I always feel after writing an epic/whiney/wtf kind of post, that I should have some sort of time out. And then I should post lots of pretty pictures to convince you all that I am ok. And then just breeze on by like the world is wonderful and Isaac has started shitting sweet smelling roses.
Not only is most of that fake, but there is no way on god's earth that Isaac, or Noah for that matter, will start shitting sweet smelling roses.
But before I continue, I would like to address a few things since my last post.
First of all, I want to say THANK YOU. I feel like that's not enough, but I don't know how else to express my thanks. I could, um, point you in the direction of Boob Emancipation, and show you some wonderful NOT PR0N boobs (and I will repeat, this is NOT pr0n) but lots of lovely things that will make you smile.
Or perhaps I could promise to send you all fluffy pink panties, maybe with a crotch, maybe without, depending on what mood I might be in, along with some sweet chocolatey goodness.
If I was REALLY good, I would reply to you all personally to say thank you. I might still do that. I'd LIKE to do that. Because your support has been wonderful.
But for now I'll say it again; THANK. YOU.
I confess when I wrote the post, I expected a whole bunch of trolls, or people to try and rip me a new one for being so open and honest. At the end of the day, I put myself out there completely and openly, because many people don't know where I'm coming from, as seen in the comments. You've messaged me, you've left comments, you've emailed, and for the most part, you have all been supportive. And I am so grateful for that.
On reflection, and spending much of that evening crying my eyes out to D and blowing snot bubbles on his shoulder (have you ever image googled "snot bubbles"? Fucking hilarious), I was very, very frustrated, and on finally reading back my own post a day later, I realise I did it mostly out of frustration.
"I am kick-ass Momma with OPINIONS. Here me RAWRRRRRR bitchessssss."
It's not that I just wanted my voice to be heard, I needed people to understand what it was saying, and why. I felt so sad to have come up against so many walls, when all I wanted to do was express a bit of concern over my son.
It's the hardest thing in the world when in trying to be supportive or helpful to someone, you say "don't worry, it'll all be ok". And they're right, for the most part it WILL be ok. But in the thick of it all, sometimes that doesn't cut it. It's still appreciated, but it still doesn't cut it.
The latest, is that having spoken to my doc, she agrees with our views (D and I) in that Noah should be saying more. She has referred him to a speech therapist, and that was HER call. NOT mine. Needless to say, it's unlikely we'll get an appointment this side of Christmas (thank you NHS, love you. And your food.)
So until then, I rest quietly in the hope that he'll be chattering away like a lunatic before then, and by the time the appointment arrives, they can tell me that he's A OK.
Personally? I think better safe than sorry.
Oh, and, did I tell you, Thanks?