This was the last question asked of me during my initial meeting with the coordinators from the Infant/Toddler program. They came out to our house a few weeks ago (yeah, lagging behind on the blog again) to assess Bud's speech and growth development, and to find out a little more about what our family's needs would be - which is fantastic - but I was not prepared for that last question. My first reaction? Uhhhh. Then, my second thought was, "Yeah, hope you packed a sandwich 'cause this could take a while. A long while."
I don't know if any of you have ever been asked this question by any members from your assessment team, or from just plain anybody, but it really struck a nerve. Not that I was put out by the coordinator asking this question, but because I finally had to come out and actually say - out loud, that my biggest fear was worrying about how hard my child will struggle with leading a regular life. He can hear pretty well now, but how clearly will he be able to hear in the classroom and concentrate once he's in school? He barely sits down to play for more than three minutes, will he ever be able to participate in circle time? Will the other kids give him a hard time because of his "ears?" Will he begin to feel badly about himself because he's the only kid in his class with those "ears?" It's taking a long time to get his speech up to par with his peers, how do we get there, and will we ever find out what's causing his gap in speech development?
Of course, we are still praising the miraculous technology of cochlear implants and Bud has come such a long way. But as I have been saying for the past two and a half years on here, there's a lot more work to be done before we can proclaim that we have finally made it. And when it comes to your kids, you're always going to have something on your mind to keep you up at night anyway.
Our coordinator then asked if that was the only thing that kept me up at night, worrying about Bud's progress, and I replied that it was despite the other thoughts in my brain screaming to be let out such as:
1. Ebola. Okay, really, it's this whole "self-monitoring" protocol and the eight million different ways that each state should handle it. Or not.
2. That enterovirus making so many kids across the country sick and landing in hospitals.
3. Did I take out the chicken to defrost for tonight's dinner?
4. How many years do we wait to try and buy and invest in a house?
5. Too many more questions regarding the economy to list here.
6. How many more friends/family members/ people close to me will I hear about getting cancer before the end of the year? It's happening so much more nowadays.
7. Does Bud need regular preschool, special preschool or a combo? Should I even think about homeschooling? But what if he ends up having a shooting at his middle school?
8.. Did I brush my teeth this morning?
9. How much more will society collapse before my son turns eighteen? Will college even exist? I kinda hope not because there will be no way to pay for it by then if costs don't come down.
To honor my OCD and make this list an even '10'
10. I think I just left my purse in the grocery cart (I realize as I've been driving in the car for fifteen minutes and now I'm halfway home).
Just a sampling of my brain on a daily basis. Yes, I do acknowledge that I should be admitted.
Maybe all of this is normal with the thoughts racing, the worrying, the forgetting. Maybe most of our fears are unwarranted. Maybe it's hard for us to face the unknown and to get past the fact that we can only control what happens in the present, and even then it's to a default. It's the need to control and the need to protect - especially once you have children. Because as joyful as children make our world, it also becomes a much more fearful place for us as parents when we think about just how complicated that world can be.
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