Iann is crying in his crib. For the second time tonight. I turned my light off close to 11pm, but my mind was racing and I couldn't fall asleep. Full of what will come from Iann's IEP meeting on Tuesday. Will the school district people listen to my concern's about him going to preschool? Will they provide him with the services he needs? Will he be OK in preschool? Will I be OK with him in preschool?
When Iann started crying around 11:45, I gave him some time to see if he'd resettle himself. He usually does. Tonight, however, he was really crying by midnight. Not hysterical, mad cries. He was sobbing, weeping. In the past I've found that he isn't totally awake when he's doing this and if I go in to move him in his crib, that act is enough to resettle him. So I picked him up and put him down facing the other direction in his crib, and walked out. He was settled by 12:15am, and I was back in bed soon thereafter.
But I still couldn't sleep. I was thinking about church this morning. Jon's schedule changed for the summer, and he is now off on Saturday and Sunday, allowing us to go to church together regularly, for the first time in over 3 years.
For the past few weeks we have gone to the church where we used to go before Alex passed away. When we check the kids in they get a name tag with their names and number printed on it. Our number is 348, or something close to that. Remember, it's now 1:40am!!! Anyway, we get a label with 348.1 to take with us, reminding us of our number in case we get called out for one of the kids. Brynn's number is 348.2 and Iann is 348.4. It struck me that Alex must have been 348.3 and I got all caught up in wondering if his name is still in the computer database. Number 348.3 will never get printed again, never be used again.
The sermon was about idols gaining a hold in our lives when 'the good becomes a God.' The pastor used examples like hobbies, hunting, work, money. When a person's good hobby becomes his God it divides his joy, heart and purpose away from God. Not that we shouldn't have hobbies, but when a person can't feel joy when unable to partake in her hobby, then it's become an idol. Fair enough.
How about grief? Grief cuts huge holes in my joy, my heart and my purpose. These day's I'm not struggling with grief over losing Alex, that pain will always be with me, but it has started to reach a low, pulsing level that is almost tolerable. Not acceptable, tolerable.
No, this season's grief is for what I thought life would be like after losing Alex. Us wanting another child to love, a brother for Brynn to play with. Iann is certainly both of those things, and yet not in the way we imagined.
Forty-five minutes after settling the first time, Iann started crying again. I was still awake, so once again I gave him time to resettle himself, but he didn't. I got up to move him in his crib again, but it wasn't the same quick answer this time. That was fifty-six minutes ago and he is just starting to have periods of quiet amidst his singing/whining, indicating he is - maybe - falling asleep.
As he is lying in bed making noises, I wonder what is keeping him awake. I am kept awake some nights because my thoughts are racing, for him I'm told it's more because his body is racing. His sensory system has a hard time regulating itself and slowing down. In light of this Iann's OT has got the ball rolling for his early intervention program to buy him a weighted blanket. I don't expect him to lie still and fall asleep with it on him, instead I plan to go in and cover him with it once he's asleep. Or, at times like right now when I hope it'll help his body slow down and let him fall asleep.
A friend who has a 6 yr old with autism, says he can now tell her that his body feels funny, feels too fast, and that he needs his weighted blanket to help it slow down.
I love that little boy with all of my heart. But life with a special needs kiddo was not something I imagined. Losing a baby is not what I imagined. It's certainly not all bad - we went to my parent's for a BBQ this evening and he happily played with car's and stickle-bricks on the deck all evening. Not actually building with the stickle-bricks, mind you, more just moving them from one place to another, but he was content. Last night, we had friends over here, and he did great following their 3 kids and Brynn around. Well, for the most part. He did have periods of fussing every so often, but settled down after we'd all eaten. I get fussy when I'm hungry too :)
Anyway, life is what it is. This is my life. I am generally content - give Iann water to play in, give Brynn a project or a friend and my boys are happy. Sometimes, however, it all weighs a little heavy. And being awake at 2am doesn't help! Iann is still making noises sporadically, but is quiet enough that I might be able to fall asleep now. Hopefully, getting my thoughts out in this blog will help my mind settle too.
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