Are you 41 now?

It was my birthday on Wednesday and at 6.30am my son woke up and the first thing he said was happy birthday. Then he asked…

“Are you 41 now?”

And I was indeed 41. He said he had been thinking about it all night. We had a normal morning and he went to school. This day was different because he was going on a school trip. I had been so worried about it because it’s a change to his normal routine but he seemed happy. Him being happy was the best birthday present ever. He went on his trip and I had a very productive meeting with the school counsellor. Finally I felt like I was getting somewhere with some help for him. I then went home and laid on the sofa under a blanket all day. It was exactly what I needed.

My mum usually picks my son up from school on a Wednesday and then he goes to sleep at his dad’s but as it was my birthday he was sleeping with me and I was picking him up from school. He knew this and was happy with the plan. We had arranged a tea party, nothing major just us and we were going to have party food and a caterpillar cake. When I picked my son up from school the first thing he said was…

“Where is Grandma?”

And I knew he was angry. He didn’t like it that I had picked him up even though he knew I was picking him up. I apologised and then stayed quiet wondering if this would result in the blowout that I had been dreading all day. But no he recovered and we had the tea party and it all went well. We then went to my son’s football class, again his dad normally takes him but as he was with me for my birthday I took him, another change to his routine I wondered if all these changes would result in a bad bedtime but we got in from football, he ate his supper and he went to sleep no bother. I celebrated with one glass of wine. I was so pleased my birthday had gone without any hiccups. My son had had numerous changes to his day and coped great. He had had a school trip, I had picked him up instead of his grandma, it was my birthday, he was sleeping at my house instead of his dad’s, I took him to football instead of his dad and he seemed fine. All of these things to any other child would seem great but not to my son. He needed the predictability of a usual day. Even then it hang by a thread but any change meant the thread got thinner and thinner. The thread was still attached at this point which was good.

I went to bed around 10 and fell into a deep relieved sleep. Not long after, my son shouted, I checked the time and it was 10.45, I stumbled out of bed and went to see what the matter was, my son needed a wee so we went to the bathroom. I was half asleep still not quite sure what was happening. My son had a wee and started telling me something. I had no idea what he was saying I asked him to repeat it, he did and I still had no idea. And then all hell broke loose and I mean really broke loose. My son went mad. What happened over the next hour and a half was truly shocking and I don’t think I will ever ever come to terms with, or be able to talk about it openly to people who don’t need to know. By half past midnight it was done, I felt sick, I was shivering with cold or shock or both, my face was red and blotchy from crying, my nose was sore from wiping it, I felt like I would never be the same again after what I had just witnessed. And at 1am that night when my son, and daughter were finally asleep, me and my husband were drinking a cup of tea in bed (mine had extra sugar in) we decided that birthdays absolutely did not suit my son. The lots of changes that he had to endure for my birthday were clearly too much for him. And I said next year we would just pick a day that suited my son and say that was my birthday and do nothing. And after a while we finally drifted off into a fitful horrible sleep.

The consequences of what happened on my birthday night will linger for a long long time. My daughter never went to school the next day nor did my son. I was a wreck and am still a wreck two days later. Even my husband was a wreck. I spoke to the appropriate people about what happened that night and left it in what I believed to be their capable hands. Only time will tell if that’s true, over 24 hours since I told them though and nobody has gotten back to me. I wanted to remove everything from the house that reminded me of my birthday. I never wanted to see or speak of this day again yet I knew I would have to, probably over and over again to various people.

The only thing we could do at this stage was learn from it. No matter how many times I thought I knew that my son wasn’t capable of too much change I still went and did it. Even the slightest change was too much for him, even if it was a change he wanted to do. I should have known better. But it’s really hard to wrap my head round it. Next year would be so so different. No tea party, no matter how small. Just a normal day with a few cards on a day that fit in with my son’s schedule, a weekend day so he didn’t have school to think about either. That was my plan. And I thought it was a good plan until the next day when my son said…..

“Next year your birthday is on a Thursday Mam.”

I started getting palpitations and asked him how do you know that?? He answered….

“Because your birthday changes every year. This year your birthday was on a Wednesday, next year it’s on a Thursday. This year my birthday is on a Friday, next year it’s on a Saturday.”

And my plan went out the window.