Power

This past Sunday the youth groups in our church put on an amazing service filled with music, dancing and preaching. The preaching was done by young man in his early twenties. It was amazing, simply amazing.

The main theme is that there is power in the name of Jesus. Powerful stuff man. There is power in His name. For a long time I felt like God and/or Jesus weren’t listening to me pray for help with my depression. Maybe I wasn’t getting better because I wasn’t praying hard enough? It wasn’t until I realized He had placed my therapist and doctor exactly in my life at the exact moments I needed them. I’m not saying God couldn’t have performed a miracle and simply healed me, He could have but it was his plan for me to receive help and guidance from the people he chose. And for that I’m amazed and incredibly thankful.

When I started attending church and bible study regularly about 3 ish years ago, my life was “ok”. Thomas was stable, life was stable and no pressing issues had come up. We even had a woman coming to the house for “residential habilitation” for Thomas. Life was good.

Fast forward a year or so and the crap hits the fan. Thomas is going through med changes and hospitalizations, I quit smoking somehow through that, and all the recreation programs I had Thomas involved in he refused to attend.

God placed me in church and I accepted Christ as my as my Saviour when things were “good”. I didn’t start attending church because my life was difficult or falling apart. But, He knew what was coming up on the horizon and how much we would need the church. He is glorious.

I struggle with completely handing my life over to Jesus and following Him as I’m sure many Christians do. I want to know why the struggle? When our Lord has done so many incredible things that show His faithfulness. He is faithful and worthy to be worshipped. I want to follow without question and that requires complete trust. I just need to keep remembering how faithful He is. He will never leave us and there is power in the name of Jesus. Praise God.

My girls

In addition to Thomas, my husband and I also have three girls.  They are each amazing in their own way.   They are also typical children meaning not special needs.  The oldest is Alyssa then Daniella and finally Samantha.  

Alyssa was the child who introduced us to what it was like to have a typical child.  She met every developmental milestone by the book. Honestly it was as if she read the book. I thanked God for her every day and marveled at her doing what she was supposed to do developmentally. It wasn’t like that with Thomas. I was a nervous wreck with him as he met his milestones either on the very late end of “normal” or just plain late. Alyssa was also a relatively easy going baby/toddler.

Daniella was incredibly sweet. She was always smiling and you couldn’t help but laugh when you held her. I was less nervous about when who did what at what age by this time. I do remember Daniella walking earlier than Alyssa. We just moved into our current home when I was literally 9 months pregnant with Daniella. Everyone kept telling me to “not do this/not do that” when we were moving, but I had to pack and unpack man! Not to mention the nesting at that time. Please. Daniella was my easiest delivery, I credit all the time I did cleaning on my hands and knees. Thomas was almost 5 yrs old when Daniella was born.

Samantha. Ahhh Samantha. Samantha is our last but definitely not the least. She is the one God gave me after 2 miscarriages; one after another. The time of our losses was definitely one of mourning and stress. I remember after the 2nd loss I woke up the next day and just carried on like nothing happened. Not good. I didn’t mourn until 2 weeks past the actual loss. But getting back to Samantha. She was our biggest at birth and I would say she is our biggest challenge personality wise of our 3 girls. She definitely has a stubborn streak and is probably the stereotype of the “youngest child”.

In some ways when Thomas was stable (IE: before med change) he could be easier than the girls. He was more fun to shop with as he wouldn’t be all that picky with his clothes. He would give simple “yes” or “no” answers when asked if he wanted say a shirt/pants. He is also sweet and kind. If you have girls who are into clothes you know the pain of shopping with them and being looked at as if you are the most fashion challenged person on this planet. That may sound like a complaint of my girls but it’s really not. What they do or did to me while shopping is wonderfully typical. Things like that keep me grounded as a mother and do provide a laugh or two when it’s over.

It’s funny as I always felt like I was living in 2 worlds when our kids were all young. I had Thomas and I was the mother of a special needs child. I adored the “Welcome to Holland story/poem (http://www.our-kids.org/Archives/Holland.html). The girls allowed me to “visit” the world of being a mother of typical children. I used to feel I was straddling two worlds. Not fitting completely into either. I remember going to every single parent teacher conference of Alyssa and Daniella. It was a new world to me at first and I loved it. With Thomas I had IEP meetings, speech, PT and OT eval’s and meetings. Parent teacher meetings were about IEP goals. It was different than the girls. Neither one was “better”. I learned so much being Thomas’ mother and I learned just as much being the girls’ mother. I say “learned” in the past tense because I’m referring to grade school years of the older three. I’m still learning and probably always will be.

These days I’m not worried about where I fit in. I have my Thomas and I have my girls. Sometimes they’re separate groups of children. All the time they are simply mine.

Pity

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While talking with Nancy my therapist we somehow got on the topic of pity. I brought it up when I was talking about how tough the early years were with Thomas. It was a time when Thomas was in and out if the psych hospital, then residential school, then I had a miscarriage.

For whatever reason I decided to reconnect with a friend I had been close with in high school. We hadn’t talked in years and we were “catching up”. Tommy and I had attended her wedding and now she had a young child. I mistakenly thought that because we were so close years ago that I could tell her what my life had been like the past year. I think I got to the point of admitting Thomas to residential school when I heard it. Pity. There it was and I couldn’t believe it. I felt punched in the stomach to hear it in this person’s voice.

Nancy asked me how that felt and I replied, “Less than. That my life was that far from normal, we were less than.” At that time I was so taken aback by the pity I quickly made small talk to get off the phone, but of course not without my own jab about a new friend she had made. I wasn’t nice.

Nancy discussed pity with me that people who pity others build themselves up and look down on others. That was kind of the feeling I had. I mean in retrospect I didn’t have to dump my life on her like that but I really considered her a “friend” and friends don’t pity other friends. Right after I hung up with the pity friend I called my best friend. I was crying and telling her about the other phone call. Then I said, “My life isn’t that bad is it Jenn?” She answers, “well actually it is but I’ve been walking along side you so it’s not so bad to me”. My best friend was honest with me. Honest. I can handle honesty.

Waiting and patience

I’ve been feeling discouraged that things are not moving fast enough or in the right direction concerning my business.  For those not in the know I shop either for a client or myself and I specialize in the thrift. I find designer items and sell them. I love the thrift, I love the thrill of the hunt. Www.nayaudo.com is my website that is not updated, I know I’ve posted it here before.

Anyway, I’m convinced God hasn’t divulged his plan as of yet, meanwhile I keep telling myself right now I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. It’s funny because when I was waiting on a residential school for Thomas I knew one would come along but on God’s timing not mine. I was so certain and I was right, God and the Holy Spirit made sure Thomas arrived at where he’s supposed to be.

I need to find that same confidence in knowing that I am right at this time in my life. God has put me exactly where he wants me to be for now and he will decide when things are to move. Sounds confident doesn’t it? I need to instill those words in my soul and let it be my answer when I begin to have feelings of doubt and frustration and discouragement. He is faithful.

In other news, our church is performing a Live Nativity. Actors with costumes act out Mary, Joseph and Jesus in the manger and the shepherds arriving and then the wise men. It’s so moving and just beautiful. The choir (which I am a member of) sings carols and songs about His birth. It’s all so amazing when you really think about it. The birth of the man who will become a Savior and die a horrible death to pay for our sins. Christmas is about His birth. The ultimate gift of salvation. It’s miraculous.

Thanksgiving

We had a really nice, drama free Thanksgiving. Thomas was home, Tommy picked him up Tuesday night as the weather people were predicting a bad storm for us that we never had. It was fine though. We had a really nice visit. Thomas’ behavior was fine and even had some laughs. My boy has a beautiful smile.

Saying goodbye after a nice weekend was the worst. Tommy decided Sunday morning would be best traffic wise. When it was time to go Thomas became very upset and the next thing I know we’re both crying. Tommy says he wonders what is worse, bringing him back when the visit is not so good or bringing him back after a nice easy visit. Personally I think it’s easier when his behavior sucks, this way we have no guilt. But the other day man…I was reminded of the decision we made, how difficult that decision was and still is. The reminder that we can’t give him what he needs. That part hurts, really hurts.

I was thinking of Thanksgiving last year. My anxiety was rediculously high and I was apprehensive about Thomas being home. Thanksgiving was nice and uneventful. Except after everyone left I had to clean like there was no stopping me. Tommy and the kids were trying to watch a movie and I needed to vacuum. Yes I needed to vacuum. This didn’t go over to well with everyone else but I managed to get it done quickly.

We went to the mall the night of Black Friday. It wasn’t that crowded but out of nowhere I had an anxiety attack and needed to get out of there. I was a ton of fun last year I tell you.

It’s amazing what a year can do or bring. Even though saying goodbye to Thomas was so very hard I was able to do it and not fall apart. We cried together and he told me he was sad. That he recognized and named his emotion is a big deal. My husband texted me that Thomas transitioned well when they arrived back at school. For years I’ve said that God has blessed my son with this tremendous gift of resilience. He is able to live away from us and become acclimated to a new environment and people he doesn’t even know. My son is very brave in my opinion.

It’s funny though because when he’s home, things are very different. Thomas needs to be kept “busy” and that isn’t always easy. I have to get back into the routine of his meds and their times. At meal times we have to remind Thomas to pull his chair in, eat over your plate, slow down… And I forget how much a teen age boy can eat. I’m not complaining.

I know we made the right decision for our family to choose residential school. I just miss the Thomas who was stabile and not aggressive, the one who lived at home.

The Live Tree

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We searched for, picked out, purchased lights for, brought home and put up our first live tree yesterday.  I’m more than happy to spend my "black Friday" that way.  Aside from making sure the tree was secure in the stand our day was pretty uneventful and I’m not complaining.

Reading that "we searched for" our tree makes me smile because we went to the parking lot of two major stores and a man had rented the far end of the lot to sell Christmas trees. We live in a fairly urban area and we would have to drive at least 45 minutes away to actually "search" for the perfect tree. I'm perfectly content with how we selected our tree even though in my opinion it's unlike a Christmas story book.

Thomas was thrilled picking out our tree. And I think it’s funny how God makes you slow down and notice the little things or you will miss them. As we walked towards our car with the tree I heard Thomas say, “Have a nice weekend” to the tree salesman. This is a pretty large step for Thomas in interacting and being social. I’m glad I didn’t miss it.

So our first live tree is up and lit. I have to say its gorgeous and much prettier than our pre-lit artificial tree. I don’t remember the type of tree it is but I don’t think it matters. Oh and it smells nice 🙂

Coming Home and The Tree.

Thomas will be coming home for Thanksgiving.  I’m looking forward to him being here.  Our last visit was cut short by his behavior so hopefully we won’t have a repeat of that.  For forever now we put our Christmas Tree up the day after Thanksgiving.  It’s now become Thomas’ “thing” to do with me.   The girls help out don’t get me wrong, but it’s definitely my son who call this shots about the tree and the skirt and the ornaments and the star on top and the stockings…  The older girls get into hanging up “their” ornaments like the ones I have from when they were babies or made at school.   I love those.  Oh and the girls like setting up the Nativity.     

I’d like to get a live tree this year. I’ve always been against it, paranoid of the tree drying out and being set on fire by the lights. Yes that’s how my mind works. Tommy and I discussed it and we will go tree shopping the day after Thanksgiving with Thomas. How could we go without him?

I’m getting ahead of myself though, I’m talking about Christmas trees and the day after Thanksgiving but not Thanksgiving. We are hosting at our house. It will be really nice as my Mom and I split the cooking and it works out great as nobody gets overwhelmed. Hmmmm I guess I don’t have much to say about Thanksgiving except I am thankful for my family, my church family, my friends, that I am free to worship and that I get to worship the one true God.

Maybe that’s why I’m so eager to skip over to Christmas. The songs about Jesus birth. I love them. Especially the ones that command, “Come and worship!” Of course I like the regular winter themed songs and Rudolph but the reason is Christ’s birth and we should sing about His birth and worship him.

I’m looking forward to this week. My son being home, Thanksgiving and then…The tree. The tree that Thomas can’t wait for every year.

The hurt.

When I spoke to my son on the phone the other day I didn’t mention that I felt sad afterwards.  Sad that this is his life away from us.  Before we had to take him off the one med that produced stability I had things pretty wrapped up for Thomas.  He was in a great school, awesome recreation programs and on the waiting list for group home placement for when he turned 21.  Thomas was also pleasant to be around.  High maintenance yes but not aggressive and well liked at school and his other programs.  It’s only recently have I realized that my way is not the way things were to go.  As my husband likes to say, “We’re not in charge”.  He’s right.

When I think back to actually admitting Thomas to residential; as his mother I literally gave them my son.  I couldn’t live like that anymore and neither could he. I was still spiraling from depression and everything just felt so hopeless. I realize now that our situation was not hopeless. I did love my son enough to want him to get help even if that meant handing him to other people and admitting I couldn’t do it.

I think what hurt the other day was the cold water reality that “my way” that I worked so hard for wasn’t ever going to happen. It really bothered me and it took a therapy session to unearth that in me. I’ve had time to digest that fact and I’m ok with it. What matters most is that Thomas receives all the supports and help he needs. He also needs his mother. I need to remember that, he’ll always need me here and there just like the girls. Heck I still need my mother.

I wish I had something deep and philosophical to write about the love and courage it took to allow other people to help shape my son’s future. I don’t. I can only say that it stings even hurts sometimes but it will be totally worth it to watch him grow.

IEP meeting

I spoke to my son tonight.  He called from school.  It was sweet listening to him, mostly because he wants to talk to me. And that means a lot considering all I’ve been through with him. My girls tell me about their day and friends, funny things that happen and I love it. I love that they talk to me but when it’s Thomas…he’s so deliberate in what he wants to say you feel like you don’t want to miss anything. And that he wants to talk to you and tell you about his day or upcoming events, well it’s special.

I had Thomas’ IEP meeting today (Individualized Education Plan) which is goals and therapies his school must work on and provide. This meeting was with the district. It was the most uneventful meeting ever! I already spoke with Thomas’ school last week via teleconference about building on previous goals and new goals for Thomas so the IEP meeting was a but redundant. I was happy it was redundant though. I’ve had way too many IEP meetings with me yelling and crying through the meeting because I didn’t feel heard. In those days I was fighting for my son and at this moment in time I don’t have to fight. I watched a woman younger than me walk in anger down the hall with mention of her attorney. I’ve been there, done that, have the t shirt. Part of me wanted to tell her everything will be ok, but I don’t know that at all. I don’t know her situation but I know exactly how she feels and it’s not a good feeling.

When I sat down with the district representative and a district psychologist I recognized the rep from many IEP meetings of years past. I know I’d been unpleasant to this woman during those meetings. Those meetings were full of tension and uncertainty and mistrust. At one point she asked if I remembered her and I smiled and said yes. She asked if my hair used to be blonde, I laughed and said yes. We chatted quite a bit about my son’s school, how happy we are with his placement and how happy we were with the previous school. I’ve never had such a district IEP meeting, ever! When we were done I thanked them and said it was so nice to have a meeting where I was “relaxed”. I look forward to future meetings of this manner. Praise God!

Being nudged

I mentioned me thinking of sitting with Christ in my last blog post.  I told my friend John who is the grandfather of my youngest daughter’s best friend.  He listened intently and suggested that maybe I have too much on my mind or something in particular was bothering me and Christ came to comfort me.  I thought that was very nice, but I’m not sure I believe that.  I’m not sure of the “why’s” only God knows.

 On this past Friday there were 4 of us mothers and grandfather chatting after school while the kids played in the school yard. This is common practice for us while the weather is nice. John and I passed each other in picking up our respective children. He said as we passed each other he said, “You know what you told me the other day? I need to talk more about that with you, we need to talk”. I said ok and then we were together with the other Moms.

The conversation was light hearted, out of nowhere and without warning John says to me with a smile, “Aren’t you going to tell them what you told me. Tell them what happened”. I almost froze. I was not prepared for this at all. Then I just started talking and telling about meeting The Lord and that I wasn’t daydreaming that I felt like he met with my soul. I also told them about the joy I felt afterward.

After I was done I felt uneasy. Were they going to think I was crazy? Will they persecute me? Am I ashamed? Am I embarrassed? Then I felt guilt for being concerned with those scenarios. After all that Christ went through to save me I shouldn’t concern myself with what people think. All 4 of us ended up having a very interesting conversation about how we were raised, and our various religious backgrounds, and how it shaped us. John couldn’t stress enough the most important thing is one’s relationship with The Lord. That no one knows what is in another’s heart but God.

Afterwards walking with John I told him the Holy Spirit was surely working with him to get me to speak up. That I was concerned with being bold and him encouraging me to tell my story was God’s way of making me be bold. If John didn’t say anything I never would have said anything. I’m glad he did though. I feel like I’m one step closer to the boldness I wish I had.