The fourth pharmacy I visited finally accepted my prescription. “We have this, but it’s important to note that it is a controlled substance. You will need a new handwritten prescription from your doctor every month for refills,” the pharmacist informed me. I nodded, quickly averting my gaze, struggling to maintain my composure. After she filled the bottle with thirty unassuming capsules and sent it to me through a chute accompanied by paperwork, she asked, “Do you have any questions?”
Yes, I had countless questions. “No, thank you,” I replied, rolling up my car window and driving away, tears streaming down my cheeks as I exited the pharmacy parking lot.
During my pregnancy with my son, I adhered to every guideline. I diligently took prenatal vitamins, avoided artificial sweeteners, deli meats, and any alcohol. Though I craved Thai food and wasabi, I only indulged in cooked dishes. I made sure my bathwater was at a safe temperature, and I didn’t take even a single Tylenol. I found comfort in these rules, believing that my strict adherence somehow guaranteed my baby’s well-being. I felt immense relief when he was born healthy.
Fast forward ten years, I found myself in the worn passenger seat of my minivan, holding a bottle of amphetamines prescribed for my son. As I read through the informational pamphlet in the parking lot of Starbucks, I hesitated before taking it home. The potential side effects were daunting: increased blood pressure, heart rate, psychotic symptoms, addiction, and even sudden death. Overwhelmed, I rested my head on the steering wheel, allowing my emotions to surface.
Our family rarely keeps over-the-counter medications like Motrin on hand. We don’t even take vitamins regularly. While we’re not against medication, we seldom use it and often end up discarding expired bottles. I seek out what I believe to be the safest products, from sunscreen to deodorants free of aluminum and parabens, and I prioritize organic produce and milk. In general, I am cautious about risks. The thought of giving my child what is essentially speed terrifies me.
This is the same child I exclusively breastfed for over a year, determined to avoid altering his gut microbiome by introducing formula. Looking back, that notion seems naïve now as I consider the deliberate alteration of his brain chemistry through medication.
Before that moment with my head on the steering wheel, I grappled with countless questions: Is this behavior normal? Why isn’t he happy? Why does he struggle at school? Why is he often angry? Can we help him? Will he always feel this way? Many nights were spent in tears, desperately seeking answers. We explored books, websites, and consulted various professionals, including doctors, therapists, and psychiatrists. We tried cognitive behavioral therapy and various coping strategies. The complexity of the human brain became evident—there are no simple solutions.
I came across articles that caused anxiety and others that incited guilt. I contemplated alternative schooling or homeschooling, but that wasn’t what my son desired. His issues weren’t limited to school; he craved stability and wanted to remain with his friends, the people who brought him joy. I collaborated with his caring teachers, who supported him and maintained regular communication with me. After three years of exhausting all other options, we reached a point where medication seemed necessary.
This decision was met with great reluctance and hesitation. The weight of my heart felt unbearable at times, leading me to ponder whether I could go through with it. How could I give my child a controlled substance and act as if it were a normal choice? No parent imagines that their journey will lead to medicating their child. However, how could I not attempt everything possible to assist my child, who battles daily struggles against issues beyond his control? I promised to do everything in my power to make life easier for my son, who loves deeply, works tirelessly, and yet continues to face challenges. I felt compelled to try.
Parenting is a continuous leap of faith. From the moment we cradle our newborns to watching them take their first independent steps, we gather information and make the best decisions possible with what we have. There are countless uncertainties and possibilities, yet we must trust ourselves and act. It’s the most daunting aspect of parenting: understanding that no matter how many rules we follow or how much research we conduct, we can never fully control or know the outcomes. There are no guarantees. We may make mistakes or, conversely, make the right choices. The future remains uncertain, yet we must forge ahead.
So, we take our children’s hands and leap.
I can’t yet determine if medication will be the solution or if it will positively transform my son’s life or our family’s dynamic. I can’t say if it will alleviate the burdens he carries and allow him to smile more at home, or even find joy at school, where he excels academically yet feels miserable. However, I have noticed brief moments of light, glimpses of joy that were previously absent, and a newfound sense of calm in our household over the past few weeks.
For the first time in a long while, I feel a glimmer of hope.
For more insights on home insemination options, check out this link to Cryobaby Home Intracervical Insemination Syringe Kit Combo. If medication is part of your journey, consider visiting Healthline for useful information on pregnancy and home insemination. Additionally, Impregnator At Home Insemination Kit provides excellent resources on the subject.
Summary
The decision to medicate a child is fraught with emotional complexity, especially for parents who typically avoid medications. This narrative illustrates the journey of a mother grappling with the necessity of medication for her son, balancing strict adherence to health guidelines and the desire to support her child’s well-being. Through exploration and collaboration, she confronts the realities of parenting and the difficult choices that come with it, ultimately fostering hope for a brighter future.
Keyphrase: decision to medicate child
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