Grief

At this point, I knew he needed many extra pushes to get to where he should be. 
Developmentally, he was no where near his age.

He wasn't the child I wish for, may never be the adult either.

Along the way I've learned so much.

I've learned that a great physical therapist will not tell you that when first meeting your precious baby he truly believes that he will never walk. Instead he gently pushes him and teaches you how to work with him so that he can reach his full potential. And only when he is finally walking, he tells you the truth with such sincerity.

I've learned that no matter what, I will always be judged. I will be judged on my parenting when my child is having a meltdown because he is too overstimulated and does not have the ability to control his feelings. I will be judged if he freaks out because of a popsicle/chair/wanting to open a door before someone else does etc etc etc... Of course it's my fault, I've spoiled him too much. I've been judged by friends, family, strangers... I'd love to invite them to walk a mile in our shoes. They'd see that we aren't doing too bad actually. He has his moments, but he's also trying so hard.

I've learned that finding what works for him as far schooling is so, so tough. Either they push you transfer him out, or they are just not doing enough for him. Although eventually both him and I have some pretty awesome friends we've met through the schools.

I've learned that life is unpredictable. Plans you once had need to be changed, and you have to accept that and move on, and you may not able to move on, but you can move forward, day by day.

I've learned that I will never stop fighting for him. Never stop fighting to give him what he needs. Whatever that might take.

I've learned that good pediatricians are few and far between. And I'm so honored to know so many of them. 

I've learned that it's ok to cry, to hate this unfair life. I used to feel guilty. I felt guilty that I hated the cards we were dealt with while others had it so much worse. Sometimes you feel so overwhelmed that you wish you could take a 5 year nap and hope life could be a little easier when you wake up, and it's ok to cry because of it. Along with this, I've perfected my fake smile. Sometimes I'm falling apart on the inside, but smile through it all because I can't let those feelings get in the way of giving him the best life I can. I can't let him see just how broken I feel when things get extremely tough. I have to be positive for him.

I've learned so many, and I really want to share with him. So he can learn, too.