Choices

One of biggest challenges that Aubrey deals with is an incredibly short attention span.  It makes everything difficult for her, for us, and for her teachers.  At every IEP (individul education plan meeting with teachers and therapists) it is the topic most discussed.  Her inability to atttend to anything for any length of time effects every aspect of her life...from meal time, to potty training, to class time, and church.  She cannot sit still.  She cannot focus.  She cannot follow directions.  And it seems to be getting worse.

I can't even really begin to describe how hard this is for us as her parents.  It has gotten to the point where we pretty much don't even take her to sacrament meeting anymore, because she cannot sit down, stop whining, and trying to escape.  So we don't go as a family most of the time.  Matt and I take turns going with Charlie while the other stays at home with Aubs until it is time for her to come Primary.

We have always been reluctant about trying medication.  Always.  We always thought (hoped, prayed) that there would be a better way.  But sometimes...you reach the end of your rope, and desperation sets in.  And unfortunately, that is where we are. 

So, for the past few months we have been talking with Aubrey's pediatrician, and researching options for ADD medication in hopes that we could find something that would help...even just a little.

A few weeks ago, we started her on a medication.  We were nervous.  Scared of side effects.  Worried that it wouldn't help.  Afraid of losing any part of Aubrey's sparkle.

On the first day we watched her like a hawk.  And it helped.  I noticed small differences throughout the day.  She sat easier for her meals.  I wasn't repeating myself over and over and over again when I gave her directions.  The differences were subtle...but they were there.

And then?  Then she didn't sleep at all for 28 hours.  We put her to bed that night...and she never went to sleep.  Finally, the next day the medicine left her system entirely and she just crashed.  It was horrible.  So we called the doctor and she suggested we try cutting the dose in half so see if we could still get the bennefits of the medication, but still allowing her to sleep.  Well, it didn't work.  She was able to sleep, but there were no improvements in her attention.

And so, these are the choices we make.  Medicate to help her focus at home and school?  Or don't medicate, but allow her to have an appetite and sleep at night?  For us, we choose quality of life.  Aubrey already has so many battles to fight.  So much is asked of her already.  She lives a life of constant frustration.  There are so many things she cannot enjoy, and experiences she will never have.  The least we can do is let her eat and sleep.  Right?

Experiences like this can be so discouraging.  It is almost as though every time we try something new, we hold out hope that this could be the miracle that we've been waiting for.  The pill that will improve her attention span.  The therapy that will help her start talking, the specialist that will help her potty train.  Sometimes I wonder, at what point do we stop being hopeful?

I am so weary.  I feel old and tired.  Every morning when I wake up, I feel like I am preparing for a battle that will never end.  And sometimes the only thing that gets me out of bed, and keeps me going, and keeps me hoping, is the desperate love I have for my daughter.  It is what I wake with, it is what I sleep with, it is what holds me together on days when I think I might break into a million little pieces.  And it is behind every choice I make.