I Am Not Alone (Even When it Feels Like It)

Back in October, after five years of caring for my severely disabled son, he was admitted to a psychiatric hospital for several weeks and I had to make the difficult decision to allow him to be admitted to an institution for severely disabled children. It was a hard thing to do, and yet, it was the right thing to do. The decision was heartbreaking, there is not many things in life that are more difficult than taking your five year old son into an institution and then walk out without him. 

At first I tried to comfort myself by saying "well, at least he's not dead and I can go and see him", but walking out of a psychiatric hospital and leaving your son there for three weeks knowing he will be admitted to an institution afterwards, just isn't easy. Honestly, sometimes it almost feels like he has died, but unlike the parents who have gone through the heartbreaking experience of having a child die, at least I can see mine. He might not be in my home, but he is flourishing in his new environment, and he has the potential to be the little boy God created him to be. Even thinking like that, however, isn't enough. 

The thing is, I had to cling to God and trust that he knew what was right and good. God had given me this wonderful little boy. When he made him and gave him to me, he knew he would have multiple disabilities. Still, I asked God to somehow comfort me. Going through this it seemed like I was all alone. A lot of days it still feels like that. Other people don't understand why I would "give" my son to an institution, why I would "allow" him to be heavily medicated. It's a lonely journey. Even his brothers and sister don't really understand why he is not living here, but they try. We all love him very much. Which is why I did what was best for him rather than what I wanted to do and keep him at home.

Until this week, I still primarily felt that I was alone. This week my beautiful little boy was transferred to his new facility. I took him to his dorm, and they lead him to a room with three other boys. While my son was the youngest, this scene was somewhat comforting to me. For the first time, I looked around, I saw his three roommates, and thought "wow, these precious boys are some other woman's sons, I'm not the only one who has a son living in an institution." Which made me wonder if all these other women had gone through feelings similar to mine, that they were alone, the sorrow of not having their child live at home, the judgment from others. And, while I haven't met these moms, God had honored my request to comfort me. I realized that even in the most heartbreaking of circumstances, I was not alone. Others have walked this path before me.