What I failed to see was, sure, I didn't sweat the small stuff... but the big stuff? Health, family, the future... all of that was closely guarded. The crazy part of it is, the big stuff is the hardest to control, but there I was grasping at straws. I make no secret that when Elliot was born I went into a dark place for about 24 hours and it took several more days to fully grasp what was ahead of us. I thought about the weirdest things in that time... like would parents let their kids play with him, would Justin and I enjoy our retirement years, would teenager Elliot be able to use the men's room alone if I took him shopping? I googled things like "can people with Down syndrome drive." I was so worried at first about the future instead of what was in front of me.
It took a lot of prayer and a lot of sob sessions with Justin to teach me to tackle what I can and not worry about what I can't. So at the time, our first goal was getting him out of the NICU. Then we graduated to physical, occupational and speech therapy. And with each milestone that was slow-going, God taught me that "slow-going" was just fine. And when each milestone was met... how sweet those moments have been.
So here we are... another milestone coming toward us. Elliot is about to turn three and is all set up for public school in the fall. This is one of those moments I fretted about during those first few days. What used to be listed under "I can't tackle right now" has suddenly been moved over to the "I can" column. It's exciting and intimidating at the same time. I can't wait to see how Elliot shines, because I know that's what he's going to do.
Though I have to admit, as I was preparing for his evaluations, the control freak in me crept back up again. I poured over Facebook groups, read blogs about inclusion and researched laws. I read stories about kids with Down syndrome learning how to brush their teeth at school instead of how to read. I read Facebook comments from moms whose school districts refused to try inclusion (which is illegal, by the way). I drove myself crazy researching IQ tests.
Then suddenly I realized I was developing a chip on my shoulder. I was anticipating the school district would fail Elliot before I even gave them a chance and I was exhausting myself in the process. So there I was at 2 a.m. the morning of his evaluation stressing myself out when God brought me to my knees again.
"When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul," Psalm 94:19 tells us. Goodness, I love that verse. The NASB version starts with "when my anxious thoughts multiply within me." I feel like it's so easy to go down the rabbit hole of worry. Having a child with special needs brings on a plethora of anxious thoughts and they can spread like wildfire in my brain. I've taught myself when I get overwhelmed to turn off the noise and pray. Just pray. Cry if I need to. Breathe a lot. And pray.
About a week after his evaluation, I attended Elliot's first ARD meeting. I was so nervous. I prepared to walk myself into a room full of naysayers, but knew God was in control. When it came time for me to introduce myself, I pulled out Elliot's latest school photo from our church's mother's day out program. I set it up on the table so they could see his big blue eyes through the whole meeting. There was a collective "awww" when they saw the picture. Elliot can charm a room that's he's not even in!
The meeting went well. I made known our goals for inclusion when he gets to kindergarten and was met with positive feedback. He's also going to be at the same school as his sister, which is such a blessing! I truly feel that we're off to a good start. I plan to stay vigilant and on top of his IEP, but isn't it so comforting to know that God already has plans in place? Isn't it so freeing to relinquish that control? It's hard to do, but once you are able to trust God completely, suddenly those anxious thoughts drift away.
So go ahead, let go of the glue bottle. It might get messy, but God's always in control.
