I'm stomping my feet tonight. I didn't want to leave that comfy river of denial. I didn't. I know I needed too. I did it. It still sucks.
This morning, I took Matthew (7yr old) to a follow up appointment with his psychologist. At the end, I asked some questions about the referral process here (we're in a fairly new city to us). For Noah (3yr old). For an ASD evaluation. *sigh*
It's hard to know if he's mimicking behaviours he's grown up watching his brother do, or if he really does fall on the spectrum.
Some days, he appears so neurotypical. Other days... well, not so much.
The covering his ears at normal sounds, the demands to cut all tags out of his clothes, screaming that they hurt. The speech regression he had around 18mos. The demands to have things the same way... It feels like an all to familiar path. One even though we've walked, and are still walking with Matthew, still seems so foreign. So uncomfortable. Down right scary even.
On the plus side (I guess if I need to find the silver lining this is it), Matthews doctor asked that we bring Noah with us to Matthews next follow up appointment in six weeks. We're truly by passing a huge wait list, and for that I'm grateful. I have no clue what he'll do with Noah at the next appointment. I'm sure afterwards I'll be cussing and screaming some more.
I'm still confused why the only question he asked was "Is he clumsy?"
It sucks going down this path in an unfamiliar city too. At least in our old city, I knew the process, the contacts. I knew the doctors, I knew what to expect. Here I don't. I feel like a fish flapping on dry land. Not sure where to go, or who to call.
This fucking sucks donkey balls.
(Yes, I just really said that.)