Letting Go

Halfway through the MomHeart Conference I was at not that long ago, I called Knut to check in with how everything was at home.  He normally checks in with me, and it was late, and I was wondering what was going on.  A weary Knut picked up the phone, perhaps more weary than discouraged.  David was falling apart.  The day had fallen apart.  It was really bad.  His voice was soft, and he just spilled all that had happened.  He didn’t want to.  But it’s hard to keep things from your best friend.  He was trying to keep this burden from me during my retreat, so I wouldn’t worry.  I usually would, but I don’t know if it was the team of people praying for me that weekend or what, but I just had this clarity and peace as I listened to how awful the time was going at home.  I was so full of inspiration from the conference that I nothing was too big to overcome.

One of the things my mom and I talked about after I got off the phone with Knut was the discussion, “What actually is going on with David?”  That’s a hard question for me to answer.  We have been very open about the fact that he has “issues” but we are very vague about what those issues are, especially online.  His alopecia is not able to be covered up, and for some reason, it has given validity to all of his other issues that aren’t quite so obvious.

We haven’t been fully open with our parents, not with anyone.  Close friends and relatives have gotten bits and pieces.  David has reports from a psychologist, a special ed therapist, occupational therapists, pediatrician, dermatologist, and a naturopath who is excellent with auto-immune disorders.  He does not see them all now, but each one has given us a piece to the puzzle.

Plus, there’s so many question marks on this puzzle, as so many of his issues overlap, like a huge web, and it’s hard to know what is connected to what and how something might be impacting something else.  There’s still some missing pieces, and I’m beginning to realize, science may not be able to tell us everything.  Maybe we are to live with some mysteries.  It’s the David puzzle.  We guard this David puzzle fiercely.

There are a few reasons for this.  First, all this information is still sinking in with Knut and I.  We are still processing.  Second, we are living on this spectrum of knowing the right thing to do.  On one end of this spectrum, we have the “our son is fine, treat him normally” attitude.  Most of his issues are manageable, and he will find ways to deal with it like a perfectly normal adult when he is older.  We don’t see him as a “special ed kid.”  We see him as our normal son who really struggles in some areas. We want the standard high, and we believe he is capable of great things.  On the other end of the spectrum, there is the reality that our son does have issues that effect him now.  He has some learning disabilities.  He has some disorders that require therapy to learn how to manage.  He cannot do many things that normal kids his age do…yet.  That’s not to say he will never be able to do them.

Not one of us has a crystal ball to know what the future holds.  But in all the reports I have gotten from various doctors, not one of them had concerns for his future.  He has such a large capacity for greatness in one sense, and in other things a very small capacity for tolerating.

But then again…don’t we all?

So on one end, we don’t want to taint our son, or give him some kind of permission to not strive for excellence, but on the other end of the spectrum, we need to recognize his limitations, and acknowledge all the hard work he puts into just doing “normal” things.  And as Knut and I are both each on this spectrum of our reality, and not living in one camp or the other, it’s hard to explain “David” to people who watch him for us.  It’s hard to share our whole heart, because our hearts are both equally divided.  It’s hart to share his whole story.  It’s something sacred.  It’s not something you just hand out.

My mom encouraged me to just write down everything from all the various doctors/specialists, and just lay it all out there so that people who help us with him can get the full picture.  I thought it was a great idea, and I’ve been working on a “David Care Packet” to have available to a small number of people who are in the “need to know” circle.

It’s been an emotional writing for me.  To see all these reports side by side is just heavy for my mama-heart.  I haven’t been able to write much else.

God knew this was hard for me, and blessed me with the most amazing talk with David this week before he went to bed.  It was just one of the deepest, most heartfelt conversations where I felt like I got through to him on a level I have never reached before.  I saw his amazing, strong heart once again that God has strengthened to do much of his overcoming thus far.  It was glorious.  The highs with this kid are just so high.

Getting the kids back on track, back in routine, and rested up from the hard weekend I was away took about a week.  After that, morning sickness had one last (hopefully) hurrah with me, and I was out for the count for the weekend.  Of course, with Knut home more on the weekends this time of year, he will keep us hoping and getting the kids out on skis in the snow every possible moment, and us running from place to place.

Then Knut will head off to his big finale race of the year that he’s been training for for the last few months.  I’m having a small pity party for myself that I can’t see him cross the finish line again this year as I think the kids (OK 1 kid in particular) cannot handle me being gone anymore than I already have been.

With all our plans and ideals, there  are times when you just have to let go, and live in the reality that God has given you.  It’s always an adjustment, but I’ve always noticed that once I take a moment and breathe in the life that God has chosen for me, I see all the beautiful things I wouldn’t have seen otherwise.