Tormented

It's been over 6 months since we began the process of "helping Daniel with his challenges". I still don't know what to call "it", and it still brings tears to my eyes when I talk (or write, or read) about "it". 
If I call it a disorder, I feel like I am giving him something too "difficult", if I don't call it anything, I feel like I am covering up or ignoring reality.
My family seems to think I am making too big a deal of it, that Daniel is just a normal, healthy boy with some speech difficulty or delay at worst.
My husband, while not immediately, agrees that the issues are deeper, but still feels and thinks Daniel is more normal than abnormal.
And me?
I am torn between what I want to believe, what the professionals say, and what i know deep inside me to be true....
A mother knows.
Perhaps that is why I keep tearing up. I don't need a tag or a psych report to tell me.

I am on a flight, on my way to a week long vacation with my best girl friend (to an unplanned destination, different than that I was headed to when i left home, but that's a whole other post). A week meant for pure girl fun, shopping, rest.  A vacation that I planned hoping it will recharge me, "get the colors back in my cheeks". I should be on cloud nine (forgive the pun), thinking of nothing but positives.

And yet, here I am, 6 months after it all begun, still tearing up over a disorder/challenge/delay/impairment that my beloved son may or may not have and mourning the loss of the future i had dreamed for him.