When my son turned two, our pediatrician first mentioned Autism. We had been keeping an eye on my son’s speech, knowing he was delayed. He was never non-verbal, but also not where he should have been. Cal is our one and only child, so there was no other child to compare him to. In my and my husband’s eyes, no child compared to ours.
There are two things that happen when you get pregnant, or you talk about having children, in regards to special needs:
1. You either talk about special needs and everything you’ll do the very second you notice something off.
2. You don’t talk about it at all because you know nothing outside of your very comfortable bubble.
Both of these things are problematic. Like any not-yet-parents, we all say what we’ll do in certain situations. We all say how well handle it, and how our child will be perfect and have zero issues. And if we know nothing of disability (seen or unseen, ie. physical or mental) then why would we discuss it?
So then comes the day your doctor brings up Autism.
No. No way. Your child may be delayed but isn’t autistic. You know nothing of Autism other than that your child definitely does not have it. “My child acts nothing like Dustin Hoffman in Rainman” you may think, so surely this can’t be true. You dig your heels in until the day comes that it simply cannot be denied.
This was me when my son was two. Come hell or high water, my son did not have Autism. Over the course of that year, I made sure of that. I overcompensated for problem behaviors. I talked to the wrong people. Not bad people … I talked to people I love and respect dearly, but at the end of the day, they didn’t know much about the Autism Spectrum either. So I was consistently told everything I wanted to hear.
“He’s just an active boy.”
“Boys develop later than girls.”
“Don’t worry so much. He’ll figure it out.”
But then we got to right around three, and aggression really started to come out. It was aggression towards myself and towards others. Some situations have left a very painful mark in my life. Little traumas, I heard someone say once.
I remember meeting with an occupational therapist for the first time, and she said, “You’ve basically been trying to cage and control an animal that cannot be caged anymore.” And she was right.
I didn’t understand how lack of communication and overstimulation (or under) can have such a hellacious effect. It was like a mask came over my child. My baby boy was gone and someone I didn’t recognize took over. And then when it was over, it was like the flip of a switch, and there he was again. Never really acknowledging what just transpired.
I finally came to a place where I had to lay my pride down. I had to admit that I needed help and more than that, my precious child needed help. I had to admit that I was wrong. I had to admit no matter how much I tried, I just wasn’t enough. And you know what? That’s okay. None of us are. From this place, I was then provided with just the right supports my son needed and that we needed as a family. And then lights came on.
Pride can look like digging your heels in. Pride can also look like shame.
Maybe you feel embarrassed. Not necessarily by your child, but that shame of feeling like you did something wrong, or that you didn’t measure up. I remember telling a friend in the car, “I was given one chance of having a baby and I failed him.”
I remember when everything hit the fan, I had this feeling of being naked in front of everyone. The truth was out. No one in my family was perfect. I was exposed as the failure mom. Someone help me find some pants.
But the truth is, you didn’t fail. I didn’t fail. You simply didn’t know. You don’t know what you don’t know. And guess what? There’s still time!
To the mama who’s walking in shame. The mama who isn’t getting your child the help they might need because you’re scared, I’m sorry to tell you, that’s pride. Pride is always putting yourself first. And it can look like arrogance or it can look like shame. Don’t allow yourself to be robbed of help-help for yourself, and especially, help for your child.
You are their advocate. You are their fighter, their motivator, their biggest cheerleader. You are not doing anyone any favors by covering up what you don’t want seen. Believe me, I wasted a year doing this. It ended up hurting my son the most. Someone told us something profound that stuck with us “Pay for it now, or pay for it later.” And I can assure you, every year that goes by, the harder things will be.
Autism, or a similar diagnosis, never means failure of anyone. It simply means different.
And once you have the right supports around you, you’ll see the beauty. You’ll still experience the hard, no doubt, but you’ll see the beauty. And I’d really hate for anyone to miss a single day of that beauty. Don’t let your child’s deficits stand in the way and overshadow their strengths. Find help so their strengths are what shine. So you and your child can learn and grow together. Lay down your pride, however it may look. I promise it will be worth it.
“You’ve done nothing wrong. You didn’t cause this. You haven’t failed your child. You were given an instruction manual for a Ford and your child is a Ferrari. So, congratulations! Your child is NOT fundamentally different from other children. You just need the right instruction manual. Parenting your child will be more intense. You’ll need more patience and time. Your child will have intense emotions and needs. But they’ll also have intense curiosity, drive, determination, desire, persistence and individuality. What you’ll need to find is the right fuel, the right environment and the right supports. With those, your child has great potential. With the right supports, he will have a happy and fulfilling life.”
-HuffPost Parents-
