Round 4

Tucking my little man into bed tonight, I knew there was a boogie monster in the closet waiting to pounce. Rowen had a pretty good day today, but I knew the mention of his fear about school a time or two would pummel him at some point. I managed to get him in bed and read Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs to him before the tears sprouted from his eyes. His face turned red, the tears fell, and he started begging to stay home from school the next day. He worries so much about everything school related and especially lunch time and whether his friends will sit with him. Brenner and I quickly scrambled to comfort him. I think it worked -for now- but there's never a shortage of prayers needed to help him through the anxiety.

It's been a pretty rough week, I have to admit. We are weaning medication #3 (if you include the vitamin regimen) and looking ahead to the next. I really hate this. Our options are running short, and the big boys are staring us in the face. Medicines like stimulants, anxiolytics, and antipsychotics are next on the list. The most recent medicine he took just didn't do the trick, putting his blood pressure readings as low as 80/50 and making us crazy at home. Very crazy at home. I know the docs say that is normal, but something in my mommy gut tells me this is not ok. On to round 4...

I was sitting in church last night watching a young girl sing on stage with her mother looking on with pride in the front row. I was marveling at how well she sang, but also at the courage it took to be on that stage in front of so many people. I thought to myself, Rowen will never do that, with tears stinging my eyes. But as quickly as that thought came to mind, another voice stifled it. There are times when we want to hear God and then there are times where we know we hear God. This was one of those time. Just as I finished my self-defeating thought, I heard "Rowen will do other great things." The tears still came, but they stopped coming in the form of self-defeat and instead, of pride.

So he doesn't have to sing on stage to let me know that he is going to be ok, and furthermore a success. Rowen is already a success just being himself. He may not have the successes that this world categorizes as so. Or maybe he will. But I was energized thinking once again that he will do well and be cared for by his Creator in ways that I can't possibly dream.

On days I want to throw in the towel and scream that I give up, I need to be reminded of the graces that come with having Rowen as my son. He makes me laugh. He makes me cry. He makes me want to pull my hair out some days, but he also cares for me like no other. He is Rowen. And that is enough.