It has been a long month. Izaiah, my sweet baby Izaiah, was having such a hard time. His aggression was escalating and he was having tantrums several times a day. Tantrums, for Izaiah, look like this: punching, kicking, biting, screaming, cursing, and coming at you like a rabid dog. This might have been manageable, except for the fact that Izaiah is stronger and more agile than a ninja. No exaggeration. And at some point he became stronger than us. It would take me, Mark, and Dre working together to get him off of me. He would throw things and shatter glass, without any regard as to how it could harm him, and at the drop of a hat, he would use whatever happened to be in his line of sight as a weapon. If he would become angry in the car, we’d just better hope we could pull over quickly because he would start attacking whomever was driving or start throwing objects at them.
It got to the point where he started doing it at school, too. When he didn’t get his way one day, he attacked the principal, punched her in the face, kicked her several times in the face, knocked over a bookshelf in her office, broke things on her desk, and then tried to run out of the building, so they had to call a Code Red. It took 4 teachers holding him and he still managed to get away. He got suspended for a day…his very first suspension, can you believe it? Every waking moment he would be screaming and running around. And not like a typical hyper boy, but like a kid that’s on fire. He’s been like this many times before, but this time he is bigger.
His doctor had him on meds that were a last resort. He had tried a combination of everything before. The only option left was to admit him to a psych unit and start over in finding a medication that would work for him. We have sworn on everything that we would not hospitalize him again after what happened the last time. It was never an option in our minds. His therapist saw him and made a good point, though. She said that if he seriously harmed someone, that would be much more traumatic for him in the long run than being hospitalized for a few weeks. We were deathly afraid of him hurting us, himself, or someone else and knew that would be the inevitable outcome if things continued the way they had been going.
We cried all night long once we decided to admit him the next day. We took him to the E.R. at Children’s and were there for 13 hours. They finally found a place for him, but it was at St. Vincent DePaul, and I did not know much about them. I threw a mom fit, and refused to allow him to go anywhere but two places I was familiar with. We asked if Mark could stay with him, at least during the day.
No.
We asked if we could drive him there.
No. They thought he needed to be transported by ambulance since he was such a safety risk.
He was admitted on a Tuesday evening, and we were told we could expect him to be there close to a month. I was literally sick over it. We were allowed to see him for 30 minutes a day, between 6 and 7 in the evening. Dre was not allowed to come since he’s under 18. Izaiah was so mad at us that first night. We held him and prayed, and he finally fell asleep on Mark. We never missed a night, but it was so hard seeing him. Little kids should never have to stay in this type of setting without their mommy, never never never.
The nurses were great, and were so patient when we would call six times a shift to check on him. A classmate of mine from grad school was the social worker on Izaiah’s unit, come to find out, which definitely eased our minds some. After ten days, the psychiatrist discharged him with a new cocktail of meds. He has been home for a week and a half now. Initially he did really well, but he has really struggled at times, almost to the point where we have contemplated re-admitting him. This is the hardest thing in the world for a parent. I feel like an awful mother, and the rational side of me cannot be convinced that I have not failed. He is the most precious thing in the world to me, and I love him with the love of a thousand Mother Teresa’s, but I am also so terrified of him. Please please please be praying for us. Particularly for strength for Mark and I, and for peace and rest and comfort for my baby Izaiah.
2 comments:
Thank you so much for posting, Jess! We will bump up the prayers again. And you are definitely NOT a failure!!!! I love you so much!!!
Izaiah should not have gone through the stuff he did that impacts his behavior and tormented mind. You and Mark have been the best thing to come into his life, so please don't ever think of yourself as a failure. You are a rose.
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