Thinking about the past

I've been thinking a lot lately about when my son was little.

I remember all of the pain we all were in, how angry we were, how scared I was, how out of control everything was.

I remember when I couldn't stop crying after I got the diagnosis for Monster, even as I told myself, other people have children who are dying or dead. I have no right to be so sad. But I was. And I told myself, it's still my Monster, he hasn't changed at all. But I still felt as if he had been changed somehow, tainted, ruined.

I remember the anger and hurt I felt toward all of the daycare people who accused my son of being bad, being poorly disciplined, having a bad mother, etc.

It was four years of hell.

And after I stopped crying I realized what a gift we had now. A diagnosis. I look at it as if we were handed a map without the "You Are Here" arrow and told to find our way to the center. The diagnosis gave us that red arrow. The place to start.

Plus it gave us a chance to stop blaming ourselves and being angry with Monster for not behaving.

When I think about how far we have come (and yes we have SOOOO far to go but I can't think about that now), I am so relieved that we got the diagnosis. Yes, it was painful to confront and it damned near destroyed my heart, but in the long run it's such a good thing. We are so much happier now, all of us.

Thank goodness for labels. I never thought I'd want my son labelled. But thank goodness.