Happy Growth Day

Two years ago I was climbing my way out of a desperate pit and attempting to claim some hope by writing this blog. If you didn't follow the hyperlink, the short version is we had survived some hard years with Silas, our son #6, and were finally getting some help. At age 4, my son's behaviors had gotten extreme enough that we were seeking treatment with a local psychiatrist.

Back then I wrote: While it should probably scare me that I need to take my 4 year old to a psychiatrist, what I really feel is hope. I hope that the chemistry in his brain just needs a little tweaking. I hope that our family can stop walking on eggshells around him. I hope that when I pick him up from school his teachers don't have to pull me aside for the daily report. I hope that our little two stop screaming when he approaches them with one of his intense in your face hugs...I also hope his older brothers won't have to scream his name to make him stop. I hope Canaan doesn't cry so much from all the assaults. I hope he quits calling me mean-ie and poopy. I hope I don't have to match his intensity to get him to obey. I hope his Kids Worship teachers will tell me that he fit right in. I hope he will not freak out because of the orange straw when we are out of blue straws. I hope other moms on the playground quit staring. I hope his shake will stop. I hope he will make friends. I hope he will sleep past 5:30. I hope he will be proud of himself. I hope he will know we tried everything we could to bring back the sweet boy we know is inside.

Hope. Hope. Hope. I said it over and over again. Hope is the anticipation of good things coming- hope is the anticipation of relief, redemption, reconciliation, and all those holy words of peace. Today, after two years with his psychiatrist that holiness was felt, Silas was discharged.

When I read back over the above list, I can see how much he's changed. That's the beauty of blogging. I can read back over what we survived and realize, in comparison, how good things are now. The relief is palpable.

For sure, it was a long two years. There was a time I remember googling "How do you know when your child needs inpatient psych care?" because his behaviors had amped up even more and taken a really scary turn. It culminated one day when I picked him up from school and on the drive home he kept unbuckling his carseat, kicking the car windows, throwing his shoes at me while I drove,  and screaming like a demon. Thankfully it turned out to be side effects from a new medication we were trying.

In total, we tried 4 different medications with many many trials of different dosages for each one. One was horrible, two did nothing, but this last one finally created some stability.

I know that some may say I am oversharing- and I totally am-  but I am doing so intentionally. There is a huge stigma around mental health and I don't think it will go away until we talk about it. There is also a huge stigma around seeking medication for kids, so much so that it can keep families from seeking help. Instead they stay lonely,  imprisoned by their children, lectured by friends and family for not disciplining their kids, and weighed down from the guilt and shame of it all.

Please hear me say that I am not claiming some miracle that Silas' ADHD went away or that he no longer fits the Oppositional Defiance Disorder (ODD) characteristics. That would be a lie and spending one afternoon with our family would quickly call me out. But, I am saying that he is stable. I am saying he no longer needs the specialized care of a psychiatrist. I am saying our family has found relief because of the medication. He will continue on with his meds under the care of our regular pediatrician. And in the mental health realm, stability with medication equals success. There should be no stigma in that.

Is he still moody at times? Absolutely. Is he rowdy sometimes? For sure. Is he stubborn? Oh my goodness, yes. Even with out his dual diagnosis he still has the diagnosis of being a six year old boy. But now he is also hilarious, and fun, and loving, and a beast on the soccer field. He can be talked down when he amps up, and be given consequences without raging. He shares with his siblings and actually sits still and looks at books. He has a best friend who thinks he's hilarious and his brothers aren't afraid of him anymore. He is a favorite playmate of choice for his younger sister. Our hope was fulfilled, our relief is found, and I anticipate even more great things for him and our family.

Just tonight I was working on his kindergarten homework with him and he blew me away with everything he knew. He read 5 sight words that I had no clue he understood. I took those words and created a sentence for him to try:

"I go to see the dog."

And he read it!

With 8 kids, I don't remember everyone's first word, or when they took their first steps. I can barely keep their birthdays straight, especially if I have to come up with the month, day AND year. But I will never forget the very first sentence Silas ever read.

I challenged him and continued to write, "I go to see the cat." He read it. "I go to see the bird." He read it. On and on with fish, worm, and lizard. He read it all. I was so proud. And he was beaming. I gathered his older brothers so he could show them his new skill.  They couldn't have been a sweeter audience. We all started clapping for him, and then Judah started singing "happy birthday" but changed the words to "Happy growth day to you. Happy growth day to you..." I don't know where he heard that, but I love it so much. I think Judah just created our newest family tradition.

Two years ago the hardest thing I prayed when I was pouring my heart out in that blog was the one line of,  "I hope he will be proud of himself."

And today that happened.

Happy growth day to you. Happy growth day to you. Happy growth day dear Silas.
Happy growth day to you....and many more.

To: My forever wild man. I love you so much.