okay, I had to completely revamp the site so it could be what I intended.

This is my first official start over blog and it’s painful to write. I love my

littles so much. They drive me crazy, but honestly I wouldn’t want to do life

without them. I say that because a few weeks ago that could’ve been the

case. My 12 year old son took a bunch of pills at school one day in attempt

to end his life. Honestly this was the most confusing thing I’ve ever

experienced in my life. This made me think about all the times I

playfully teased him, every time I yelled at him, every time I asked him

was he slow ( horrible I know) , all the times I told him his life was easy. I

felt bad for everything I had ever done wrong as a parent. I was also

confused because I thought I was doing okay as a parent. I’ve taken child

development courses, and we’re the type of family that talks about every

thing under the sun. We talk about his feelings, his poop, his thoughts. How

could I miss this, his hurt?

Okay the story… I was at the gym and got a call from the school nurse.

She told me Micah’s teacher had taken up a pill bottle from him and that

she needed a parent to pick it up. I called my husband and let him know.

He went to the school to get him and I was going home to see what

really happened. On my way I got another call from the nurse saying

that he had taken a hand full of pills according to friends. She elaborated

by saying he had done so in all 3 periods in attempt to hurt himself. That

alarmed me and I immediately called my husband back to give him that

information. He asked him about it and he did in fact say he wanted to

end his life. We ended up taking him to the hospital to see if he had caused

any damage and we asked him so many questions and talked so much, I’m

almost sure now he didn’t hear half of it. He told us it wasn’t us, but some

guys at school that had been picking on him. We had talked about

friends and being bullied often so I still had struggles with his explanation.

He ended up spending 5 days in a Mental Health facility and boy was that

the longest 5 days of my life. The first day was

super scary and the next day when we called to talk to him I was so

annoyed. He actually said he slept good and that he wasn’t sure if he

was ready to come home. What did he mean he wasn’t sure? Like we

didn’t give him everything and take good care of him. I was hurt and

honestly I still am. Well that call changed in the next few days.

He’s back home and we are getting through this one day

at a time. I feel like we are all trying to

figure out where to go from here.

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