Chloe called right as we were about to leave. "Hey," I said, my stress level at a nine out of ten.

"What can I do to help?" she asked simply.

"I don't think anything," I said honestly, though I wished she was there, so much.

"I'm just going to meet you guys there anyway," she said decidedly. "I won't get in the way."

Relief coursed through me. "Okay," I agreed, because I needed her.

She was there when we arrived, opening the door and keeping Hailie busy in the check-in line, then playing with her in the less-than-clean waiting room while I tried to jot down everything I wanted to talk to the psychiatrist about. Mary Anne, who was A Real Person, sat in her carrier with her tiny rose bud smile, just being a mindless doll, and I envied her thoroughly.

When we were called she came back with us, making small talk with the nurse and letting me off the hook except for health questions. Then Hailie's doctor was waving us into her office, and Chloe squeezed my hand with both of hers. "I'll be right here," she promised, settling into a chair nearby as people in scrubs bustled around us.

That promise was a beautiful thing.

Hailie immediately began to play with the baby toys on the floor during her appointment and refused to talk to the doctor, who wasn't fazed. This was how all of our appointments went, and she was used to children who were "twice exceptional"; delayed and advanced at the same time.

I told her about the obvious gluten intolerance, and she was glad to hear it.

"That's often the case with gluten and casein," she said agreeably, and I wondered why she hadn't suggested it then.

But I'd learned that doctors were nearly all like that; few had helpful, proactive suggestions, unless it included medication.

She wrote something on the computer, pushing her glasses up into her sensibly short brown hair. I liked her for the most part. She'd been the one to get us the appointment with the psychologist who had done the autism and IQ testing, because she was the rare person who recognize a gifted autistic child.

She glanced at Hailie, who was jumping up and down and flapping her hands after completing a toddler puzzle. "And I see you're giving her three milligrams of melatonin. You can give more than that, you know. It's perfectly safe."

I nodded because she'd told me that when we were at two and a half milligrams and that's why I'd bumped it up. I tried to keep the melatonin as low as I could because it was a hormone that was supposed to be naturally produced by the body, and I didn't want her to have any more than she needed.

"And how are the meltdowns?" She slid her glasses back down to look at me.

I sighed. I was so tired I felt like I could stretch out on the rug and sleep right then and there. "Still bad," I admitted, feeling defeated and like a failure though I knew we were doing all we could for her. I turned to my cousin to include her. "Hailie," I said, and she tilted her head. "I'm going to talk to Dr. Milam about some of the troubles you're having, so she can maybe help us, okay?"

She nodded and moved on to the Legos.

"Well, we can start her on some sertraline, which I would recommend for her irritability, agitation, anxiety, and the meltdowns overall."

"Okay," I said, relieved for the second time that day. "Is it safe for children?"

She nodded. "We see a lot of success with it, with few side effects."

That was good enough for me just then. We went over a few more things and then our time was up. 

"Hailie, it's time to go," I said, having given her warnings at ten, five, and two minute intervals.

"No," she said off-handedly. She was playing with Legos at that point, the same ones she had at home, and had just finished making a boat.

"Your boat is done, and it's someone else's turn to come in," I tried coaxing, a jaw-breaking yawn taking over my face as I stood in the tiny office and refrained from nudging her with my foot.

She tugged on my shirt until I leaned over. "I want to take it home," she said in her loud whisper.

"If every kid took a toy home, there wouldn't be any toys left," I said, appealing to her sketchy sense of logic. "Now please, let's go. You can have a piece of a Hershey bar in the car." Hershey was gluten free, bless them.

I tried to rise but she pulled firmly on my shirt again. "I want to take it home," she insisted, holding the boat tenderly in her hands. "I made it and it's special to me. Some other little kid will just come in here and smash it and take it apart and it's my hard work."

"I understand, but it's not ours to take," I tried, my patience so thin, my eyes hot and dry with fatigue. The doctor winced sympathetically. "You used more than half the Legos to make it, and if you took it, Dr. Milam wouldn't have enough Legos left for anyone else to build anything."

"But you can just tell her and she could just let me have it because I made it!" she whispered even louder, focused so much on having the boat that she was working herself up to a meltdown. This was when she often had a morning nap, and she was tired, and going to the doctor was so overstimulating for her it usually ended this way.

Then there was the pizza she'd had, which was full of gluten and had caused most of this. Lucky for my aunt, though, she was passed out and complete unaffected by any of this nightmare I was currently living.

"Her mom gave her regular pizza apparently," I told the doctor. "Here," I said, pulling the coveted chocolate bar from my purse and tearing the wrapper. "Have some of this and let's get outta here." Sometimes distracting her casually worked if it was smooth enough.

"I can't leave without MY BOAT!" she wailed, covering it with her body and starting to sob. In her head the boat was now her close and personal friend whom she was abandoning. Her oversensitivities ruled her emotions and she couldn't regulate them even when she was calm.

"I know you love your boat, and we can make it again next time we come. I'm going to pick you up now, please just come with me without a fuss, okay?" I pleaded as someone knocked on the door lightly. Our time had been up five minutes earlier. 

I somehow managed to gather her up even as she became deadweight, making it hard to keep her in my arms. "Hailie, stop," I said tiredly, wishing I was anywhere else doing anything else.

The doctor held the door open and we slipped out past the waiting mother, who averted her eyes, and her preteen, who did not.

But Chloe was there too, and deftly took my purse as well as the doll in her carrier, guiding me with her hand on the small of my back to the nearest exit. "It's okay," she said, to me; something I rarely if ever heard though I said it so often myself. "We've got this, it's over now. I'm here."

This made me so emotional I almost joined my cousin in her crying, especially as exhausted as I was. "Thank you," I told her gratefully.

"Here we go," she said, holding open the door, and we all squinted at the sudden brightness of the sun. She walked with us to my minivan and slid open Hailie's door. "Let's get loaded up." She helped me buckle the car seat straps and set the doll down, shutting the door and taking me into her arms. "You're doing a great job, Luna. I really admire you."

The kind words were like a cool balm over my burning being. Whatever I had done to deserve this gentle, beloved soul was beyond me but I was so thankful for her. "I appreciate you," I told her, not wanting to scare her off with the L word, but meaning that too. 

She let me go and kissed me and smiled as we went to the driver's side. "Same. You good to drive?"

I nodded, getting in. Hailie was winding down, and I felt okay again. "Thank you again," I told Chloe, and she reached in to boop my nose, making us both laugh a little. "I'll call you later when it's safe to come over." God only knew how long my aunt would stay asleep for.

"Please do," she said, and I watched her go to her car with her dancy walk as I wondered what I'd ever done without her.

a/n the amount of melatonin being given to Hailie and being suggested for her is pretty high; if you use melatonin for yourself or your child please use the smallest dose (a third of a mg will often do it for a child to start with) and work your way up as needed, so as to avoid serious health risks and issues. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk on melatonin 😌