The Hardest Job I Have Ever Loved!

I have said this many times but I mean it with the deepest sincerity:  The hardest job I have ever had is being a parent!

With that being said, it is a job I wouldn’t trade for the world.  It is also the job I love the most!

For those who don’t know me, I have had many jobs over my 41 years.  They have ranged from picking up trash in parking lots and painting fences to working for the Division of Family Services to working as a Social Worker in Nursing Homes to, finally, a police officer for seven years prior to Brendon’s debut.

With this incredible job of parenting Brendon and Adelyn have come the biggest heartaches I have ever felt.   For some reason no pain hurts more than when it happens to my own child.  I have had broken bones, torn ligaments, hurt feelings, multiple surgeries (including two c-sections), I have been lied to, made fun of, called a ‘bastard’ because of being born out of wedlock (I’m adopted), been ignored, called ‘fat’,  told I read too slow, called a ‘baby’ by my fourth grade teacher who was too arrogant to understand the reason for my distress, told I would never amount to much by my high school counselor and that I wasn’t smart enough to attend a four –year college (proved her wrong!), and have experienced a broken heart, that has taken years to move on from, friendships ended… nothing compares to when my child, my son in this case, is in pain or is suffering.

Brendon’s speech issues are severe; often times a barrier for him from the outside world.  His words get trapped inside his head and people walk away.  Today we spoke in detail in the car on our way to his first therapeutic horseback ride of 2014 (kicking of the Spring Session) about how he feels when those words are stuck and I am not there to witness or assist. 

Brendon described what he feels like during interactions with his peers as this, “Mom, they ignore me.  It feels like I don’t matter; like I’m not important.” 

I am at the point of desperation with the issues he faces every single day with his speech.  When I sit and think about it I am moved to tears.  Stephen and I discuss it on a regular basis and he is often moved to tears knowing what our son endures with this deficit.

 

Today, while speaking with one of his two Speech/Language Pathologists, I said to her that I just wished she had the magic pill to make this all better for him.  I don’t think I have ever felt so helpless than when it comes to this matter.

I do a lot of research and try to come up with the solution and there is none.  All we can do is give him the tools to work his way out of the blocks and pray that someday it will all come together.  But, I will continue to research and try to find ways to help Brendon. 

So, as with every day we (Stephen and I) just try to make the best of it and reassure our precious children that they are most worthy of love and respect.  We spent the evening as a typical one in our home laughing, telling stories, reading, praying, and snuggling.

I am blessed!