A peek in his life.
I guess I should start at the beginning. My pregnancy with Teej was a nightmare.
It was the worst of the worst. Every worst case scenario possible. I went into preterm labor
with him at 28 weeks. I was just 20 years old.I had no idea. My mom forced me to go to the local hospital to be checked out. I went in and it was all a blur after I walked in the door. I was rushed to a room and immediately hooked up to an IV. The drugs they pumped into me made me vomit repeatedly. I was burning hot. Before I could even stop puking I was put into an ambulance an rushed to St. Mary's Hospital 40 miles away. I was put into a ward with moms experiencing the same problems. All of us were in perterm labor. I was still so drugged I don't remember much to this day. I do recall waking up the next morning to a rose from the staff. It was Mother's Day. I had contractions they said. I felt them but not what I imagined. I was very swollen. They said I had pre-eclampsia and gestational diabetes.
They could not stop the contractions. I learned a few days later that I was on magnesium sulfate
and that was why I was so hot, and could not focus, or even hold a fork. I begged them to turn it down. Just enough so I could see straight. I could not get up to use the
restroom or shower. I was on complete bed rest. The first few days they said was touch and go. The doctors said I could lose the baby. Chances were I could have died myself from my BP spiking or toxicity. I cried a lot.
I stayed in the hospital until it was safe if he did come, he would likely survive. They did daily
ultrasounds and amnios to check for lung development. I got very painful steroid shots to beef up his lungs. I was released from the hospital on procardia that I had to take every four hours round the clock. A week later I was in labor again. We went back to that same local hospital but they had told me if he came this early they couldn't help us because it was not set up with a premie urgent care. They gave me more shots and meds and told me to try to hold out for one more week. And that's just what happened. 6 days later I was in again. They decided to induce. And oh the irony, TJ refused to come out! Well, actually he was stuck on my pelvic bone. After being in labor for months they had to go in with forceps. He got a nasty cut on his head and I got a third degree episotomy. Much to our surprise, at 35 weeks he was a healthy 6lbs 2oz.But jaundice. He spent the first weekend of his life naked under bili lights in a Childrens hospital.
But...otherwise healthy. The ordeal was over. He was safe and healthy. A sigh of relief.
They said although he appeared to be healthy physically he could have neurological problems later in life. I didn't think about anything at that moment. He was fine. Beautiful and here!
I thought the rough terrain was behind us! Nothing could possibly be worse than what we experienced. Nothing could top that.
Or could it...
For the first year of his life I was a mess. He didn't sleep. Ever. He didn't like to be held, or swaddled, or messed with. He cried all the time. Some days I did too. He didn't sleep through the night until he was about 4 months old and then it was only occasionally. He was lactose intolerant.
Looking back now I can definitely say I had Post Partum Depression for at least the first year. I feel as if I never really bonded with him. Either the trauma of the preterm labor or the demands of first time motherhood, I just know that no matter how I tried I felt like the worst mom for not being able to make him comfortable. He was a very demanding toddler. He was into and on everything. He never sat still. He was still not sleeping and neither was I. I remember locking us in his toy room at 4am one morning. I knew nothing could hurt him in there and I napped
leaning on the door while he played. We were both sleep deprived. He hated tags on his clothing. All tags had to be removed. When he was old enough to talk he said he only wanted "soft pants". He would not wear jeans or turtle necks. His temper tantrums were epic. Worse than any other child I had ever encountered. I could not take him to Walmart without buying everything he wanted or I would suffer. Balls. He was obsessed with balls. Anything round. He had every ball in every color we could find.
Other kids never wanted to play with him. He could not share. I thought it was because he was an only child. I made excuses for him but was mortified at how extreme he was in not letting others touch his belongings.
When he was 3, his father and I divorced. I remarried soon after. My new husband was in the Marines. After he returned from his first tour in Iraq we got order to California. I went to court to try to take TJ with me but lost. In retrospect it was the right decision. He had a life here. My attorney told me to go to CA, set up a home and life for him and try again.
For 9 months I lived in California without TJ. It was the worst time in my life. Although he was such a high maintenance child he was MY child and we were apart.
It was while I was in Ca in 2003 that TJ had his grand mal seizure. He was hospitalized and diagnosed with epilepsy. Again, it was devastating. I was so far away. I could do nothing.
As soon as my husband had an opportunity to transfer closer he did. In the spring of 2004 we moved to Chicago. Just a 45 minute flight or five hour drive from TJ. It was during the move that i found out that I was pregnant with my 2nd child.
My second pregnancy was a breeze. None of the problems of the first. He was an amazingly calm baby too. I thought all children were like TJ. It was after the birth of Mason that I realized how different TJ was.
The following spring TJ came to live with us full time. He was 5, Mason was 5 months. Before leaving MO he was having a ton of problems in kindergarten and at home. He was throwing erasers and chairs at staff and students in class. He thought everyone was making fun of him. When he got upset he got REALLY mad. He could not be calmed.
When he started 1st grade in Chicago. I immediately asked for special education. The said that he needed to start out in the regular class and be assessed for special needs the first quarter. As expected by October they were already calling me in for his
first IEP meeting.
In that first meeting I bawled. Sobbed. The meeting consisted of me and about 12 school staff. All with test results of different areas. They used words like "profoundly delayed". It was all info I knew but to hear other people say it out loud was heartbreaking. He was placed
in a self contained class, had occupational therapy, physical therapy and completely modified help. He could not tie his shoe or even zip his jacket at that point. They said he could not properly hold his pencil either.
About the same time, he was formally diagnosed with ADHD and medicated. He was seen by a team of specialists from child psychologists, therapists and neurologists outside of school. He was adjusting well in school but still having BIG problems at home. The doctors said
his behavior, outbursts and tantrums were attributed to the trauma of the custody issue. They focused mostly on the ADD.
After two years things leveled off. He still had no friends and came home saying the kids were mean to him so I decided to enroll him in soccer. At first it was so hard on all of us. Kids thought he was weird and he just didn't know how to talk to them. It was painful to watch. I made his stick to it and by the second season he was coming out of his shell and starting to really enjoy the game.
In 2006 my youngest daughter was born and we got orders for California. Back to court we went. We fought for several months for custody and were granted. We moved to California.
I absolutely loved the special education system when we first moved here. They did wonders for TJ. He was still in a self contained class. He was getting along with the kids and feeling confident. Soccer was still a passion and I became the team parent. He scored his first goal here. And soon,
he was the star player. He really shined. The coach had to constantly remind him though that its a TEAM SPORT and let the others have ball time.
I still just really love to watch him play. He plays so hard and with such heart. Mostly he knows hes good at something and feels his place is on that field. I am really proud!
He finally graduated from occupational speech and physical therapy. A school year later he had surpassed the other kids in the self contained class and began talks of mainstreaming him into the school here on base. He was stoked. I was scared.
Hes such an anxious child. Everything stresses him out. The idea was awesome at first but then the reality hit. Its not been the same around here since. He now hates school. He wakes up several times a night to make sure his homework was just right. He lies about what homework he has or doesn't bring home the right books or notes. Gets mad at me for doing the homework wrong. He cries at homework time. He is late for school every day.
He wants to do homework at 6am. I have tried in vain to tell him that there are two other kids here that need my help in the mornings. He just doesn't care.
If it doesn't directly affect him its not important. He doesn't care about his personal hygiene. Not even a little. I will tell him his nails are way too long and he says they are good. I tell him he needs a hair cut. He refuses. It doesn't matter if his shoes are tied, if his socks match. He wants to wear shorts in December. None of the basic grooming skills are there. He will only brush his teeth if I am standing there.
My six and four year olds are capable of these things. Its a constant battle with TJ. Hes 11.5.
TJ still doesn't sleep. Or sit still. Ever. I had to tell him to get off the arm of the couch this morning. He was standing up there like it was totally okay. Mason told me when i was in the bathroom the other day TJ was trying to slide down the banister. He just does really dangerous stuff without a second though. He likes to creep up behind his baby sister and scream really loud just to make her cry. For no real reason. I don't know if he gets a thrill out of making her cry
or doesn't care. Hes constantly bossing the younger two around yet feels no need to follow the rules we have set for him. My word is taken merely as a suggestion. He tried to cook bacon the other morning before I even woke up. Scared me to death. He could have burned the house down. It didn't register with him how dangerous it was. Not at all.
He cannot come inside on time. We gave him a watch. He has his cell phone with an alarm and still cant do it. Chores! If he isn't reminded right that moment to do them he will "forget". Sometimes. He will be on it ASAP if he wants something. That's why i have a hard time accepting his forgetfulness. He comes off as the most self absorbed person on the planet.
Since mainstreaming the anxiety has gotten out of control. He refuses to go back to the special program even though hes struggling. Hes just drowning. Its making home life completely unbearable. We are constantly at odds.
I have never really been able to have a complex conversation with him but lately it seems like we only talk to get on to him about something. Hes always in timeout or grounded. School isn't really accommodating his needs. Its just getting worse. No kid wants to live like this.
This is when we decided to give living at dads house a try. It was a hard decision. Still is. I just know his life is not happy here. His anger is getting worse with age. I don't know what I am doing wrong with him but if it is me, and not him...I want to give him the opportunity to thrive.
The older he gets the more Aspergers symptoms he exhibits. I really want him to be re-assessed for it. I constantly go back and forth between thinking he doesn't know and hes deliberately disobeying us. I think if we had an answer we would have tools to help him. I feel like I am failing him and losing my mind at the same time.
Right now I am yelling him for jumping from couch to couch. He does things that are just so immature. Its so frustrating.
Help me help him. Someone. Anyone.
It was the worst of the worst. Every worst case scenario possible. I went into preterm labor
with him at 28 weeks. I was just 20 years old.I had no idea. My mom forced me to go to the local hospital to be checked out. I went in and it was all a blur after I walked in the door. I was rushed to a room and immediately hooked up to an IV. The drugs they pumped into me made me vomit repeatedly. I was burning hot. Before I could even stop puking I was put into an ambulance an rushed to St. Mary's Hospital 40 miles away. I was put into a ward with moms experiencing the same problems. All of us were in perterm labor. I was still so drugged I don't remember much to this day. I do recall waking up the next morning to a rose from the staff. It was Mother's Day. I had contractions they said. I felt them but not what I imagined. I was very swollen. They said I had pre-eclampsia and gestational diabetes.
They could not stop the contractions. I learned a few days later that I was on magnesium sulfate
and that was why I was so hot, and could not focus, or even hold a fork. I begged them to turn it down. Just enough so I could see straight. I could not get up to use the
restroom or shower. I was on complete bed rest. The first few days they said was touch and go. The doctors said I could lose the baby. Chances were I could have died myself from my BP spiking or toxicity. I cried a lot.
I stayed in the hospital until it was safe if he did come, he would likely survive. They did daily
ultrasounds and amnios to check for lung development. I got very painful steroid shots to beef up his lungs. I was released from the hospital on procardia that I had to take every four hours round the clock. A week later I was in labor again. We went back to that same local hospital but they had told me if he came this early they couldn't help us because it was not set up with a premie urgent care. They gave me more shots and meds and told me to try to hold out for one more week. And that's just what happened. 6 days later I was in again. They decided to induce. And oh the irony, TJ refused to come out! Well, actually he was stuck on my pelvic bone. After being in labor for months they had to go in with forceps. He got a nasty cut on his head and I got a third degree episotomy. Much to our surprise, at 35 weeks he was a healthy 6lbs 2oz.But jaundice. He spent the first weekend of his life naked under bili lights in a Childrens hospital.
But...otherwise healthy. The ordeal was over. He was safe and healthy. A sigh of relief.
They said although he appeared to be healthy physically he could have neurological problems later in life. I didn't think about anything at that moment. He was fine. Beautiful and here!
I thought the rough terrain was behind us! Nothing could possibly be worse than what we experienced. Nothing could top that.
Or could it...
For the first year of his life I was a mess. He didn't sleep. Ever. He didn't like to be held, or swaddled, or messed with. He cried all the time. Some days I did too. He didn't sleep through the night until he was about 4 months old and then it was only occasionally. He was lactose intolerant.
Looking back now I can definitely say I had Post Partum Depression for at least the first year. I feel as if I never really bonded with him. Either the trauma of the preterm labor or the demands of first time motherhood, I just know that no matter how I tried I felt like the worst mom for not being able to make him comfortable. He was a very demanding toddler. He was into and on everything. He never sat still. He was still not sleeping and neither was I. I remember locking us in his toy room at 4am one morning. I knew nothing could hurt him in there and I napped
leaning on the door while he played. We were both sleep deprived. He hated tags on his clothing. All tags had to be removed. When he was old enough to talk he said he only wanted "soft pants". He would not wear jeans or turtle necks. His temper tantrums were epic. Worse than any other child I had ever encountered. I could not take him to Walmart without buying everything he wanted or I would suffer. Balls. He was obsessed with balls. Anything round. He had every ball in every color we could find.
Other kids never wanted to play with him. He could not share. I thought it was because he was an only child. I made excuses for him but was mortified at how extreme he was in not letting others touch his belongings.
When he was 3, his father and I divorced. I remarried soon after. My new husband was in the Marines. After he returned from his first tour in Iraq we got order to California. I went to court to try to take TJ with me but lost. In retrospect it was the right decision. He had a life here. My attorney told me to go to CA, set up a home and life for him and try again.
For 9 months I lived in California without TJ. It was the worst time in my life. Although he was such a high maintenance child he was MY child and we were apart.
It was while I was in Ca in 2003 that TJ had his grand mal seizure. He was hospitalized and diagnosed with epilepsy. Again, it was devastating. I was so far away. I could do nothing.
As soon as my husband had an opportunity to transfer closer he did. In the spring of 2004 we moved to Chicago. Just a 45 minute flight or five hour drive from TJ. It was during the move that i found out that I was pregnant with my 2nd child.
My second pregnancy was a breeze. None of the problems of the first. He was an amazingly calm baby too. I thought all children were like TJ. It was after the birth of Mason that I realized how different TJ was.
The following spring TJ came to live with us full time. He was 5, Mason was 5 months. Before leaving MO he was having a ton of problems in kindergarten and at home. He was throwing erasers and chairs at staff and students in class. He thought everyone was making fun of him. When he got upset he got REALLY mad. He could not be calmed.
When he started 1st grade in Chicago. I immediately asked for special education. The said that he needed to start out in the regular class and be assessed for special needs the first quarter. As expected by October they were already calling me in for his
first IEP meeting.
In that first meeting I bawled. Sobbed. The meeting consisted of me and about 12 school staff. All with test results of different areas. They used words like "profoundly delayed". It was all info I knew but to hear other people say it out loud was heartbreaking. He was placed
in a self contained class, had occupational therapy, physical therapy and completely modified help. He could not tie his shoe or even zip his jacket at that point. They said he could not properly hold his pencil either.
About the same time, he was formally diagnosed with ADHD and medicated. He was seen by a team of specialists from child psychologists, therapists and neurologists outside of school. He was adjusting well in school but still having BIG problems at home. The doctors said
his behavior, outbursts and tantrums were attributed to the trauma of the custody issue. They focused mostly on the ADD.
After two years things leveled off. He still had no friends and came home saying the kids were mean to him so I decided to enroll him in soccer. At first it was so hard on all of us. Kids thought he was weird and he just didn't know how to talk to them. It was painful to watch. I made his stick to it and by the second season he was coming out of his shell and starting to really enjoy the game.
In 2006 my youngest daughter was born and we got orders for California. Back to court we went. We fought for several months for custody and were granted. We moved to California.
I absolutely loved the special education system when we first moved here. They did wonders for TJ. He was still in a self contained class. He was getting along with the kids and feeling confident. Soccer was still a passion and I became the team parent. He scored his first goal here. And soon,
he was the star player. He really shined. The coach had to constantly remind him though that its a TEAM SPORT and let the others have ball time.
I still just really love to watch him play. He plays so hard and with such heart. Mostly he knows hes good at something and feels his place is on that field. I am really proud!
He finally graduated from occupational speech and physical therapy. A school year later he had surpassed the other kids in the self contained class and began talks of mainstreaming him into the school here on base. He was stoked. I was scared.
Hes such an anxious child. Everything stresses him out. The idea was awesome at first but then the reality hit. Its not been the same around here since. He now hates school. He wakes up several times a night to make sure his homework was just right. He lies about what homework he has or doesn't bring home the right books or notes. Gets mad at me for doing the homework wrong. He cries at homework time. He is late for school every day.
He wants to do homework at 6am. I have tried in vain to tell him that there are two other kids here that need my help in the mornings. He just doesn't care.
If it doesn't directly affect him its not important. He doesn't care about his personal hygiene. Not even a little. I will tell him his nails are way too long and he says they are good. I tell him he needs a hair cut. He refuses. It doesn't matter if his shoes are tied, if his socks match. He wants to wear shorts in December. None of the basic grooming skills are there. He will only brush his teeth if I am standing there.
My six and four year olds are capable of these things. Its a constant battle with TJ. Hes 11.5.
TJ still doesn't sleep. Or sit still. Ever. I had to tell him to get off the arm of the couch this morning. He was standing up there like it was totally okay. Mason told me when i was in the bathroom the other day TJ was trying to slide down the banister. He just does really dangerous stuff without a second though. He likes to creep up behind his baby sister and scream really loud just to make her cry. For no real reason. I don't know if he gets a thrill out of making her cry
or doesn't care. Hes constantly bossing the younger two around yet feels no need to follow the rules we have set for him. My word is taken merely as a suggestion. He tried to cook bacon the other morning before I even woke up. Scared me to death. He could have burned the house down. It didn't register with him how dangerous it was. Not at all.
He cannot come inside on time. We gave him a watch. He has his cell phone with an alarm and still cant do it. Chores! If he isn't reminded right that moment to do them he will "forget". Sometimes. He will be on it ASAP if he wants something. That's why i have a hard time accepting his forgetfulness. He comes off as the most self absorbed person on the planet.
Since mainstreaming the anxiety has gotten out of control. He refuses to go back to the special program even though hes struggling. Hes just drowning. Its making home life completely unbearable. We are constantly at odds.
I have never really been able to have a complex conversation with him but lately it seems like we only talk to get on to him about something. Hes always in timeout or grounded. School isn't really accommodating his needs. Its just getting worse. No kid wants to live like this.
This is when we decided to give living at dads house a try. It was a hard decision. Still is. I just know his life is not happy here. His anger is getting worse with age. I don't know what I am doing wrong with him but if it is me, and not him...I want to give him the opportunity to thrive.
The older he gets the more Aspergers symptoms he exhibits. I really want him to be re-assessed for it. I constantly go back and forth between thinking he doesn't know and hes deliberately disobeying us. I think if we had an answer we would have tools to help him. I feel like I am failing him and losing my mind at the same time.
Right now I am yelling him for jumping from couch to couch. He does things that are just so immature. Its so frustrating.
Help me help him. Someone. Anyone.
That broke my heart, After I read that I feel like giving you a big hug. As soon as I started the behaviors you said he displayed as a toddler I thought Aspergers. Attention to detail, fascinated by one thing (round objects), having no emotional connection.
ReplyDeleteI'm not even a mother so I feel like I can't even give you "real" advice, but maybe getting him re assessed will be a step in the right direction.