Son of my Joy

Mysterious Child's Mom writes again.

In the Biblical Story of Jacob; his wife Rachel dies soon after her second son is born and says to name him "Benjamin .. son of my joy". I have chosen to call my son that in these blogs because I have often thought it was the perfect name for him.
Not only was he long awaited, wanted and an answer to my mother's heart ... he was such a funny, silly, lovely child .. and still is.

People who know our family .. know that Ben is usually the child that brings laughter and drama to our lives. The stories of his antics will show up from time to time in my blogs. It's usually him ... he's the one who brings joy to many. He's funny. He's dramatic. He's expressive. He's sensitive and a child of joy.

Sounds wonderful, right?
Yeah... not always. This is about real life. He brings me alot of worry. He sometimes knows something is different and he gets depressed. He has feelings of insecurity and fear that raise their ugly heads at the most inopportune times.

Doctors are quick to say... meds. I resist.. I want him to be who he's created to be.. not a flat, controlled version. I like who he is, mostly. I search for what is right for him ... I will try many things.

I try to focus on the positive in his life ...
he is Benjamin.

The Mystery Begins....

Mysterious Child's Mom writes again.

The perfect baby boy, didn't come home with us. He had changed. It took us some time to figure out it wasn't a flu or being tired or normal baby issues.

We started to notice that he wasn't trying to speak. We use American Sign Language at home (ASL) so we thought he was just doing well at that. We noticed he couldn't walk up or down slopes. His ability to understand when he was dizzy was somehow limited to when he'd spun so long he couldn't even lift his head. He had a strange facination with tactile surfaces... licking screen doors, phones and such. He reacted in panic to other feelings like vasaline or mushy peas. Gagged on foods that were soft and wet.

He loved his soother (nuk) and when he was upset he calmed immediately with aid of it. He dragged his blanket everywhere for security and it seemed to have such drastic calming effect.

All of these "quirks" started to poke and prod at our hearts. Slowly, dawning on us, maybe there was something different about our baby boy. Parents don't want to entertain that thought... so we made excuses. After a time, we started to look into what the "quirks" were from.

A new path, a strange place, the beginning.

How did this all Begin?

We've come so far that looking back is to remember how hard we tried to have this child, a son. Infertility had been a long standing part of our quest to build a family and stood in the way of "choosing" when and where children would be added to our home.

When our beautiful middle child, Ben, was added to our family we were more than excited. He had beautiful blue eyes, full, chubby cheeks and a wonderful smile. He truly was the "son of my joy". He was the perfect baby. He ate when I fed him, he slept when I laid him down, he was content to play when it was time for that.
He was healthy, happy and beautiful.

When he was 8 months old, I discovered that I was pregnant again. Both thrilled and shocked, I knew this baby boy was going to be a great brother to my coming child. It wasn't long before fear threatened my confidence in how my next child and Ben would relate to each other.

Ben was 18 months old when he developed a strange and unexplained rash on his arms, legs and face. It was raised and purplish red, wart like. We took him to the hospital 3 times before they took him in to admit him. He had a fever that was out of control and he was very lethargic.

Meningitis was whispered in the halls. We were sent to isolation together with my new baby boy who was just days old. No one seemed to know what this was. They eventually ruled out Meningitis and controlled his fever after several days. In hind site, I've been told it was probably some kind of virus. Those days in the hospital were days of change, none of us could foresee.

The child that left there, was not my perfect baby anymore. He was changed. A new part of our journey was beginning.