ADHD Medication

It's been a busy week. I'm fed up, tired, and hating life at the moment.

I took my son to the specialist for his ADHD on Tuesday. His dad came too. Nevermind the fact that I received a million emails beforehand about how he didn't like my choice of doctors, and that I was afraid he would go and cancel the appointment on me last minute, but we made it there. And the doctor prescribed medication. I knew it was coming, but still, it's so controversial, I really didn't want him on meds. I feel like I failed as a mother.

I was tempted to call an office colleague who lives nearby. Her son was also diagnosed with the same thing, and so she understands all of this. But I didn't. I didn't want to bother her, I didn't want to impose. Yet I knew that had I called it would not have been an imposition. I guess I'm a bit weird that way.

I get home and get a call from my brother. His judgement was overwhelming. "How could you drug up your own child? Why do that to a poor kid? Why not just spend more time with him at night so he will be OK?"

Seriously? Like I need to hear that shit. Like I don't feel like a failure already. Family can be so very cruel.

So I get the prescription filled and start my son on the meds. I monitor him like crazy. His appetite has decreased in the day (But he makes up for it in the morning and night). He has a harder time falling asleep. My boss (whose child also has the same condition) advised me not to let my son know that insomnia is a side effect or he will use it as an excuse. Good advice, actually.

I worked closely with my son's teacher to monitor his work. He was kind enough to email me. At least my son is showing a noticeable change in focus. The teacher said to me that this was the most focus he has ever seen from my son, and the most legible handwriting yet. That is promising.

And then the kicker. My son asks "So how many days will I need the medication for? When will I be all better?" How do you answer that? I said "I'm not sure yet." He says "Well I won't need it forever right? When will I stop being sick?" I explain that he isn't sick, but that his brain doesn't have the same chemical that other people's does and so we are helping it along. His reply "Mommy, I promise to be good if we stop making me take them".


Baby, it isn't your fault, I thought to myself. But how do I explain all this to him?

I feel useless. I feel hopeless. I feel like a failure. For the past two nights I have come home, looked at my son and gone to my room to cry. I never wanted to do this. I just want him to be OK.