When I started writing about Jack's journey with an auditory processing disorder, I had grandiose ideas that I would write about things that would help people in similar situations. I would take the time to share all that I learn and help people facing the same struggle make some of the difficult decisions this journey throws your way - and there are plenty of them.
Instead, I found myself struggling to hold on. After every defining moment... just when I thought I hit the bottom of the iceberg... more comes. Sometimes I began to think I couldn't handle any more. Only to be proven wrong the next day when the next moment happened.
I realize now I was driven to solve the puzzle. Nothing that anyone said to me - no diagnosis, no explanation of Jack's abilities - made sense as I looked at my son as a whole. All of the books I read on the subject of kids and language egged me along. Some times I wonder what would have happened, or how long would it have taken, if I had just accepted what the first or the second... or the third... and so on had told me. What if I didn't have a burning desire for all the dots to be connected, all the lines to be straight, and all the spaces to be filled?
So I solved the puzzle. I told a friend of mine in an email just after I received the diagnosis, I know this isn't the end. It is the beginning of a long journey. It is the beginning of Jack's future.
I was sad. I was in tears. Everyone was trying to keep me positive. I knew I was positive. I just knew I needed to be sad, if only for a moment.
Now after a few weeks of solace. The world is a different place. I see Jack is a new light. Having the knowledge that pretty much every language avenue for him is alike an old road with missing concrete gives me insight into his world. I am able to draw him out, to give him reprieve, to open the door for him to ask questions and experiment like I have never been able to before.
And he is trusting me more and more.
For instance the other day, he wanted to tell me something. He was unable to find the words. Instead of seeing a boy trapped inside his head unable to find the word to share all of his thoughts, I knew the words were just flying inside of his head and he was unable to string them together. So I asked him to just say the words as they came to him. He did. Then together, we pieced them together so I could understand... so he could finally share.
Just that alone is a miracle in my book.
