Our Trip to the Hospital

Well I promised more on this and so here we go. My husband was out of town on a business trip a couple of months ago and S decided to just lose it. It was a bad, bad rage and I was scared of him. I had never been scared of him or to go back to my house, but at that point I was scared. His attachment therapist told us it was time for us to take him for an evaluation to see if they wanted to admit him to the psych hospital. So with a lot of tears, me telling my mom that tough loved suck and I feeling like God had dropped me on my butt, I packed up my son and took him. My dad went with me, because Rob was still out of town. That is one of the lowest moments of my life. I tried to hold him and tried not to cry while we waited for hours. Even now the thought of it brings tears to my eyes. Well they finally got him admitted and my dad and I walked out of the hospital arm in arm both bawling. Little did I know this was going to be the start of things getting worse not better. It turns out that S loved the hospital. It was much like an orphanage, he didn't have to attach to anyone and he turned on the charm to get what he wanted. He was there for a week and in our "family session" one of the social workers had told him about deal breakers (ie if you hurt yourself or someone else, destroy property or threaten to hurt yourself) then you will have to come back. Well he was happy to hear this and so he came home on Friday night and we were taking him back on Saturday. At this point I was mad I could see through his ploy but Rob was determined to take him back. So another three weeks later and hearing him say, "I hate you," "I don't want a family," "Living on a street would be better than coming home," etc., we finally tried to bring him home again. During this time Rob had just started dialysis and I was overwhelmed. The child did not want to come home and the hospital basically told me "He doesn't need to come back here. This is not a place for him." The first three days the child would not step foot in the house. We lived at a friends of mine house who were truly a God send and have walked through every step with us. However, I told S and my family that there were no deal brakers and he was not going back to the hospital. I was tempted to add over the death of my marriage or the death of me, but I refrained. Finally we got Solomon home and stable on some meds. I know that people don't necessarily believe in medicating children, heck I don't really believe in it, but S needs it to function. Thus in our family it is a necessity. So while him coming home was a week of hell, that was a few months ago and things are better now. I can see the healing coming about slowly. We have had a few setbacks. The police have been to my house a few times. He has one more trip back to the hospital that was out of our control, and yes that was the lowest point of this entire journey I felt like God had sucker punched me. However, I also saw out of that my child say HE wanted TO COME HOME. That was so huge. I just wanted to give him a huge hug and a kiss when he said that, but I refrained cause I am just a cool mama like that. We are going to get there, there is light at the end of the tunnel. For anyone who is struggling today, know there is home, and if you ever need anything feel free to email or leave a post here. It is hard, but with God's help I am going to survive this in mostly one piece.