Here I sit. It is 8:05 am on Sunday morning. I want to be at church, which started five minutes ago but I can't. My sitter for Michael, who is wonderful, forgot to tell me she is out-of-state right now. I spent 25 minutes looking out of the kitchen window, waiting, waiting...I get to sing in our praise band at church and enjoy it so much. Do I sing that well? No! I just love the people in our band and they are tolerant enough to let me hang out with them. So, on the Sunday before Christmas, here I am, sitting on my bed, fighting back tears, and wondering why. Just why. I have never asked God why Michael has autism or why we as parents get to go on this bumpy ride. But I have asked God why He is making it so hard for me to worship with my church family. On the Sundays I don't sing, Michael goes with me. He has lasted anywhere from two minutes (yes, two) to almost forty-five minutes of the service. I would keep him longer but he talks pretty much non-stop. That is just a quirk of autism for some kids. He is usually saying random things like repeating Spongebob dialogue or his own ramblings about nothing and I don't want it to disturb the people around us so we leave. I know, whine, whine but most of the people I know get to go to church, go to a restaurant or anywhere without fear of their child having a melt-down or running. (Yes, I know toddlers do that but my child is eleven. By the time your children are eleven, they will be making friends, talking on the phone and planning a future, you know, normal things in childhood. My child is not doing any of those things.)
Sorry. I try to hold it together and most of the time, I am SO grateful for the progress. I AM grateful but I get selfish sometimes. I want to be able to go somewhere without worrying and that will NEVER happen. OK! Pity party (almost) over. Maybe I should just cry and get it over with. I have another chance to attend church this week. On Christmas Eve, our church is having two services-one at 5 pm and one at 11 pm. Surely I can get to one of those. I want to take Michael to the early service but we will see.
Yeah, a good cry sounds pretty good right now. I will write a more positive post later but the name of this blog is PPD-Nos Lifestyle and this is just a small part of it.
Tomorrow will be a better day.
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I do ask why a lot and I know I shouldn't. The frustration of wondering why me, why us, why Thomas is almost more than I can take. This time of year seems to throw it in our face as well. Hang in there, dear. There *has* to be a reason why we were chosen to be the parents of these children. There just has to be.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Carolina. Some days are better than others, as you well know. I am sorry you are walking this walk but I am grateful someone understands.
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