope or pray or both that it is good enough.
There are many different grades of "special". Some of the kids are there because they couldn't hear and got tubes in their ears. Some are there for autism. Some are there for Downs syndrome. Some are there because they did not develop due to abuse or neglect. Somehow or other, their strengths will bring out the best in each other. They have a lot to learn from one another. "Normal" is not the only role model. There are a lot of "normal" kids you would not want Trevy learning from.
It is hard, and I have questioned myself a lot but I have fought and fought and fought for what I feel is best for my little man.
You are a Mom, you will do the same.
Sometimes it is trial and error, but you know your boy....
It WILL be OK....
Cyndi