My phone ringing would send me into a panic. It always meant the same thing; Gabriel was having a meltdown again and I would need to rush to pick him up from Preschool. I saw the exasperation in the eyes of his teachers as I would run into the classroom, hearing Gabriel's shrieks and screams as he sobbed because he couldn't get the trains to stay on the track, water dripped on the counter or he wasn't able to stay in his seat long enough to get a snack. I'd pick him up like a potato sack and the teachers would try to reassure me, "We'll try again Thursday."
When we would get home, he'd sob. He was so frustrated and angry. I'd hold him and he'd cry. If I didn't hold him, he'd start running around and throwing things. And he'd scream. Boy howdy, can my boy scream.
Everywhere we'd go, problems. He couldn't go to Primary because he couldn't sit still and nobody could handle him. So I quit going to church regularly. School, which was supposed to be three hours twice a week, would go an hour before I'd have to get him. Taking him anywhere was a nightmare because he'd fixate on something; I'd eat his popcorn at Target, he wanted a doughnut, he dropped his flipflop, he couldn't hold still anymore. You name it. Then he'd start screaming. And crying. And people would stare.
Oh, how the people stare at me. I used to think the same thing I know people are thinking about me. "Why doesn't she discipline her brat? Why doesn't she leave? Why does she just pretend he's not bugging everyone? Why is she laughing?"
I am that mom. I am the mom whose kid screams through the grocery store. The mom whose kid screams through Sacrament meeting, who is slow to remove them. The mom who seems to ignore her child's bad behavior. Who never calls anyone back, never goes on playdates, limits time at the park to ten minutes. I am the mom who can never get anyone to help out with her kids, because the girls are fine but Gabriel is just too much, even for an hour. I yell, nay, I scream at my kids. I throw things across the room when I'm alone, I wish for death on a regular basis and wonder what I did wrong when I was pregnant, what I did wrong the last four years. Did I eat something? Was it because he probably didn't get enough oxygen when I was in labor? Was it because of my genetics, the fertility drugs I took or the medicine I took so I wouldn't miscarry?
I tried everything. We re-directed him. We changed his diet. We gave him choices. We tried supplements. We prayed. We kept him isolated from everyone after a while. Finally in January, I was at Charlotte's well-child visit and Gabriel was, as usual, ricocheting off the walls wit no volume control.
Tears in my eyes, I asked the doctor if I could bring Gabriel in for an evaluation. I explained everything that was going on; the constant motion, the lack of control, the compulsive behavior, the screaming, all of it. The hardest part was that he didn't seem to want to be like that. On a trip back from California, he put his toe in his mouth. I told him to stop, he put his foot down and immediately put it back up. I told him to stop again and he put his foot down Then, he began to cry and pulled his foot back up to his mouth. I realized then that he couldn't help himself.
The doctor watched him for a moment and turned and asked, "Ever had him tested for ADHD?" Apparently he was an expert, he no longer took new cases because doctors from all over the country had sent him their difficult cases and he was overwhelmed. But he set me up with an appointment with a colleague. Then he looked me in the eye.
"I need you to know two things. First off, you're a good mom and this is not your fault. Second, he can't help himself and he hates being like this."
I filled out the mile long survey as honestly as I could, grateful that he showed no violent tendencies. I had his school fill out their form and decided it was best not to look too closely at it, since the piece I glanced at reflected what everyone who came into contact with him had stated, "Bad kid."
The appointment was short. As Gabriel threw himself off the table, the doctor told me he was hesitant to give any kind of medication to a child this young. I started crying as he continued, "But he's going to hurt himself if we don't do something now."
The first day of medication was amazing. I picked him up from school to find he'd had a nearly perfect day. I cried in the car as he sat happily in the back seat and told me about playing with the trains and how nice the other friends in his class were. He'd never interacted with them before and he'd spent the day playing with other kids, actively, for the first time ever.
After a few weeks, I took him in for his follow-up appointment. His dosage was adjusted as the medication wore off early in the afternoon.
We moved two days later.
And all Hell broke loose.
The screaming began. The sleepless nights. He lost weight. He became obsessive about things, repeating things over and over again.
I've been doing this now for three weeks.
On Monday, we took him to his new doctor. I filled out some more forms, and he was diagnosed, officially, with a very severe case of ADHD. Today I take him to a behavioral therapist to get a full workup done on him to see if there is anything else going on. He's been off his medicine for two days and while his appetite has returned and he's sleeping again, he also pulled down my curtains (which I reinstalled and he tore them down again fifteen minutes ago) he's broken things, thrown things, hasn't stopped screaming and I'm so done.
I say this not to air my son's dirty laundry. I say this because despite the fact that my throat is raw from screaming, my house has literally been torn apart and I stopped trying to clean, I have no clean dishes, I have spanked my kid more than once, I have cried and told my husband that I literally wished I could just die
I'm not a bad mom. I'm not a bad person. I am trying. With every single ounce of my being, I am trying so hard to do right by my kids.
So next time you're in the store and you see a kid screaming with a mom who's just ignoring them, or trying to frantically bag her groceries while a child throws things, or there's a mom who keeps taking her kid out in the hallway at church or never calls you back or seems to always be angry, remember there's probably a reason.
We don't always ask for help. I asked for help so many times in the last two years and almost never got it. It damaged my faith, made me feel so alone and when the hard stuff really hit, I was so much worse than I had to be because I had no one to turn to. I stopped going to church because of all of it and nobody noticed. Or if they did, nobody said anything.
My son is a bright boy. He is so smart and despite the inability to sit still and his lack of impulse control, he's such a sweet kid. Every time someone cries in front of him, he walks over and puts his hand on their arm and starts singing to them. He's a prankster, he loves his dog, he loves to share because it makes people happy. On his last day at our last ward one of his teachers went to give him a lollypop. He asked for two for his sisters and joyfully handed them over before he even touched his own.
I had problems because of PCOS growing up. I know what it feels like when something is wrong with you and everyone acts like you're a bad person. I saw it happen to my child and I was helpless. We're on the path right now to get him taken care of and all I can say is that I'm so blessed we were placed here.
I feel alone right now because I haven't left the house in several days unless I ran out of food. But I'm not alone.
And neither are you.
8 comments:
I admire your bravery to share your story. Because of you, and a few other friends, I am being educated. Because of my childlessness, I don't always understand the women you described. I used to think "please just take your child to the car."
But now I have learned different. I have several friends who have autistic children, all on different levels of the spectrum. Because they have shared their experiences with me, it has helped me to be more kind and patient with strangers in the store.
I hope your story can help others. First, that it can help others in a similar situation to know that they aren't alone. But I also hope it helps others get an understanding.
The motto I try to live by is "Be kind to others. You don't know what demons they are fighting."
Hang in there Ashley! It is so incredibly hard. I went through two years of hell with the little guy. I hated being his mother and we were looking at psychological services because I had no idea what to do. I dreaded getting up in the mornings and living our lives. We went to Utah for three weeks one of the summers and what my parents saw stunned them. Through a lot of prayer and direction, we were finally able to find the root cause (allergy to soy) and my sweet, loving boy was finally back.
It's a very hard and lonely road to walk. No on understands and you have no one to turn to. I am hoping and praying you can get the help you need in a new place. I once heard that our children specifically need us (that is why they are in our family.) Whether or not that is true, I held onto that and fought with everything I had to find the answers I needed.
Lots of hugs!
And now I'm crying. Love you dear Becky.
You're beautiful. Thank you so much for your loving words.
I completely commiserate, and I'm praying you you tonight. My eight year old son has special needs, and has mega meltdowns in public frequently, sometimes without warning. We had two entire years where he had a primary protest. At one point, I was sobbing in the car after he threw his shoe at a brother walking into sacrament and screamed, "I don't want it church!". The church is true, but I'm just going to say that people in that ward were awful! We got dirty looks in the chapel, and sometimes rude comments. We LIVED in the foyer for those two years, and sometimes even fled to the parking lot. The other children in primary would give him horrified looks as he threw chairs when I plead for him to stay in class. I just knew in my heart that he loved Christ and is a wonderful boy, but the environment in church was just unbearable for some reason. Amazingly, since we've been in Texas now for almost two years, we have had a completely different experience. The new bishop noticed at once that max needed help, and he called an adult "helper" to be his special helper in primary. There are several other adults and children in our ward with special needs, I don't get judging stares, and slowly but surely Max has softened. He now runs to primary, holding another little special needs buddy's hand, and proudly shows me his coloring sheets and doodles of Jesus. Just hold on, pray for strength, and love your baby. When max gets really violently upset, I hold him tightly (a sensory trick) in my arms, rock him Back and forth, and just listen to his breathing until his little heart stops thumping and he calms down. Here are some more tips to cope. (From being a mom and ten years as a teacher of every special child imaginable) find music that he likes and that calms him down, have him play www.gonoodle.com, get him a weighted blanket and put it on his lap when you want him to sit still for a few minutes. Get him a squeeze ball that he can manipulate to keep him focused. Since he has a severe case, try giving him caffeine, we use diet Mountain Dew. Children with hyperactivity have the opposite side effect with caffeine. For church, my husband and I just traded Sunday's staying home with him for several months. We felt that it was more important for him to feel the spirit and learn about Christ from videos and games on lds.org than have a horrible experience at church. It also gives the other spouse an opportunity to enjoy church without crazy. If your husband is out of town, ask a sister to take your daughter to church and focus on your son at home. Maybe you could even get your visiting teacher to watch your children during the sacrament, so that you can take that brief time to recharge, get a break, and renew. Just remember always that Christ suffered for your agony right now and loves your baby more than you can even comprehend. I have a gazillion other ideas that you can use. Please email me at any time to get support and to pick my brain. Giulianafleming@yahoo.com. Just completely ignore the frightful stares and hideous comments and focus on your boy right now who is counting on you to love him no matter what and be his advocate to get help. As soon as your son got his diagnosis, you became part of a special family and now you will be able to get help- medically, educationally, and from specialists that have your sons best interest at heart. Much love from Texas!
Wow! Sorry I wrote a novel! I just have been there and feel your pain. Good luck!
Thank you so much for your post. For the past 18 months we've been going through the process of finding out why our (now) 8 year old son was beating the crap out of me on a regular basis (the type of ADHD lovingly dubbed 'the ring of fire') and then trying to find a treatment for him that works, which we're still working on, but getting closer to the answer. However, I have spent a year and a half feeling beyond alone, losing friends over it, becoming all but inactive for a lot of that time because of his unpredictability and what the whole situation did to me. I broke down bawling my eyes out to the principal, our bishop, my son's psychiatrist and many other people. I felt like a total failure, and because my husband and I both have diagnosed mental illness, I felt responsible for condemning my child to this somehow. Everything in our life took a backseat to figuring this out, including any and all issues our other 2 boys were going through. My well-being went entirely out the window. I became even more of a hermit than I already was. And the whole wishing you were dead thing, I was so there (and still am, often). So the reason that I want to thank you so much is that after all of this, I feel a bit less alone now because of you being willing to share this story. Thank you for that bit of comfort that you gave as you shared something so difficult for you. The doctor was right, you are a good mom, even though things are beyond hard right now. You are awesome and very inspiring, because of all you've endured and you're so open about just how human you actually are. You're real on your blog, and that means the world to a mom like me.
Ashley, I had no idea all of this was going on and I feel awful for being so clueless! I'm sitting here bawling as I read this post. I can only imagine what you and Gabe are dealing with...but thank heavens you have each other. You are so blessed to have him and he is beyond blessed to have you as his mom, I have no doubt about that. Man, what that doctor said "you're a good mom...he hates being like this," struck me to my core. Talk about a top notch doctor.
Regardless of all that - you're strong and amazing and I'm constantly amazed by you and your abilities. So keep hanging on and keep on inspiring, because that's exactly what you're doing! Love you!!!
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