When you are watching your child not really getting any better, and no one is really helping, a part of you feels like it is dying. You are kind of watching your hopes and dreams disappear. It is a hard thing to come to terms with.
I remember telling the doctor what was happening and him saying, “And you get Autism from this? Doubtful.” My children were growing up. When we went in grocery stores, their shoes and socks flew across the stores. We now know this is a sensory issue and it is not uncommon. They were still not potty training. They did not get it. They would rock back and forth and laugh to each other, and not even respond to me. They still do this, by the way. I would have to take them, screaming, out of stores. The funny thing is, it was never over something they could not have. It was always random. Yes, sensory issues.
They were becoming the age where they needed to be enrolled in school, and they were still not using a toilet. I knew I had to get something done, fast. I took them to a new doctor who made the astute observation that milestones had been missed. This was his diagnosis. I was astounded as my son had another accident in his pants during our visit.
I remember the doctor wanting blood work from one of my boys and I took him to get it done. He hid under my chair, which is actually called “denning” and a complete stranger says to him, “If you are not good and do not sit in your chair, mama’s not going to get you any McDonalds.” This woman had never met me. My child was not misbehaving, and frankly, it was none of her business. McDonald’s?
KNOWING that we had missed our milestones, and KNOWING we needed to be enrolled in a public school with 2 children still unable to control themselves as far as bathroom issues go, I took my kids to the school to talk. What I was basically told was they needed a diagnosis to help the kids. I do not believe this to be true, but this is where the first time I decided to homeschool came in. I saw absolutely no reason to humiliate my children because they still did not get the bathroom thing.
Now, I am not even going to pretend that I did not make mistakes along the way. I made a ton of mistakes. I own that. I was trying, though.
I decided on yet another doctor. She was kind of an odd woman. I cannot say I trusted this woman, but I took a chance. She looked at Matt and said, “This child can’t sit still.” I replied that we had waited 45 minutes. She said something about him not talking much. Then, this woman, a health professional, stated my child had ADHD and needed medicine for it and he would be talking in 6 weeks. I got our stuff, said thank you, and left.
Maybe I should have tried harder. Maybe I should have found more people willing to help. At this time, though, my decision was to homeschool and to pretty much try to fix the problems on our own. The community had failed me, the medical and educational parts of it, at least, and I was really just ready to give up.
And I did give up.
That is when CPS came in and our lives changed for the better.
In the archives is the story of how CPS came in and why.
Nosey neighbors and their hatefulness actually finally gave us hope.
The story does not end here. So far, we are 5 or 6 years in. It gets better.
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