My heart was broken into a million pieces the other day. Pieces that I will never be able to pick-up and repair. Sometimes heartbreak is just that cruel. It happened one morning a week or so ago. I was on my way to take Avery to school and we were practicing saying different words. I try to practice his speech with him on the way to school as he's the most alert and not overwhelmed with other things at the time.
After a few practice words, Avery stopped me. He said, "Mama, why do I have to always practice my words?" I knew immediately where this conversation was going. I explained to him that sometimes people need a little extra help to make the words sound right.
Of course, that didn't satisfy his curiosity. He then said, "Mama, why don't the other kids in my class have to have speech, why just me?"
My heart sank. He's noticed. He has figured out that he isn't like the other kids. He has figured out that not all of the kids need speech.
Sweaty palms, hyperventilation, blurred vision all begin. Where is the mama manual? What do I say?
I don't know where the words came from, but they started. "Sweetie, some kids have a hard time making words, just like some kids have a hard time learning to ride a bike. We're all different and we all have areas that we need help with."
Those words had to of come from above, because I just started talking and had no idea what I was saying.
The words worked. Avery said, "Okay."
Wow. That was surprising. I'm not sure if it was the words that comforted him, or the fact that he's maturing and can see the differences in other children too, but he was okay with the answer.
Although the conversation didn't last long, my heart still broke. Avery is picking up on his struggles. As of right now, Avery hasn't said anything to me about kids making fun of his speech, and I pray to the Lord that it never happens, but I fear it might. And if or when it does, my heart will break into pieces once again.