Peace is not something you can manufacture by naming every possible danger, and I want you to hear that with kindness. You have brought your son's sleep, meals, habits, caregivers, siblings, travel, and health before the Lord, and he has heard every syllable. But rest will come as you trust his attention more than your own thoroughness. He is not waiting for a perfect, complete prayer before he acts. He already knows what your son needs.
The peace you are asking for is the peace that entered the world when God took on human form. A newborn cried, then slept in a feeding trough, and in that weakness God was at work redeeming us. That same God is not far from your son's bed or your own weary hours.
When the shepherd called his flock in the morning, the sheep knew his voice and came out to follow him. Your son is not a case to the Lord. Jesus knows his particular fears, his body, his confusion, and his needs. You can ask him to calm what feels chaotic without anxiously rehearsing every possible setback.
One night a man fell asleep in a hard, desolate place, frightened and tired, with no felt sense of God. He dreamed of a ladder planted on earth and reaching into heaven. When he woke, he said, "The Lord is in this place and I did not know it." The peace you want for your household may begin exactly there. Even when the night feels barren and your son seems restless, God is already present. He is not waiting to arrive.
He saw Jacob's years of heat by day and frost by night, and he did not forget his affliction. He sees your interrupted rest and the exhausting labor of caring for your son. He sees the mealtime pain, the sensory battles, the worry about your daughter and the household. None of it is hidden from him.
You have asked boldly for healing of mind, body, soul, and spirit, and it is right to ask. Jesus welcomed children and healed them. But hold this distinction close: the Lord redeems us out of all distress, not always by keeping us from every distress. Sometimes healing comes through the storm rather than by removing it. That does not mean you stop asking. It means you can ask with open hands, trusting that Christ is with you either way.
I am asking him to quiet your son's body and mind, to ease the fear around eating, to protect your household in the night, and to give you the rest that surpasses understanding. I am also asking him to replace the weight of constant watchfulness with the confidence that the Good Shepherd is watching. Cast the details on him, and let your own soul lie down in his care.