He runs to make his mind still, to organize himself and to get rid of the noise from this loud, confusing world. The more he's moved, the more he's introduced patterns and rhythm into his routine. Laps around the house are a daily ritual. He's made it more complex as he's developed, but the basics are the same. There is a pattern of movement -- specific foot patterns based on whatever song or chant he chooses to accompany the run, and he can not be stopped until he is ready to be.

This is James, and this is our story.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

The Pit in my Stomach

Sometimes I can't believe that I'm the one who is entrusted with advocating for my child.   Me.  The one who can not engage in a debate, about anything,  because I get flustered when I'm put on the spot or feel judged. 

I'm still not even sure how I convinced my husband to agree to marry me, although I know kidnapping him to a secluded cottage in the Blue Mountains of Australia and providing beer definitely helped.

All this and beer?  Who could say no?

Somehow,  I've managed to help people in my life understand what James needs in order to thrive.  I'm lucky that 99% of the people involved agree with me, or I don't think we would have gotten this far. 

Then there is that other 1%.  The one that I can not find the strength to stand up to and defend my position of what my son needs.  You know the one.  I wrote about him in  He Just Looked At Me. He Doesn't Have Autism. 

I got so much support from your responses after that post.  Many suggested I send the post to him to read (which I did. In my mind).  A few of you had incredibly humorous ideas of how I should respond, and I thank you for providing all manners of potential vindication for my imagination.

Here's the thing.  I have to go see him tomorrow.  Again. 

Tony and I agreed that he would deal with the next appointment while I looked for a new doctor, but James' recent behavior has me concerned enough about the medicine that I need to go.  Tomorrow. 

I'm trying to find the strength, but I'm already flustered just thinking about it, and this pit in my stomach just makes me want to cancel the appointment and hide out in my house.  And although that is how I often deal with my own issues, I can't do that to James.

He is depending on me, and I have been entrusted to be his advocate.

So, tomorrow morning, I'll be back in that small, stifling office, uncomfortable as hell.  But I'll have the copy of that post in my bag. 

Just by having that with me, I will feel like all of you are standing by my side, and that pit in my stomach might just go away so I can help the doctor understand what James needs to thrive.

And if it still doesn't go away, I'll just think of all those other ideas you had...


Alysia said...

It will be better this time. Think of how different you are now...this amazing advocate for James...for both your boys, whether you believe it or not.
I'm home all day...if you start to get upset or flustered, excuse yourself for a moment, send me a text, and we'll crack heads together. Figuratively of course :)
You can do this.

krismac said...

Thanks Alysia! I do feel stronger this time, at least I'm prepared for it, and I know I have you getting my back :)