Getting assessed (part 2)

I am fortunate to be in "the industry" of assessments if you will.
I have at my disposal an arsenal of psychologists, social workers, district staff and other experts who are my colleagues and friends.
I asked who I should consult for Aidan's assessment, and after a couple of days I had the process going for an assessment through the district, and one through a private neuropsychologist.
I did what I was supposed to do..
I did what I had to do for my son.
But that knot in my stomach? Where was it coming from? Why was I so anxious even though I was doing the right thing?

Aidan was not doing well with the behavior plan. He was acting out, and really testing everyone. It was difficult.
I motored along, doing what I was supposed to do, and doing it well until...
The assessment plan paperwork from the district arrived.
How many have I seen from my clients parents? how many assessment plans have I advised parents about? how many have I taken for granted over the years because it was not MY child getting assessed?
But here it was, in black and white: I would sign and my son would be assessed. Here was proof that something was wrong, and it was clear as day.
I was signing a paper to find out WHAT is wrong with my son. My dear, sweet, and funny son.
The son I fought so hard for.
The son I wanted so much.
I was signing to find out whether Aidan had inherited what I feared most: My school problems.
It threw me for a loop.
I cried.
I was mad.
I sobbed.
I grieved the reality that something could be wrong with my precious son, and I was overwhelmed at the prospect of what.
Could my fears become real?