Zachary: ADD & OCD & Depression

My Zachary is special needs. 

Zachary arrived in the world having already overcome so much. 
I had extreme complications during my pregnancy with him. 
Complications that threatened his life. 
I was told at 12w 5d that he likely wouldn't survive.

The only thing I could do was rest until he came out. So I began 28 weeks of bedrest. 
The doctor came to my house every week for a checkup, and I visited the hospital for emergencies nearly as much. 

I had to see a high risk doctor in a town over an hour away every month. 
The weeks passed and I was allowed up occasionally. 
It was always followed by another trip to the hospital. 

But then 28 weeks came and went. He had passed the "safe point"! 
And I breathed a sigh of relief. 

Then 30 weeks, 35 weeks, and 40 weeks. 

Almost 3 weeks late, Zachary decided to be born in about 20 minutes. I barely made it to the hospital. 

He wasn't breathing at first, and spent a little time in the NICU. 
In the end he was healthy! Healthy, tiny baby boy. 

When Zachary started school, I would get a call nearly every day on the struggles they had with Zachary. I was so confused. Confused beyond belief. My boy was so good and sweet at home, rarely had issues. Yet everyday for two entire years, there was some kind of major issue. 

I was in the school daily, I volunteered in his class at least 3 times a week. We had a team of teachers and professionals meeting monthly to adjust and discuss our game plan. 

And then it happened. 

The school had the special education department observe Zachary for a week. 

And they told me I should take him to a clinical psychologist to discuss ADD. 

To say I was floored is an understatement. 

I, arrogantly, had never "believed" in ADD. I had no research to back up my ideas, I had preconceived and unfounded notions of this "affliction". 

I took him in. After 3 months of weekly visits, the results were in. 

ADD. OCD. Divorce related depression. 

Swallowing this was difficult. 

I felt guilty, as if I must have done something to give him so many hurdles in life. 

So we searched for ways to cope.

We tried diet changes, essential oils, rigid schedules, supplements. 


He, even being the most intelligent kid his teachers had met, was doing very very poorly in school - academically and socially. 

He came home crying every single day because he couldn't "make himself be good". 

My poor, sweet boy was ostracized by his peers for being unpredictable. 

He just couldn't cope when things didn't go a certain way, when noises were too loud, or when lights were too bright. 

Some things helped in minor ways. 

But we knew he needed more. 

We decided to medicate. 

Medication of such a strong nature is hard to give to a child. Or at least, considering is difficult. 
Once I came to terms with the fact that it was our last option. 

But once we did it,  I saw changes in him I had hoped for. 
An immediate 180. 

My boy was coping with his emotions, completing his school work, listening to teachers, working along side his classmates. 

His school has a fantastic special education department. He is taking life skills classes, which teach him ways to manage himself and conduct himself in public and in school. 

We still have diet restrictions, very rigid schedule, and a million little things to help him get through every day smiling. 

I want all mothers out there to know, you are not "less of a mother" if you have come to the conclusion to medicate your child. 
Do I think it should be a last resort? Yes. Medications have side effects we may not realize. 
But this medication is helping my sweet child thrive in school and be the happy, optimistic boy I know him to be. 

Medication is okay. You are not a bad mother. You are not taking the "easy" way out. 

You go mama. Do what you have to do. 

No comments :

Post a Comment

Blog Design by Get Polished | Copyright 2016