Perfect words to describe my current state. Yesterday was a day of grieving that's left me raw this morning. I did already know about Blossom's condition which is why I had her tested to make it formal and to be able to get more help, especially once she's an adult, but I admit that a secret part of me was hoping I was wrong. I was also hoping it wasn't quite so bad.
In all my reading about adoption and the various issues children may have, none mentioned the grieving a parent experiences with each new diagnosis. I didn't even recognize what it was the first couple times, but I know it well now. I grieve for the struggles that lay ahead for my child, for the things she won't experience or accomplish (whatever they may be), for the perceptions others will have of her and the limitations they may try to place on her, and for so much more.
What comes later is the celebration of each achievement she will have, big and small, but today, I am still grieving for her.
What makes this even more sad is that she's very aware of what others can do and she doesn't yet understand why she isn't allowed to do those things. In her mind, she feels capable, but when she tries, she is not, and it makes situations dangerous for her.
Last night as I dropped her off for her weekly church activity, I saw the leader placing a big cup of scissors on the table. My reaction was physical. My heart rate increased, my breath caught in my chest and I felt something close to panic rising in me. My mind was screaming, Please don't give her scissors! I managed to keep myself under control and speak reasonably with the leader, one of the few I feel compassion and understand from, not judgement. She assured me that Blossom will have plenty to do that doesn't involve scissors.
I can't remember in this moment if I mentioned what Blossom did with scissors the last time she had them, but the path of destruction she wrought is still being discovered. Mostly, she didn't mean to destroy things, though a few items she did, like cutting the sleeve of one of her sister's Sunday dresses, but she honestly believed that if the things were her own, it was okay to cut them up. She cut the yarn tufts off her quilt to use as fake noodles in our little play kitchen (still her favorite toy). This was creative, but terribly inappropriate and destructive. She also cut the leather flowers off her leather sandals to give as a gift, cutting the sandal straps, too. Again, kindness was the goal, but destruction the result. She only meant to cut the tag off of her pillow, but she ended up cutting the pillow as well. And so on and so on and so on...