Evaluation.

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Brad and I both have gone back and forth on if/when I could... should... write about this topic. It's not that we're living in denial or being all aloof or anything like that. We're just cautious. Even though I technically don't have hundreds of followers, I do have a lot of lurkers (and I mean that in a non-creepy way. just people who read and don't comment). So for that reason, for our family's own privacy, I haven't talked much about what's been going on behind the scenes. We needed some time to process.

But there have been some challenges.

Everyone faces challenges, obviously. It's different for everyone. For me, though, the emotional toll it takes is magnified when it deals with your baby. It does more than make you worry; it pierces your soul. Everything in you aches for your child to be okay. To understand that what we choose to do for them is just that... for them. And hoping that those decisions are the right ones.

Today marked the beginning of a new journey for our family.

It's no secret that Noah still doesn't talk much. If at all. It also doesn't help that he's the size of a 3 year old with the vocabulary of a one year old.

But it's more than that.

He doesn't really do much pretend play, outside of playing with his cars/trains/etc. He doesn't follow directions well. The back-and-forth in play is minimal. Socially, he still mainly plays around kids, not much with kids. His skill levels are behind... he doesn't blow bubbles, drink from a straw, or proudly show us a toy/drawing/anything. There are some red flags there, that we were already aware of, yet not quite certain they're worth worrying about yet.

This morning, he had his Early Intervention evaluation. The ladies were, of course, very sweet and patient with him. He hadn't had breakfast yet, so they waited on him to eat (because before breakfast, it was a waste of their time. lol). He interacted well, decent eye contact, smiled, all that. One went through her repertoire of games, while they both asked some questions. We answered as thoroughly and as honestly as we could.

After they were through, the ladies proceeded to give us their assessment. We weren't shocked to hear that he's behind, however the extent to which he's delayed was hard to hear. Developmentally, he's falling around 15 or 16 months. I have to admit, that pill was difficult to swallow.

We discussed some of his mannerisms, and at this point, even though she sees some of the red flags, she's not convinced of autism. Basically, we were already on the same page as her with what we've observed about him (and being on the same page with them was a biggie for me). The problem is that none of us are sure about why he's behind. Because even though he displays some of the warning signs, there are plenty of other areas in which he clearly counteracts them. She's definitely apprehensive to label him right now. We all agreed it's only fair to give him time to catch up. She encouraged us that he has an amazing foundation to work with, and that she expects to see some really great progress with him. She assured us that he's obviously a very healthy, happy little guy. He just has some catching up to do.

But of course, in my head, my momma brain is running a mile a minute... "Did I do something wrong?", "Have I not challenged him enough?", "Have I baby'd him too much, thus elliminating the need to talk?", "Was it those times I forgot to take my prenatals?", "Is it genetic?", "What if we can't afford therapy? How will we pay for it?", "Is it something in his environment?", "What if it's not me/us at all? What if it's something else?" I try not to let my mind wander there too much. Over the years, I've gotten pretty good at controlling where and how far to let myself go, in terms of mental/emotional stuff. Because if I go too far, it's not going to do anyone any good, especially Noah. And right now, I have to put on my game face. Not just for me, but for my family.

We all coped differently after this was all over. Noah was clearly pooped out and basically lounged around for a couple hours before going down for an early nap.

Brad passed out on the couch, almost immediately after they left. He's always done this when he's overwhelmed. When we went for our first ultrasound, he slept afterwards. When we found out we were having a boy, he slept afterwards. It's his way of processing. He has a lot on his shoulders already, with work and being the sole provider of our little family. But to add this to it, wondering how it's all going to work out, is a lot to handle. Right now, he's at the driving range.

And me? I blog. :)

What I have to remember is that this is all not an accident.

God has a reason. He has a plan. I have no idea what He intends to do at this moment, but I do know this... He is good. He is holy. And He loves us.

He is bigger than anything life has to throw at us.

I have to trust that He is perfectly capable, that He has my baby in the palm of His hands. It's just another valley that we're walking through, but I know that our joy comes with the morning (Psalm 30:5). His grace is sufficient for me, and His power is made perfect in my weakness (2 Cor 12:9). So while I could sit here and worry, I'm choosing to rely on His strength and wisdom to get us through this season. I'm choosing joy. I have an amazing support system... a mom who is no stranger to child development; family members with listening ears; friends who lend their wisdom and encouragement; a sweet-natured little boy who somehow knows when I need to rock him like a baby, quiet tears streaming down my cheeks; and a husband who loves me during (and in spite of) my moments of "Why the heck can't anything ever be easy?!" :)

So yeah. We'll figure this out. We'll get through it. But for the sake of honesty, and for documenting our family's journey, I felt it was time to share a little.

Keep my baby in your prayers. I'd appreciate it.

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