Multilingual *

There were words and phrases that I didn’t know existed. Words like SENCO, and attachment, and early life trauma, and EHCP, and PRU… words and acronyms that just flow off my tongue these days as though they’ve always been there. The same happened when I’d been nursing for a little while, I developed “nurse language”, where I could fit a patient’s entire medical history into a tiny little box using abbreviations and initials. Nowadays though, I speak “adoptive parent”, which is “parent language… and then some”.

I didn’t notice it happening I don’t think; I can’t pinpoint exactly when I became fluent in the complicated world that surrounds Norman and Marvin and their complex needs. I have no basis for comparison, this is the only version of parenting that I know, but as time goes on, as we strip away the layers of difficulty to try and get to the real little people underneath, all we seem to find is more complex layers of difficulty…

After waiting for therapeutic input, we were finally assessed by a clinical psychologist, who put into black and white the difficulties our boys face and why. It makes quite stark reading, if for no other reason than the fact that there’s nothing black and white at all about our boys. But that assessment took place a year ago, and it was only a fortnight ago that the treatment actually began. To begin with, Mrs S and I are supposed to have six sessions – one a week – to talk about the boys, how things are, come up with strategies to deal with their behaviour, and so on. Of the three sessions we should have had, so far we’ve managed one! And that’s not down to us. It seems that, as with all other areas where the boys are concerned, we fall into a perfect storm – if something can go wrong, it most definitely will. The sessions with the boys themselves will begin after Christmas at some point, but after waiting two years just to get to this point, I’m not sure which Christmas…

Last week was particularly tough, for reasons I’m not quite ready to talk about yet. Suffice to say though, what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, and I keep putting one foot in front of the other. Above all else, our boys are loved. I feel like I’ve been saying “help is coming” for such a long time now, and it’s like that thing where you say a word over and over and over again until it makes no sense any more. But there’s a glimmer, slowly but surely things are creeping along. I just wish sometimes that everything wasn’t such a battle, that someone might just come along and give our lovely boys the help they so desperately need and deserve without us having to pester and fight.

(* By the way, I also speak knitting!)

1 thought on “Multilingual *”

  1. Such a shame that after the start (I can only imagine) your boys had in life that you still have to battle for help!!
    Wishing you a better year all round in 2021 ☺️.
    I know you will keep on fighting for your family, just a pity it has to be that way!!
    Just don’t lose your sense of humour, that would be a tragedy!
    Sending love and good wishes to you all.
    Sue xxxx

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