I mentioned last week that the boys had their last therapy sessions with Early Intervention. I got their "evaluations" in the mail this week, and I have to say that I was disappointed. I always think they low ball the boys' abilities. Whatever. They. Are. Rock. Stars.
I know what my boys are capable of, and that is what matters at the moment.
Except it isn't. Sigh.
As much as I want to, I can't keep the boys in my protective bubble.
Boo.
After a series of problems with our Regional Center (Early Intervention) we finally got our referral to the local school district for preschool. On Thursday, we take the boys to an "observation" by two psychologists and a speech pathologist to assess whether the boys qualify for services.
I am beyond nervous and a lot freaked out about the whole experience. If I am honest, I'll admit to being teary about it.
My whole being is screaming with the...wrongness of it all.
I hate that there are people whose job it is to pick apart my superheroes and find all of their weaknesses.
They won't focus on what can be done, only on what can't.
Yes, I get that they'll look for where the boys need the most help so they can address those weaknesses.
Yes, I get that (gasp!) these people might actually be able to help the boys achieve even greater things than they might have otherwise.
But, ugh. It feels awful to know that they will once again be judged..set apart...seen as different.
It breaks my heart.
As much as the mind knows I did everything I could--do everything I can to give my boys the best life possible, my heart still questions. It is times like these when the guilt ignites.
When I feel like I have failed them.
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My next appointment with Dr. Doom is Friday. It will be my first cervix check since the cerclage. Every little ache or strange sensation has me worried.
Please let my body be doing what it is supposed to do.
I don't know how I'll handle failing another baby.
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