Today was our last speech therapy appointment for some months to come. We will now start a therapy unit of OT with a focus on sensory integration. Our SLP says that she needs a new basis for commencing her therapy and sensory integrations shall provide this basis. She will be our therapist again after this break, thankfully!
We spoke about many things today that were on her mind, like Sunny's talker and how we get him to use it more at home. Or how exhausting it must be for me to read books to Sunny ALL. DAY. LONG. every day and that I probably will be glad when school starts again the week after next week. And yes, I am exhausted and will be so glad when we have our regular schedule again. I know she thinks about Sunny often and how she can help him to improve his communication skills. She also made him say "Määäääh" for the first time.
This woman has become an important person in my life. She always gets me immediately and sometimes she did not only do therapy with Sunny but she also helped me in so many ways with her insight, her experience of life and her empathy that she became a very valued person for me.
So today when we parted and we had to say good-bye (and, if you have been following this blog for some time, you know what is going to come) my eyes welled up with tears.
SLP: Oh, don't cry! We are going to see us again, remember?
Me: Sure, but you know me, I cry all the time!
SLP: So you need another holiday after school starts again!
Me: This pain is rooted so deep inside me that no holiday will ever be able to heal it.
Her looks spoke more than words.
On the way home, in the car, I thought about this. Why do I always cry in situations like these? When someone tells me that I am an awesome mom and that they do not know if they could do it. When they congratulate me on things that are just normal in my opinion (like taking care of my son the way I do it) but obviously a big deal for anyone else. It always feels weird to me because I believe that what I do is just natural for any mom (but I am aware it is not). When friends and strangers are kind.
I am not sure. Maybe it is because it always makes me aware of how our lives are NOT normal when it is MY normal and the only thing I know. Maybe it stirs up emotions that I try to keep under control. I think of myself as a rather positive person but my heart is sometimes so heavy and moments like these just make it spill over. Sometimes just one word is enough to make it overflow or burst.
I also thought about that second last line from "Welcome to Holland" by Emily Perl Kingsley that says
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
Is that really true? Will this pain always be there? Deep down inside me somewhere, lingering, always sitting in a corner of my heart, waiting to emerge on a suitable (or not so suitable) situation? Will I still feel this pain when I will be 50, 60, 70? Will it fade eventually, become softer and not as sharp as it still is sometimes?
I do not feel it often, but I know it is there because it reminds me from time to time that it is still with me. Maybe it will change over the time and grow with me as I grow from this experience that is our life. Or maybe it will stay as it is forever.
Either way, there is just one thing I know: I love Sunny more than anything else and that helps me overcome this pain every single time. This love heals my heart.