There are a lot of things I don't miss about trying to do the infertility dance. Shots, looking like a junkie, pills, waiting rooms, peeing in a cup, more shots, more tests, ultrasounds, "what-if's" and oh yeah, shots. The funny thing is that the most obnoxious part for me wasn't the physical torture I got to endure, it was the time I had to spend on the phone with insurance companies and doctor's offices trying to make the bills less than our rent.
"What do you mean you won't cover that? I called last week, you SAID it was covered, otherwise I wouldn't have done it! THREE doctors offices told me this was covered by insurance! YES, MY insurance!"
Part of not doing the treatments again for a while meant I got a break from weird insurance things and could just pay for things like vaccines and ear infections.
But no. Ohhhh no. Now we get to deal with insurance from therapists.
Did you know therapy is expensive?
Did you know therapists don't like to meet at times when my husband can take the other kids?
Did you know that I now get to spend my afternoon on the phone trying to track down a decent therapist who will take our insurance?
Did you know therapist offices are really nice until you tell them you're going to have to go with another office because you can't afford to spend $150 a week for WHO knows how long?
Did you know the guilt you feel for doing things like, buy a new pair of flats because yours are still in Vegas, Disney passes (which I have to say, I should feel more guilty about, but there is something SO therapeutic about going to Disneyland and living for a few hours in a place that's magical and happy, and IS STILL CHEAPER THAN THERAPY) and delivery for the night when you just can't cook macaroni and cheese one more time instead of paying for therapy? It's staggering.
Did you know trying to find the balance between helping your child and destroying your family, sacrificing EVERYONE else in your family for your child, is really, really, heartbreakingly hard?
We had one good day last week. One. I focused every ounce of attention I had on him. He did well. Charlotte, not so much. Julia, even less so. And I may have screamed at my husband. A lot. But you know, Gabe had a good day?
I know there's a light at the end of this tunnel. I know we'll have to figure some kind of therapy thing out. I know I should be wiser with my money and that everyone has an opinion and answers and knows better than I do.
But, like 90% of our lives thus far, unless you've walked that path, faced those choices, considered the long term, weighed the consequences and tried to act perfect 100% of the time with a child who was hurting, who was struggling and who was angry and sad and confused, until you've faced that this isn't just about him sitting still for circle time but that the suicide rate of kids with ADHD is enough to stop your heart
You don't get to judge. I ask for compassion and support. My ward here has been amazing. Dinner showed up at our door last night when Mike and I were too worn down to try to go to church. I sat down on my bed and slept for three hours without moving. This is draining. It's exhausting.
And it's very likely all my fault.
1 comment:
Wow Ashley, I can see myself in your story.
I remember crying because a friend said her son had a hard week the week before. Apparently he had almost THREE days of being difficult. I cried because I would have given everything to have had three GOOD days. It still seems so unfair.
Finding therapy was a bitch. We got used to one person & they cut her from the program. We STRONGLY disliked another. One told me not to explain things to Nick, he needed to know that I was the boss, that I was giving him too much power taking the time to help him understand why we were doing what we were doing. Not to mention the insurance issues!
Someone told me once & I have told Nick hundreds of times "God chose ME to be Nick's mom" Yes I question why He thought I was strong enough to do this, but I did & do know that as hard as it's been & as hard as it still can be, He got it right.
People who don't have "challenging" children have a hard time understanding it. I can't even begin to fully explain it to them. There are so many contradictions in to keep track of.
I remember the moment I "got it". I was sitting in one of many parenting classes & I realized that I was never going to get it right. There would always be someone who said I was too hard on him & someone else would always say that he just needed a couple good swats on the butt. There would NEVER be a time that everyone said I did it right. Ever.
I was at Target once & there was a woman in front of me with a little girl who was on the verge of becoming a puddle she was melting down so badly. The little girl was hanging on the shopping cart to prevent her Mom from getting in line SCREAMING "I want to whatcha-ma-do!", "I want to whatcha-ma-do!" I was so irritated I wanted to just buy her the whatch-ma-do just to make her stop SCREAMING. Her Mom somewhat calmly said no everytime. Then the little girl started freaking out because she had lost her shoe in the Toy aisle. The Mom somewhat calmly said "That's ok, you have more shoes at home". That of course didn't make the girl stop screaming. It was horrible, it was loud & it was irritating.
However, I made sure to check out quickly & I hurried over to the Mom. I touched her arm & said "You did the right thing, you handled that very well". She turned on me lightning fast & said "WHAT?!" I repeated what I said & her shoulders slumped. She very quietly said Thank you. Then she took a deep breath & rounded up her red-faced, hiccuping, sweaty daughter & left the store.
She did what was best for her daughter in spite of what everyone around her was thinking. How freaking hard is that!? I always am looking for approval & struggle to make everyone happy, which of course makes me anxious & crazy.
I know that isn't always easy but for your sanity & your children's, always try to remember that you're never going to make everyone happy. Somewhere, somehow someone's going to have a BETTER way. But if it's not better for YOUR children, then the everyone else can just go rub sand in their eyes.
You got this. You're a great Mom. The fact that you admit you're not perfect makes you the best Mom yet.
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