Trying to think things out when you’re sick is a bad idea. (I woke up with a sore throat and a cough and my ears hurt) But I can’t help myself. When I picked Beanie up at school today, the teacher needed to talk to me. Seems he is having some behavior issues, which, truth be told, is not a surprise.
Beanie hasn’t had an easy go of it, and while I may joke occasionally about him being a pain, there really are things going on health-wise that we haven’t figured out. I’m not talking ADD or ADHD or even Autism- I am (almost) certain none of those things are our issues. But I strongly suspect allergies, food sensitivity and sensory integration problems. We have an appointment in October, and it can’t get here fast enough.
When Beanie was born, everything made him cry. Everything. Nursing, my milk, formula, having his diaper changed, baths, towels, getting dressed, temperature changes, carseats, riding in the car, baby swings- you name it, he hated it. I’m being only slightly flip. Beanie cried, seriously cried, for months and months and months. The only time he wasn’t crying, he was asleep. And even that was fitfull and light. The only way he could fall asleep, was not in my arms, but swaddled as tightly as we could, in his crib, with a low light and a fan on. Then, he would sleep.
When he was about three months, we accidentally found a formula that soothed his tummy enough that he only cried about 2/3 as much- and we used it until he was 18 months old. It cost us $400 a month. The doctors did all kinds of tests, including an ultra-sound and ECG on his little heart. Nothing showed up abnormal, but my mothers’ intuition has always told me, something is not right.
Recently, my cousin in California called my attention to a book called Too Loud, Too Bright, Too Fast, Too Tight: What to Do If You are Sensory Defensive in an Overstimulating World. I am plowing through it- it’s the first time I’ve ever read anything that sounds like MY child.
The thing is, normal things, everyday things that other people either assimilate in their environment, or else tune out, Beanie cannot do. Rubbing with a towel after a bath therefore becomes torture , tags or crooked seams in his clothes are not just the nuscence they are for most pre-schoolers, they become like a TV, Radio and Vacuum on all at once. Full blast.
The other night, he was in the bathtub, and both his brother and sister had already been plucked out and jammied, and I went in to grab Bean. He was lying on his back in the warm water, eyes closed, ears submerged, silently floating. In his whole entire life, I have never seen him so… so… relaxed. Ever.
Underwater, there was no sound, only his breathing. His eyes closed, there was no input, the water surrounded his little body, and he found peace. Maybe for the first time ever.
I started to cry, and left him to his peace.