Moving Forward

It's no secret that things have been going well since Nick came into our lives full time. Ian is sleeping, and there have been no violent meltdowns since the beginning of May. Sean and I have been waiting for the "honeymoon period" of having him to be over before we let our guards down, but so far it seems as if Nick slipped into our lives as the missing puzzle piece we've been searching for.

I think the things that continuously amaze me are Ian's ability to put words to his feelings and the way he can start getting himself back under control. I've seen this happen a few times now, but last Wednesday was another one of those 'miracle moments' that I wanted to share.

Ian was in an accelerated learning camp last week, and he was exhausted every day when I picked him up. If I had thought about it I would have cancelled his therapy appointment, but it honestly never occurred to me (hey, it's summer and things are always in disarray in the summer). We arrived at the office with Ian in tears and refusing to get out of the car, but with some coaxing I was able to at least get him in the waiting area. He sat in the corner in a ball with his head buried in the neck of his shirt, and he was sobbing. He kept saying, "I'm not going in there. I'm not going inside," and Nick was sitting in front of him and putting his head on his knee. Ian was too far past the point of even recognizing the dog was there with him, and it took all I had to keep Ian from screaming and running out of the doors. His therapist came out when his appointment was set to begin, and boy was she surprised. She had never seen Ian in an overwhelmed state, and while you can explain what happens during an episode all day long, until someone actually sees him in the midst of one, it's hard to imagine. We worked together and were able to get Ian to go back in her office by walking off with Nick and telling Ian that his buddy needed him, and I was able to get them settled pretty quickly once we were behind closed doors. The therapist told me she would do easy things with him, so I went back into the waiting room to berate myself for not thinking ahead and for not just cancelling the appointments the minute I realized he was too overwhelmed.

Just like he's been doing lately, Ian surprised me once again. His therapist snuck out about 30 minutes into his session, and she told me she had gotten Ian down on the floor and that Nick had done exactly what he was supposed to. He lay right next to Ian, and then Ian and she were able to play a game of Battleship without any problems. In fact, when the therapist left the room to speak to someone and then returned, Ian actually said, "I'm sorry for causing a scene in the waiting room. I don't usually do that, and I'm sorry."

I am blown away. Even though it's been days since this event, I still tear up when I think about it. If you could have seen my son a year ago, heck, even six months ago, you would not believe he is the same child. Not only that, you wouldn't believe we are the same family that we were just a short time ago! While we are still on high alert, we aren't in panic mode. We can make plans without the constant fear that 'something' will happen. We laugh more. We spend more time together as a family of four (well, five, counting Nick) rather than the three of us doing something and hoping our son will join us. We are a unit.

We are happy.