An hour before another family visit scheduled to take place on a cold and rainy evening. It’s clear to me that the living room in the house where we will visit is not big enough. It is going to be crowded, and especially for him, my child. The living room will fill with people, space to move will be limited, noisy with Hebrew and noisy with English, a language he does not know or understand. New people will mix with people he knows and a different dynamic will take place from the one he got used to in our family gatherings.
Thoughts are running in my head… how will he react? Remembering that from yesterday he actually didn’t eat enough and he is apparently hungry. I translate the data, from my knowledge of him, to a low threshold of nervousness, one that very easily will cause him to erupt in a moment of distress or pressure. My stress from the approaching situation is rising For the rest of the family this is a nice and refreshing family gathering. Nobody thinks (nor should they) of the significance of such a visit for a child with special needs. For me this is a task, an extra effort required of me, which is mostly emotional. I am the one who will have to watch out for him and prevent his tantrum, the one who will help him to hold himself together, who will mediate the new people and the noise. I feel I am getting hot.
During the drive which is not long, I was subdued and focused on visualizing the course of the visit. From the minute he enters until he realizes that something has changed in this room, whose details he already knows, and that new people are there whom he doesn’t know. How much time will it take until this foreign presence will start affecting his stress level, which is always there in the background? How much time will it take him to feel that the noise in the room is unbearable for him? Will he allow me and his father to speak to others? Or will we again be in a situation where we are glued to him, in the optimistic scenario, or where we isolate him in a different room because he cannot cope, in the less optimistic scenario, or politely say our goodbyes to everyone because he insists on going home, in the worst case. These thoughts wear me out even before the visit begins and I feel that I don’t really want this visit. I think to myself, why not stay home? In his safe place where he allows himself and us to carry on our lives as we wish, without worries or the need to support him. But there’s no choice and we arrive.
We are here. He walks into the room, looks at everyone and I get ready. I look at him and at his amazing eyes which are scanning the area. He remains quiet and goes to the dining table. I immediately put myself there to help him choose what to eat, convincing him to sit next to the table because all of the guests are on the other side of the room. Without even thinking about it, I isolate him and that’s not good, but I think to myself that I want quiet. I don’t want to start with anger and pressures. “You are only trying to make it easier for him”, I convince myself. He finishes eating and goes to the area where his father sits. Looking again at everyone, passing next to the new guests, saying hello politely (with the mediation of his father who is of course much calmer than me) and sits down. I draw a deep breath and sit on the other side of the room. I become an observer, an alert observer ready to run to him because it is clear to me that he will start throwing a tantrum in a minute. But he refutes all of my fears. Feeling part of the group, leaning on his grandfather who can’t stay indifferent to him, smiling and cooperating with his uncles and cousins and even with the new relatives. He hardly takes note of me.
And so goes the visit. He enjoys the company around, I am on the side and it is time to go. I notice that I stayed at the same place, I did not initiate any interaction with him and neither did he initiate one with me. He chose where and with whom to spend his time, and I was left unoccupied. This is the first time that I actually managed to have a conversation with others and be focused on it, without disturbances. On the way home I contemplated the magic that happened when I moved aside. I understand that I distanced him from my stress and allowed him to decide by himself on himself. So simple and yet so hard to let go, but well worth it!
