Doubt

This is what I've been feeling lately.  Doubt that everything we are doing is accomplishing much at all.  Doubt that we will be able to hold on to what thread of sanity we have left.  Doubt that my son will end up okay.  Doubt that I can even find the time to eat breakfast and get all of the floors vacuumed while dealing with all of this other stuff.

Doubt arose from its first cousin, Anxiety, a couple of weeks ago.  Yes, that lovely feeling that grabs hold of your brain and refuses to let go.  I have dealt with anxiety pretty much my whole life.  I even remember its irritating acquaintance as early as kindergarten.  But this go-around, anxiety has been much more horrible to deal with because it's revolving around my child - not because of some imagined neurosis I've inflicted upon myself.

I have become so obsessed with worrying about how much hearing aid time Butters is getting, whether he's even hearing me, concerned that his auditory nerve is getting stimulated enough, etc. ( I could go on and on with this), that I realized this morning that I'm not simply enjoying him - period.  I hate that.  I've finally come to the realization that we're doing all that we can do.  We're working with the early interventionists and various other specialists.  But I've got to take a step back and let Butters do his thing - be a fifteen week old baby.  

No one can completely know if they're on the right track - if what they're doing is good enough.  You can't positively know if the hearing aids are sufficient, especially when your child can't tell you yet.  And lastly, and maybe more importantly, you can't predict the future.  Otherwise, there would be a whole heck of a lot of lottery winners in this universe.

Keep repeating - I can only do so much today, only control how I feel about the situation, and continue to do better in the future.