I’ve been trying *not* to think about this since Max’s diagnosis, but it keeps popping up where it’s not wanted, so I figure maybe writing it out might help.
The thing is.
Although Max is progressing *really* well.
(and when I really think of how much he’s come on in the last year, it’s just *amazing*!)
I can’t help but wonder…
what will he be like when he’s legally an adult?
What about when he hits puberty, and his hormones run riot?
Will I be able to take care of him?
Will he be with me for the rest of my life?
Will I have a toddler boy forever?
What if I can’t cope?
I don’t really like to think about it, funnily enough.
But it’s there in the back of my head.
Prodding at my conscious.
Reminding me of the huge uncertainty of having a child with special needs.
My mum always says to remember to look at the big picture.
But I think, for this one, perhaps it’s better just to enjoy the here and now.
The little details.