That little ache

My darling baby boy is tucked up in his bed, fast asleep. Dreaming, i hope, of whatever fills his heart with happiness. I just wish that tomorrow morning he could tell me what it was that colored his dreams the night before. I'd go and sit on his bed and watch him sleep, but I fear my tears wouldn't be silent enough not to disturb his slumber.

I don't know how mothers of ill children go on. Gregory's disease isn't life threatening, it's not going to make him sick, yet it puts a squeeze on my heart that doesn't ever let up...and sometimes gets so tight i can't breathe.

1 out of 164 children are being diagnosed with autism. That's a frighteningly huge number. And my oldest falls in that group. Don't know how severely yet, because most of the time he's just another rambunctious 3.5 year old.

But then the reminders are there. When you ask him a question and he doesn't answer. Or can't answer? I never know. When you get excited for him for an event, a toy, a special day...and he doesn't seem to understand it or talk about it. And mostly when you realize that there really is something going on in his brain. It's not behavioral, it's neurological. There literally is something not "right" in his brain. And they can't fix it. We can only do our best in the home, medical, and educational areas of his life to teach him to manage his disease and live within it.

So today I find out that he is academically above the curve. I always knew he was smart, but to hear it from a teacher who specializes in autism...that was a big plus. Socially he's not really progressing, and that will be what keeps him from starting school on time with his peers. But he has quite a while before K, so I'm not worrying over it yet.

I also find out that he may be having seizures. "Petit Mal" seizures, or "absent" seizures. I read about them and while I'm not fully sure that's what they are, I'm scared nonetheless. They don't seem to be damaging, nor can they often be detected or cause determined, but they scare me anyway. It tells me something is going wrong in there...in his little brain...and I CAN'T STOP THEM.

*Sigh* I'm on a horrid spiral lately anyway. It's a bad time to be analyzing this stuff. There's so much I want for him, and while I DO KNOW that most if it is attainable, my heart hurts so much for him. I hold him sometimes and whisper to him, and kiss his head and pray so hard my head hurts. I think to myself, 'maybe I can love it away' knowing full well I can't. I want to go upstairs right now and gather him in my arms, and shut out the whole cold world. Keep him safe in the place he loves most...the place he goes to when he's anxious or stressed and says to me, 'hug you?' I want every person on the planet to see his spirit and feel the same protection I do, protection that will keep evil away from his pure soul. I pray with nearly every breath that his life will be full and happy. I pray that the world isn't cruel to him. I pray that if he can't do everything he needs to on his own, that I'll be around long enough to help him, and to raise his brother and sister to know that they are to be there for him too...and there for each other. That is family, it's what you do.

But I won't disturb his sleep. I'll sit here in the dark tonight and watch reruns of some show I don't even care for, just to hide the sounds of my sobs and nose blowing. That's how you cope with something like this, because it's not dire enough to cry out in public. People would tell you to suck it up, it's not that bad. This is something you cry about at night, alone with God, because he will always let you be as broken hearted as you want over the little things that hurt your children.

And tomorrow will be another day I smile for my Gregory and continue to thrive on the hopes and dreams for his future, just like Nicky's and Sofia's. They're all my babies. And all I have.