So it begins

L was born in 2003. The pregnancy was good, no trauma no trouble..until the end where he had to be induced. Perfect angel, little baby boy. All was well, or so we thought.
We went home and started the new routine. Having had childrne already, it was no big deal for me. But somehow (in my gut) things were different. L couldn’t be consoled, nothing would satisfy him and he constantly had a runny nose and he would just scream for weeks on end. I’d call the doc and nothing was “wrong”.
L grew and went through the stages of being ill…flu symptons but not having the flu.. he’d vomit, he’d be lethargic, hyper, not sleeping (or just a little). I was in tears most of the time, ready for a break down. At age 2, L was barely speaking, not interested in the toilet and couldn’t find his independence. I had him evaluated with the school system, L was developmentally delayed by 1.5-2 years. L was also aggressive in his behavior to the point I often had to restrain him from hurting himself or others. This describes the first four years of his life.
It was a constant back and forth…nice L…mean L…lethargic L…vomiting L…hospital L..and so forth. No doc recognized anything out of the ordinary…no one reported me to social workers because I was in the ER so many times…no pediatrician thought..hey maybe something is wrong…no one would listen to me..or hear my frustrations…how many years did we acknowledge that mom’s know when there is something wrong about their children?

It has been frustrating, and upsetting to know that something is wrong with your child, and no one can or will tell you what it might be.

I am lucky to still have L in my life (though this could change at anytime)


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