Here it comes again

It seems this grief is cyclical.    I will be doing fine, thinking I'm fine, that I've made peace, pushing forward, for days and weeks, holding onto hope for our future, and out of no where comes the wave of grief, knocking me down.    It comes when I haven't slept enough, am fighting a bug, whenever my defenses are down.  

It's here.    The only difference this time is that I know it will pass.  I know I will forgive myself again and cling on to new hope and be OK.    Before, I really didn't think I'd ever rise above the pain, the anger.


The boys 2 year appointment is coming up. I find myself fantasizing about smart ass things to say to the doctor when the subject of vaccinations comes up.   All the things I'd like to say, about how I trusted him, about how with 1 in 31 boys becoming autistic, he should be educating himself on less rigorous vaccination schedules and immunocompromised children.   On diets and treatment recommendations to help those of us affected.  About how mothers trust him, and he needs to be trustworthy.

Maybe I am wrong and he will say the right thing, or comforting things.   But I doubt it. Our only dialogue since all this has been through a nurse, and he told her to tell me that he will "grow out" of it. 

Such blatant disregard and disrespect.  Disrespect for this illness, disease, whatever you want to call it, that has us tortured as parents, watching our boy suffer to break through his inflammed little brain on a daily basis.  Disregard for the hours and hours of therapy we're putting in, the countless strangers coming through our home every week, the expensive treatments we're trying ON OUR OWN because medicine hasn't caught up with the Moms of autism.

Not looking forward to this visit.