Diagnosis

   So we met with Landon's psychologist yesterday to get his diagnosis, and it was what we were thinking, that he has high functioning autism. It wasn't really a shock, but it was still difficult to hear. I guess no one wants to hear there is something wrong with their child, something they can't fix for them. I was hoping deep down they would tell me I was wrong, although I knew in my heart I wasn't. It is weird; I had fought for this so much, argued with people about it who thought I was wrong and crazy for even thinking it, which exasperated me because who knows my kid better then me? 

   But anyhow, I have been on such a long emotional roller coaster with this since the beginning. From being on my own and realizing there was something wrong with him and figuring it was up to me to find it and when I did finding a solution to get him to the doctor. So I dealt with the nosy Medicaid people and hoped we qualified which we did. Then having to sit and play dumb to our pediatrician who is a great doctor, but if I went in there and told him what I thought was wrong he wouldn't have heard anything but me trying to diagnose my kid and that wouldn't have been helpful to Landon, because he wouldn't have listened after that point. So I let him think he was telling me something I didn't already know to make him feel better, which normally would infuriate me but I played the game, because there is nothing I wouldn't do for this kid. Then weeks and weeks of waiting around for more appointments, testing, paperwork, mountains of it, not to mention trying to keep a normal, day to day life going for my kids and the rest of my family, even though some days when thinking about things all I wanted to do was stay in bed under my covers and cry all day. But I did it and now we are here. And I have to say, I am proud of myself. I am proud of what I have done for him, and that one day he can look back and say "wow, my mom loves me so much that she did all that." Because I don't provide anything for them. I don't work, so I am not putting food on the table, or buying them clothes, or keeping a roof over their head, their dad does all of that. And while I do the day to day stuff, it is all with stuff that I didn't provide. This is something I have done for him that no one else did. Because no one will ever love him as much as I do. But I know the fight isn't over; but a part of it is, and that makes me feel a little better.

   But I have to say, I hate this. I hate that he has this and that we are having to go through this. I don't want him to ever feel stupid or like an outsider in his own life. I want him to be happy and feel self confidence and self worth. Kids have it sooo hard already, being even more different will affect him and shape who he becomes for the rest of his life. I don't want someone chipping away at him bit by bit until he hates going to school or work. I am so afraid for him and feel so angry that this is happening to him and to us... he is so wonderful. I have never met a boy who is so sweet. And we are good people, we always do right by our kids. It is just not fair. But I of all people should know that life is not fair, I was just hoping my luck with life would not affect my kids. Oh well. 

   I will try to stay positive and just keep doing what I have been doing. We have lucked out at least with all the people involved with helping him, they really seem to care about what happens to him. I am grateful to all of them and to everyone who offers their support even though they don't know how to help or what to say. Well, that's it for now!