Even the Expected Hurts

CAS assessment selfie

Harrison went for assessment today for CAS, Childhood Apraxia of Speech. We were told at 2 he had it by the psychologist that gave him his initial autism evaluation, though it's not diagnosed until around 5 years of age. So, I've known for a while. I've expected it. In fact, as soon as he turned 5, I lined up the eval for CAS. Get the diagnosis so you can get the proper treatment. Makes sense.

Except, it hurts.

It hurts to read that my child has 20% language intelligibility. It hurts to read that's there's no cure. But of course there's no cure, just therapy. Lots and lots of therapy. LOTS of THERAPY. Of course there's no "cure", no 100% guarantee...that's the life we've been living. Of course when you're standing on promises and words that God gave you years ago, you're staring down "no cure".

Autism, no cure. PANDAS, no cure. Childhood Apraxia of Speech, no cure. Because where would the miracle fit in if there was a cure?!

This is heavy. I'm tired. (in this moment) The Lord sustains me, He keeps me going...but in this moment I'm spread thin and we're looking at more therapy. Possibly moving to a new speech provider, starting the whole process over to make sure Harrison gets the help he needs. And if/when insurance cuts us short of needed sessions, we're looking at going through the school system to get extra speech, though they don't treat CAS. Thank God we already have an IEP. Thank God the information I need is put in front of my face before I actually need it. Thank God.

Thank God! Yes, this is heavy. Yes, it makes the mountain bigger. But He warned me. He gave me a vision of myself ripping up several diagnoses in front of a crowd one day. I play that scene in my mind often, sometimes several times a day. I know what God has shown me. I know what He's spoken over my child. "He's healed. Put him in front of people and I'm going to show them that I still work miracles." And He's faithful, this much I know. I've survived all of my worst days and come out smelling like roses and we will survive this too. This mountain will be moved.

Sound like I'm pumping myself up, trying to convince myself of this stuff? I am. This is what you do when you have a word from the Lord but a label from man. You wage war with the words spoken to you and over you. Paul said in 1 Timothy 1:18-19

"...I am entrusting you with this responsibility, in keeping with the very first prophecies that were spoken over your life, and are now in the process of fulfillment in this great work of ministry, in keeping with the prophecies spoken over you. With this encouragement use your prophecies as weapons as you wage spiritual warfare by faith and with a clean conscience. For there are many who reject these virtues and are now destitute of the true faith..." (TPT)

My child can't wage war on his own behalf so by proxy, I wage war for him. And it is a war. Every day feels like a battle at times. Yes, we have good days...but you never now when or how or how to reproduce them. Though we are making progress, the war continues.

This entry feels kinda all over the place, much like my thoughts tonight. Again, I knew the diagnosis was coming, and yet I still feel a little shaken by it. It's OK. Tonight I'll get some rest and tomorrow we'll hit the ground running, ready to do what we can do and let God do the rest. I'm confident in this one thing though,

"I would have despaired had I not believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord In the land of the living. Wait for and confidently expect the Lord; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for and confidently expect the Lord." (Psalm 27:13-14)