trust.

We decided to switch Speech Therapists.

Neither one of us knows if this is the best idea or not but we didn't feel comfortable with leaving things how they were. I didn't want to waste anyone's time if I didn't feel that we were seeing the person who best fits Maddy's needs. I am sure that ST does a great job with the other patients she sees. She just wasn't right for Maddy, in my opinion, so it's best to sever ties early.

Of course this leaves us with a new issues of now having to travel a much longer distance twice a week for speech and OT therapy. It isn't too much of an issue right now but it will be a problem when winter hits. I know Justin and I both pray for snow every year (yes we are those people) but this year I'll be hoping for a mild winter. I am not incapable of driving in the winter or in snow or anything of that...in fact, I'm actually relatively good at it...but I don't necessarily like it. And when I have any of my babies with me in the car then I really don't like it. But I'm just going to have to trust that this is the direction we are supposed to go.

The rural outreach program offered by our hospital is a nice thing to have, I'm sure, for people not necessarily needing the specific kind of treatment that Maddy needs. The problem is that there isn't anything real definite. There was no specific room just for speech therapy...one day we were using an ER trauma room as our speech room. Watching my 2 year old sit on a chair next to a bed with stirrups on the end while she tried to play with her speech toys was just unnerving. My mind kinda went...wait, what? What is...this?! The only other option was a family room in the hospital that had a table, couch, television....one of those rooms that even I, myself, sat in as we watched the hours on the clock tick away with my Grandpa M on his last few hours of life. Also very unnerving. I'm not saying that my child deserves a special room just for HER...but I am saying that any kind of speech therapy should have a room for it. Not some corner that no one is using at the moment.

And the option of coming to our house or Maddy's therapy room at the church (yes, I need to get that set up...mental note, go do that.) was out of the question...apparently we had to use the hospital facilities.Or lack their of. Weird.

So now we're waiting again...which is a horrible feeling. Absolutely gross. We waited a month for speech to start and then we turned her down so do we have to wait another month to find someone else? I really hope not. I have enough guilt as it is. The hospital was supposed to call yesterday afternoon with a schedule for us but they didn't. That doesn't make me feel any better. And while the scheduling lady is off enjoying her weekend with her family, I am watching my child and second guessing every move I am making. Parenting, when having to make the huge major decisions and not knowing if those were the right decisions, sucks.

Because all I hear is tick....tick....tick...in my brain. Everything says you gotta get this going NOW. If you get to 3 and you haven't started, you lost the best possible time for treatment. In 2 weeks she will be 27 months old and still no real therapy in line yet.

Breathe.

It is insanely hard to relax about this. Worrying doesn't do any good. It's human nature. My human nature. I know that I need to let go, trust that I am doing everything I can and let God take care of the rest. I KNOW that. Can I DO that? I don't know. It's in my brain...but my heart hasn't totally let go of this control issue. This need to try and control every aspect of everything so I can fix it. Even though I am drowning in myself. It's overwhelming. It's suffocating. And heartbreaking.

On Thursday Justin made me take Maelle to the beach. MADE me. Eva had gone to a friend's house. Maddy was napping after her 4 am wake up call. So it was just Maelle awake and both of us were home. He grabbed her swim suit and life jacket and demanded that I take her to the beach for some one on one time...something I barely EVER have with Maelle. I refused at first...I have too much to do. But he insisted. So off Maelle and I went. I felt horribly guilty to both Maelle and everyone else on the planet. On one hand, I was having someone else watch my oldest child and she was even volunteering to do some of our laundry to help me and here I was tripping off to the beach like it was nothing. And on the other hand, I never spend any time with my middle child...ever. She is always with a sister if she is with me. So it was much needed.

And as I sat on the sand and watched my beautiful normal spectrum functioning two year old throw rocks into the lake and giggle and laugh, I started to cry. She is so awesome and I'm missing her. She's being thrown into the "you're normal therefore you're fine" category. I was becoming one of those parents who neglects their other kids and only focuses on the "sick child". Though totally NOT intentionally. I mean, how could I not? It's typical trauma code...deal with the most life threatening patient first and work down from there. Do enough to get by with the others so they are okay. Not that parenting is trauma code...but you get the analogy, right? (no, i have no experience in the medical field...just raised by parents who were)

I did my best to let go of everything else that was happening at home and just focus on the beach, Maelle, and me. We had fun. She was amused by the sand and the rocks and the water. We stayed an hour and then she just put her shoes on and looked up at me with her beautiful crystal blue eyes and said "go go?"

I love her. I can only hope that I don't have to be forced into reminding myself to spend time with just her. That she has needs too. She needs her "ommy" just like Maddy does. And Eva does.

The moral was not to get so caught up in helping Maddy that I'm missing the bigger picture. I have to trust that God will give us the tools to do this. That He will sustain us. He will guide us through this path and however autistic spectrum or not that Maddy ends up being....she will be okay. She will be Maddy. And we will be a family. The housework will get done eventually. The meals will be cooked. The dogs will be walked and trained. The cats will be fed. The therapy will be done. And life will go on. We will make it. I have to trust that God gave us Maddy for a reason. She was our twin that we weren't planning on and her surprise existence and then surprise autism are all for something much greater than just US.

I can see her changes everyday and those changes are outward and not inward. That needs to give me hope. That He is providing a way for her. The simple fact that one day she was sitting on the slide waiting for her sister to climb up the ladder and she looked over at her, smiled, and said to her sister, "Hi Maya!"

That proves to me that we are not alone in this battle. We are never alone. Ever.