“…That There Should Be.”

Connor has been rather hard to handle the last few days. I don’t know if it is teething, a growth spurt, or what. But he has been highly self-destructive and seems to think sleeping is for the birds. Ah, to be a blue jay….

I took him out today during the brief break from the frequent rain showers we have been having and let him run it off. We got home, snuggled, and off to dreamland he went. Expecting little more than spam, I checked my email to discover a breathtaking song/poem composed by a woman that never ceases to amaze me with her ability to capture the essence of human emotion and circumstances in her written word.

It brought me to tears.

The mere thought that Connor’s journey has had such an impact on others, even hundreds of miles away, is humbling. The fact that his “pain” is felt by more than his immediate family is….

….I am speechless.

All I can say is, ” Thank you.” Thank you for sharing your gift with our family. Thank you for thinking of us, and investing your heart and artistry into our little guy. “…He smiles up at me.”

And so he does. Every. Single. Time.

FOR CONNOR:

“He’s snuggled, ‘safely’,
In his crib at night.
His foot is caught between the bars,
He twists it free just right.
He doesn’t feel the pain
That there should be.
Doesn’t even whimper,
Still fast asleep.
I see it’s swollen as he’s jumping in the morning sun…
Then I see,
When he smiles up at me,
He doesn’t feel the pain
That there should be.

On his little belly,
Reaching underneath the couch,
Upset that he can’t get it,
Breaks his arm without an “ouch”.
He doesn’t feel the pain
That there should be.
Proudly holds it up,
He got it free!
Horrified that I just could not make it there in time…
And I can see,
When he smiles up at me,
He doesn’t feel the pain
That there should be.

He’s on a painless journey,
I’m painfully in hell.
They point “educated” fingers-
They “know the signs” so well.
Abuse is so much easier for them to diagnose…
They’d rather think it’s me than see
He doesn’t feel the pain
That there should be.

Buckled in his highchair,
Breakfast on his tray to eat.
He likes to hear the sound it makes
When he kicks his little feet.
He doesn’t feel the pain
That there should be.
He kicks too hard,
Now what? A broken knee?
Would you have thought I’d need to buckle down his legs as well?…
Am I the only one who sees,
When he smiles up at me,
He doesn’t feel the pain
That there should be.

He’s on a painless journey,
I’m painfully in hell,
I search for answers- memorized
I know them all so well.
Abuse is so much easier to say than “I was wrong”…
Is it so hard to believe?
He doesn’t feel the pain
That there should be.

Those diplomas littered on your wall
Don’t mean a thing to me,
When my little boy still suffers from
What you refuse to see.
With all those fancy words abuse is still all you can say?…
Help my baby, please!
Open your mind to see!
He doesn’t feel the pain
That there should be.

He’s on a painless journey,
Painfully I hold his hand.
Is there anybody out there?
Anyone to understand?
In a world of modern medicine our family stands alone…
Impossible as it may seem
He doesn’t feel the pain
That there should be.

-Gennafer Litke”