Di-sgu-sting

So last night I was laying next to Andrew while he was in the first few hours of sleep. I must have fallen asleep because I usually leave after he starts to fall asleep. I started to hear an odd sound. Andrew didn't change his movement at all, so I figured it must be something outside. Then the noise became more frequent...and then a smell accompanied it..and then I recognized the sound...GROSS.

Andrew had a RANK case of diarrhea. It was EVERYWHERE. I was glad I hadn't left last night. Otherwise, I can only imagine the devastation he would have made to our house as he traveled from his room to our room.

So I had to get him up, run him to the bathroom, peel off the gross clothes, and try to clean him off as best I could. It was like midnight, so I definitely didn't want to wake up the rest of the house. Unfortunately Andrew, who was still in the strange place between awake and asleep, was not happy about the cleansing he was going through and started to SCREAM. He kept trying to go back to his room, wanted his blanket, both of which were impossible because of the amount of grossness he had gotten all over him. Once I'd gotten him cleaned up and in a new diaper, I deposited him in our bed with a groggy Chris, and ran back out to clean up the rest of the room.

Anyway, it ended up that Andrew and I both slept in my room, Chris went to join Kadee Joy to get some more sleep, and Andrew was awake for much of the rest of the night with the cramping that often accompanies the Rhea. Chris got the other kids up and ready at the usual time, and Andrew and I slept in, sort of. He's still got it, although not as bad as it was last night.

It's funny though, because as I was laying there in the aftermath with Andrew snoozing away, I started to think about what I'd read with the whole "detox" thing we're doing with his diet. I remember specifically reading that 21 days into the detox, one little boy had had an exploding case of diarrhea, and had then started to act much more normal, displaying far fewer signs of autism, and being able to communicate in sentences and desiring to actually know the answer of the other person.

And so I started to imagine waking up and having Andrew ask me how I was, what I wanted to do, telling me about what he was thinking, etc...I mean, it's around day 21 of this diet, he just had the exploding diarrhea...

So this morning as Andrew was waking up, I looked over at him in great anticipation. He looked over at me, stretched, and then went "Joooooot?" Nothing different about that. That's how he always asks for Juice. "Gobet?" Know that one...he wants his blanket. "Sorry, but, it's still in the washer. I'll have to put it in the dryer." All he heard was "Sorry..." which to him means no. He did one of his muffled screams of frustration.

So no, no change. No miracle. Still Andrew with one word requests, or phrases that he wants you to repeat back so that he can quote a scene from a movie.

I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. I was so, so disappointed, and was putting so much hope in what my little guy would be able to do, just based on this diet.

What do I want for him, again? To be capable, contributing, and communicative. He has been making so much progress. And I know that. I'm afraid that the little episode of illness was nothing more than his body reacting to being in a public school for the first time.

Not the precursor to a miracle. Not an introduction into a world of normalcy. Or at least not an introduction into the world of normal communication. I guess I keep hoping for a miracle. As I was talking to Chris about it on his way out the door to church this morning, he said, "Steph, it's not like he's going to 'sober up' one day." I think in some sort of idealistic way I was hoping that he kind of would. I love my child, love who he is...and yet I still wish he could be different from who he is. I still wish that he could tell me things, that I could tell him things, that he would be able to have a conversation with a friend...that he could have a friend. That he could do and have all of those things RIGHT NOW.

No miracle.

At least, not today.

Or at least, not in the way I had hoped for.

It is a process, not a one night switch into to a new person.

Lord, teach me how to pray for my child.