I am tired of advocating, of being different, of medical and developmental jargon.
Today I wonder what “normal” would be like: how it would be to go to soccer games instead of Special Olympics; how it would be if my boys had neighborhood friends.
I wonder if we’ll ever have a month without five or six doctor’s appointments; if we will ever not have a bin full of meds to dole out every day.
Today I hurt. I hurt for the child I have to hold down when it takes three pokes to draw blood; for the child with surgery scars all over his body.
I hurt for the child who doesn’t get playdates; who has never been invited to a birthday party.
Tomorrow I will find my joy, and revive my smile. Tomorrow I’ll put my big girl panties and supermom cape back on, with an upbeat attitude and happy heart as usual.
But today I am tired; I wonder; I hurt.