This is purely anecdotal.
Trevor had a horrible, rotten, no good day yesterday.
It started with a 2am waking and coming to "the big bed" because he felt sick. Thankfully he slept until the morning.
ABA was a nightmare and the rest of the day wasn't much better. We pushed through and completed mommy school. Then tried to attend a local free karate class. We've been trying it out to see if karate could be a good fit for him. Yesterday we had to leave early. He was freaking out that it was "too loud". Covering his ears and curled in a fetal ball at my feet. I'd managed to tackle him before he bolted right out the door. The class wasn't even loud.
All day long, I carried a pit in my stomach. A seizure mom pit. Something was off. It's a strange and heavy burden to carry. Wondering if your child's brain is being assaulted from within but having little to no tangible external evidence. Not everyone considers "behavior" evidence of neurological activity. And to be completely honest, I didn't know either. I only knew that deep within I felt unsettled and heart sick.
Thankfully today has been a joyful opposite. He did WONDERFUL in his ABA and worked happily during mommy school. We just wrapped up, actually. He reminded me that I'd forgotten to have him write the date on the calendar.
I felt my stomach clench when I noticed the marked difference between his penmanship today versus yesterday. (all the other numbers seen were written by me)
Yesterday's number is too large and extremely shaky. It's clear he was struggling to write.
Whereas today's number is tidy and beautiful.
Yesterday my seizure mom heart was unsettled. Today, it was at peace and joyful.
Yes, it's anecdotal.
But the longer I walk this journey beside him, the more meaningful anecdotal evidence has become.