Eli the Little Giant

All I wanted to do was get out of the store. I just wanted to leave. But for whatever reason my cashier was the slowest cashier, taking extra care to be sure everything was placed in the bag a certain way, very methodical, very precise. 

Looking back on it now, the behavior seems familiar. 

He wasn't remotely phased that my barely-three-year-old was screaming at the top of his lungs, hitting his brother, thrashing his head back because he had seen a Thomas the Train book and I hadn't given it to him. I honestly don't know if he really noticed but the woman at the other check-out, there was no question she noticed. 

Her eyes pierced me. That look on her face - that look of disgust. She wanted me to know she thought I was the worst mother on the planet in that moment. She didn't look away when my eyes met hers, she just let them dig deeper, shamelessly letting me know how much she thought I was failing. 

In that moment I felt broken, and helpless, and defeated, and angered because why couldn't I stop this? Why couldn't I keep him from acting that way? Why couldn't I calm my own son down?

I was failing.

When Dr T first brought up the need for an evaluation I didn't know how to react. I didn't see it coming. I just ... I hadn't thought about it. I really just hadn't. And even when we went forward, I was convinced that this was just me doing everything wrong as his mom. That I was failing and unable and unsure and not a good mom to my littlest little. I thought we would come out of that evaluation with no diagnosis but a mother who was unable. 

In the moment that doctor put her papers on her lap, when she put her hands together and leaned in towards me, I knew that what she was about to tell me was not what I was certain was going to be said.  I knew in that very moment that my heart was breaking - right then. I knew that our family was changing.

I knew it during the evaluation. I saw things I hadn't noticed before while she was playing with my baby. When she broke it down for me, I knew she was right, I had seen exactly what she had seen and before then I just hadn't.

And for a split second I felt relief. 

For a split second I didn't feel like a horrible mother who couldn't understand her son. For just a moment I didn't feel like I was incapable or unworthy or unable. For just a second I felt like I could breathe again.

It has hurt so much to see the stares, and to have to apologize, and to have to explain why we don't usually bring him to people's houses. It has been so hard to watch a meltdown that makes me feel helpless and inadequate as a mom. 

I have just been so tired.

We have always called Eli "mighty", "strong-willed", "little giant". He is strong and determined. Fearless - sometimes too fearless. 

He brings so much joy. He is happy and fun and funny and loving - except in the times when he isn't. He is always at my side. I am his safety which is the very reason I couldn't see it. I am his comfort. He is mine. 

This begins a new journey. Little by little we will enter into his world and little by little we will bring him into ours. 

Eli is our little giant. Fearless. Able. Determined. How incredible it will be to watch him thrive.