Those 7 Letters....

Life made no sense to me until at about 36 years old when 7 little letters made it all make sense to me.

I was sitting EXHAUSTED in the Floating Hospital Children At Tufts in Boston, at our Behavioral Pediatricians office watching my son play with leggos. We were there to get the results of my son's Neuropsych evaluations.

I was anxious.

He was 7 years old and oblivious - or so I thought.

He said "Mama where's the Dr. Lady?"

He always called Dr. Bresnahan his "Dr. Lady"

Reassuring him she'd be there soon (he always got anxious and overwhelmed with waiting) and then said: "Ok, will she make my head and body better this time?"

He barely looked up from the leggo table. I stared at him, my heart broke; this little boy knew something was wrong with him. He wanted his body and brain to be "better". I had NO IDEA what she'd say when she came in so all I said was:

"Buddy, I think so." How does a mom respond to that?

A memory.

A point in time forgotten.

Until Facebook reminded me of it this morning and it all came flooding back.

Yes we got answers that day for him, but we got answers for me too.

See it was THIS day sitting across from Dr. Bresnahan's desk where she leaned in, took my hand after reading Ben's testing results and said to me:

"You know Ben's diagnosis and what he has is likely genetic, passed on from either you or his dad - maybe both. Which one of you has ADHD?"

It was the first time I had ever been told this could be #genetic. I told her I didn't know; neither his dad nor I had ever been tested. To this day, I don't know why she did what she did next. She was a behavioral pediatrician, nevertheless she said "Hold on, I'm going to grab my colleague who did Ben's testing. Would you be willing to sit with him and run through some preliminary evaluation questions? It wont be a full eval but can give us insight into maybe where Ben may have inherited his traits."

Off I went. Blindly.

When the quick analysis and results came in she reviewed them with me: "Not sure about Dad but based on this it looks like Ben likely takes after you. Based on this I'd suspect you had ADHD, SPD. I think you should get a full eval" and she handed me recommendations of adult versions of doctors to go talk to and a tissue.

Because I was a blubbering mess. For at least 30 years I spent asking myself these questions:

1. What is wrong with me?

2. Am I really as horrible as they say I am?

3. Why can't I sit still?

4. Why can't I stop talking back?

5. Why is math so hard, why am I so stupid?

6. Why a I so lazy?

7. Am I really a terrible, stupid person?

8. Why cant i just DO the things I need to DO?

9. Why is everything SO FREAKING HARD for me, but easy for everyone else?

10. Why does it take me so long to relax if at all?

11. Why is it so hard to make friends?

12. Why do am I so clumsy?

13. Why do I always break things?

14. Why am I always so impatient and angry? Why do I explode and why can't I control my emotions? Why do I FEEL everything?

15. Why do these freaking tags bother me? Why does the line in my sock make me want to peel my feet off?

and soooo many more....terrible questions all got answered with (7) Seven little letters:

ADHD & SPD.

Suddenly my life made sense.

My son's life made sense.

and I was a blubbering mess but somehow I felt lighter, seen.

I spent the next 10 years post diagnosis still asking those questions as well as oodles of time and money to prove to myself and everyone around me I was capable, I was smart, I was able-bodied......

Spent those same 10 years trying to run and hid from my 7 letters - praying no one would see - until I could no longer run.

Spent those 10 years bouncing - literally and figuratively between jobs, homes, educational endeavors you name it. Spent 10+ years trying to "pretend" my 7 letters would not define me because society proved it was not ready to understand.

That was made clear by the battles with broken educational systems, broken medical systems and broke work systems designed to keep my son and me in shadows - so I did - for me anyway.

Until I no longer could.

I love all my children, each neurodivergent unique one with every cell of my being. But I will always be grateful for the one who made me a boy mama and healed me in ways I'm not sure I would have otherwise been able to.

To the boy, now a man who in seeking answers for his needs; found answers to my own.

I am grateful for that day so many years ago when my life made sense.

I am proud of the work I accomplished after that.

but I am MOST proud of no longer running and hiding.

Too many years I spent in the shadows. Whispering diagnosis to teachers and doctors as if it was some terrible thing. Too many years ALL of my children spent in educational systems too broken to support them. Too many years I "masked up" and plowed through each day building, navigating and creating systems I KNEW didn't work for me and would NEVER work for people like my own children.

SO. MUCH. TIME. - gone.

At 49 years old I still have enough life in me to do everything in my power to challenge these broken systems, challenge the status quo, rebuild so that people like myself, my children and your's never have to have the journey we had.

Thanks Facebook for the journey down memory lane and reminding me why this work I do now - is all that matters.