Being a parent of a child with SM can be extremely isolating. It is impossible for people to truly understand what you are going through. It is heart wrenching, stressful and frustrating all at the same time. Children with SM do not have any physical traits that scream "Hi, I have a disability." While I am extremely grateful that this is not the case, it also makes it very difficult for people to even understand what your child or you are dealing with on a daily basis. It is not a disorder that is well known like autism or that there are continuous fundraisers or celebrity endorsements for. The amount of times I hear "Oh he's just shy" or "He'll grow out of it." is too many to count. My family is thankfully so supportive and understanding, but my in-laws still question me about his therapy and why it is necessary. I cannot tell you how frustrating it is to have people in your own family doubt what you are doing to try to help your own child. They are convinced he'll be fine and that he is just shy. It makes me want to scream. Unless you live it, you just don't get it!
Anyways as a mom of a child with SM, there are incredible highs and incredible lows. There is nothing better than helping your child break through a barrier of fear. When Thomas started waving and speaking in stores, it was incredible and such a huge high. If you are a parent of someone with SM, you know though that you will fall from that high eventually and probably sooner than later. Just when you think your child is doing so well, there are the inevitable set backs which unavoidably just feel like a punch in the gut.
Today was one of those days.
I took Thomas's folder out of his backpack after school today like always. They usually have a craft in there or something informational for the parents to read or sign. Today I pulled out a cute pink valentine card that Thomas had decorated. Inside it said "I love you to pieces." It was very sweet, but like most preschool presents I receive, they always put a picture of your little preschooler on the front for you to remember how happy and cute they were at this age. Well, on the front of my son's sweet v-day card is a picture of him looking completely emotionless and miserable. I tried to hold back tears as my son presented me this card he was so proud of. It looked like all his preschool pictures from last year before we got treatment. We've made a lot of progress this year, but this picture is just a loud, obnoxious reminder of how far we have to go.
I'll hang it on the fridge for a few days to show him how much I love his craft, but then it will be put away, not to be looked at for a long time. Sad, but true.