All About The Boy

A whole blog post devoted to him, and it's not about the crazy way he came into this world! But believe it or not, this past week I've been much more concerned about my little guy than Diva Girl.

Yes, I'm a bit paranoid when it comes to Robbie. I worry about his development, like all moms who have a firstborn on the spectrum. I remember when developmental milestones were just something fun and new...now I find myself saying things like "He can clap! Good gross motor imitation!" Luckily, Rascal has given me no cause for concern. He smiles at everyone he meets(and I swear he flirts with all the ladies) and claps and says "bubbu" (bubbles) and "up" and is already taking steps at 10 months old. The kid is spot on where he needs to be and I couldn't be prouder (or more relieved).

But then this week happened and got me all stressed out and freaking out. Maybe two weeks ago he started waking up just a bit more in the night. I chalked it up to teething and the fact that he'd started trying to walk, knowing that hitting developmental milestones can actually mess with sleep. Something that I was taking note of, but not something to worry about too much. Next thing I know it's Christmas and we are at my parents house and life is chaos. Not surprisingly, he slept horribly the first night. Second night was no picnic, and third night had me concerned. Then things took an ugly turn after Nate left to be the speaker at a Youth retreat.

Screaming. Top-of-your-lungs, painful, half hour long screaming. He wouldn't nurse, he wouldn't let me hold him close. He arched his back and just wailed and flopped around all over the bed. He did this for the hour or so that I tried to get him to sleep. He woke up ever hour to an hour and a half ALL night long...screaming. Naps even became practically nonexistent. I found myself in the middle of a sleep deprived nightmare.

To say that I was concerned would be a gross understatement. I was freaking out. It was breaking my heart to hear him and not know what was wrong or how to fix it. Over the course of five days I tried to figure out what was wrong. My mind saw signs of food issues, possible seizures, ear infections...but I had no way of knowing. I can't tell you what that last night in Memphis was like. He screamed from 2:20-3:30 AM and I just held him and cried along with him. I vowed to take him to the doctor on Monday. When I talked to Husband about it over the phone, I cried, and said the words that terrified me as I said them "I just hope I wake up tomorrow and he goes back to normal". I said those words about Diva Girl for months, and I felt this panic rising in me as I said them about my son. Totally different situation, but still...I couldn't help but be afraid.

Then yesterday we came home, along with Husband. One of the first things Rascal did was take a nice nap with his daddy. I was dreading the evening, but much to my surprise he fell asleep with very little fuss. He woke up 3 times in the night, nursed back to sleep, and with only minimal crying. Today? Two naps. And only whimpers as I patted his back and he drifted off to sleep this evening. Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I watched him sleeping peacefully. A heaviness has been lifted from me and I am just so glad to see my baby go back to normal.

Best I can tell, he just needed to be home again with his family all together. I don't really understand it, but I'm all too happy to accept it. I pray that nothing like this ever happens again, because I'm not sure my frail psyche could handle it. I'm just glad to have my sweet baby boy back...my sleeping, smiling Rascal.