With vomit and poo, what's a girl to do

Lately, I've dealt with a ton of poo and a bucket of vomit. O'kay, I exaggerate. It was probably only a cup or two of vomit, but I'm standing by the ton of poo.


Please bear with me. Writing is therapeutic, but reading this may not be. Feel free to stop right now although I would like you to read the last paragraph. Thanks.


Jakey tends to be constipated ... all of the time. Well, until he isn't, and then watch out. We try to manage his meds so that it doesn't get too bad, but it's really hard to balance. Too much? Diarrhea. Too little? Oh, my. If it's been a while, he may have poo the size of an actual baseball or once it was slightly larger than a soda can. This is not exaggeration. Each poo is usually so big that we can't flush it (I am so sorry, Great Wolf Lodge). I feel for my poor boy. He will do anything to hold in a poo, and when stuff comes out. He wants it out NOW! So we have poo, BIG poo, on the ground because he does not like it in his pull-up. And, how does he get it there? With his fingers. So, now poo all over the fingers, hands, and (ugh) under the fingernails. But, he doesn't like poo on his hands so it ends up on his clothes, his body, whatever he is playing with at the time.


Now, please do not say that I need to watch him more closely. I do. He is incredibly quick. Amazingly so. And so independent that usually won't ask for help. Just takes care of it himself. Ah, poo!


Then there's poor Finn and his poopy pebbles. He really only likes to drink milk, and that's the side effect. Except for the other day when I brilliantly decided to give him pear juice. I was so excited that he liked it. While he was playing nicely, I changed Jakey's poopy pull-up. Never forgetting to scrub his hands, fingernails, sometimes legs, etc. Now, Dyson seemed to be licking something brown off of the couch. I scanned my memory. How? Jakey never touched the couch. Then ... OH MY ... Finny is jumping on the couch and with every jump, liquid poo squirts out of his shorts. That's what Dyson, the dog, was licking.


Now, I had a choice. Try to change him where we were or carry him to the bathroom and get poo all over me. I'm not saying that I made the best choice, but I really didn't want to get poo all over me. First, I kept him still while dabbing up the poo puddles. Then, I made an error. I laid him down to change his diaper. Liquid poo shot out the back of his diaper and formed a puddle on the couch. Yes, brilliance at work. I was finally able to clean him up with no mess by keeping him standing while I removed the offending diaper and wiped up the brown sheen covering him. Lots of cleaning after that ... Finn, the couch, me.


This morning I had to deal with vomit. Chunky milk vomit. Finny must have thrown up during the night and fell right back to sleep. All over his blanky, his bedding, his jammies, his hair. Poor baby. I felt so bad for him. He was fine though. Great time playing. Nice, long nap. Then, Mommy made another error. Oops. He loves to spin so I had him in a big toy tub and spun him around. He loved it until he didn't. Fortunately, it mostly ended up in the tub (still need to clean that out).


Back to non-bodily-fluid stuff ... Now, and extra dose of poo, but not the bodily kind. After a rollercoaster of a ride, we have been told that the iPad giveaway is bogus. It's all rather mysterious and weird. I don't think I have the whole story, and I'm too worn out to go into the details. I apologize if anyone gave money to Marissa's Bunny. They claim that they will return donations if asked. If they don't, please let me know, and I will see what I can do. Two of the families are doing what they can to make the best of this situation, please check out Little Wonders and Blogzilly for more details.

Doppelganger

Every once in a while, my mind wanders ahead to an unknown, mysterious time in our lives -- the future, more specifically Jakey's future. What will he look like? be like? Will his mannerisms have advanced? Will he be potty-trained? Still have echolalia? Where will he live? What will he do? Will he be able to communicate better? more than his needs? Will he have a job? Mostly I wonder if he will be happy and if he will continue to live with us. Ms. A, his teacher, has stated that she thinks he will be able to live in a group home. Will he? Will we want him to? I try not to go here that often. It's an empty place filled with conjecture and fear.

[What's echolalia? Echolalia is an unconventional verbal behavior that is common among children with autism spectrum disorders. Echolalia occurs when the child repeats verbal information stated by others (e.g., people's conversational exchanges, videos, books read aloud, songs, etc.).]

I long for a day when I may meet another mom who has a son like Jake, but her son is older, and she has been through it all. I want to hear her stories and tell her Jake's. Someone who can unveil some of the mystery, give some hope, and help with realistic expectations. Someone who can listen and talk and truly understand. Empathy given and taken.

Today is Baby Day at the Movies in Kirkland, and Finn and I made the 25-minute trek to join a bunch of moms and babies in laughter while watching Couples Retreat, fun flick. A group of teens/young adults with special needs were there to see Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.

One of the young men caught my eye, and I almost fell over. He looked like an older version of Jakey, same hair, similar face and eyes. He even had some of Jakey's quirks. Echolalia was present. The young man repeatedly said, "I love you," "I love me," and various sounds that I couldn't decipher.

He was handsome and sweet, and I just wanted to go up and give him a hug. I wanted to talk to him and find out all about his life. I kept staring at him and smiling. To excuse my staring, I told the woman next to me that he resembled my son, but she didn't understand that the resemblance went beyond looks.

The young man's companion was brusque with him when they walked up to the window to purchase their tickets. I can't deny that I wanted to deck him. Somewhat out of place since I've been brusque with Jakey on numerous occasions.

By the end of the movie, my mind drifted back to Jakey's doppelganger and Jakey's future. I wiped my tears, sniffed a bit, and packed up Finn so that we would be home before the kids' buses arrived. Tears and sniffles all the way home.

Another day, another punch to the heart

The hardest part about today was trying to figure out why I was so upset about something that I already knew. Today, Brian and I (and Finn) went to the Autism Center at Children's Hospital for Jake's evaluation results. No surprise, he has been diagnosed with autistic disorder. It doesn't change who Jake is. The doctor told me two weeks ago that they were going to give him this diagnosis. His neurologist diagnosed him with autism last spring. And, yet, the only thing that I wanted to do was weep, bawl, cry, snot and all. My insides were writhing with sorrow; still are actually. I've thought of little else all afternoon and evening. Why?

At one point, I stood in the kitchen and stared out the window, didn't see anything. "Why?" echoing in my tired little mind. I've known. I've known for a long time. I saw nothing until I looked down at the golden lid on Finn's Enfamil powder.

"Because it's your baby."

Just writing it now, I choke on the sobs. Because he's my baby. We've mourned and rejoiced with and over Jake since that plastic stick declared that I was carrying him in my womb. We've mourned and rejoiced. We will continue to mourn and rejoice. Because he's my baby.

Tonight I asked God if that is how he responds to our pain and joy. Because we're his babies.

That would be a beautiful place to end tonight, but I need to add some garland, something that touched my heart. The doctor gave us a preliminary report to take home. Here is the second paragraph:

"Jacob has many notable strengths. Jacob is a happy, content child. He is loving, and enjoys cuddling or leaning on his dad. He tries to be funny (says "funny" and laughs). He tries to be independent in many things. He also has a caring and loving family who is committed to finding appropriate interventions for his needs."

How many people have such wonderful words written into their medical file? Jakey does. And, this isn't the only one.