My Wyatt

My son's name is Wyatt.

From time to time I will write about him because so much of him affects everything about me.

My baby was born 14 weeks early - this means we missed the ENTIRE third trimester.  Men might not know truly what that means but women, especially mothers, will understand instantly the hell I suddenly found myself in.  We spent more time in the hospital then I ever want to remember.  But I do, every single day I do.

I never really knew what we would be facing down the line.  I always made decisions based upon the fact that I wanted to know what the long term effects of drugs were on him that we were using or different machines but I think at some point I was so busy fighting to make sure that everyone (doctors, nurses, therapists) understood that I would FORCE them to do their job to more then the best of their ability I didn't stop and think.

He will be three years old in 34 days.  In 10 days it will make 2 years since we left the hospital.

Now I have to truly look to the future and less to the past.

My little boy has feeding problems, swallowing problems, major sensory issues, global developmental delays, a brain that is only half the size it is supposed to be... and of course the newest diagnosis:

My son has Autism.

I knew he did.  I think if I asked any parents of children with Autism they would tell me the same thing:  they knew, long before the doctors or therapists wanted to confirm it, they KNEW.

I had to fight with the doctors to finally diagnosis it.  They wanted to wait.  Oh they couldn't possibly do it before he was 3 years old.  Oh it could be all of these others things.

I knew.

I blame myself even though 'all the books' tell you not to.  I wonder if I had been able to keep him longer inside if it would have prevented this.  I mean he wasn't done 'baking' just yet.  I will always wonder 'what If'.

I have changed my future goals more before of him.  I have changed my world to make sure that I can be there completely for him because it is just he and I.

Some days are harder then others.  Some days I cry while he naps because I don't know what to do for him.  Other days I just hold him while he squeezes me tight and I whisper into his ear how much I love him.

I am not sure what kind of day today will be but I have hope that I will make it through the day without too many tears.