Month: November 2017

There are a lot of people around me having babies.  That always leads to conversations like, “when I was pregnant…” from everyone who has ever carried a baby.  I have heard a few people say, “I was so scared that I would have an ugly baby.  My worst fear was having an ugly baby.”

REALLY?!  Of all of the horrible things that can happen, your greatest fear was an ugly baby?  What about fetal death?  Horrible birth defects that lead to physical and cognitive impairments and various health implications?  Heart defects?  Chromosomal abnormalities?  Some random unknown-unheard-of-affliction that might be special to your child and no doctor has ever seen or heard of it?  I feared everything while I was pregnant with my babies, and I hardly gave a second thought to what they would look like.  My first pregnancy ended in emergency surgery at seven weeks (it was ectopic), so that set me up for worry for any and all pregnancies that followed.

Do you know what my “greatest fear” was?  Autism.  Because I worked with kids who were on the spectrum, I knew (correction, I thought I knew!) what it was like.  The parents always seemed so sad.  It was an effort to get their kids to therapy.  It was an effort to get them to interact.  Small everyday things seemed such a challenge.  Everything just seemed to require so much effort.  Hard.  Sad.

I guess you could say that I’m here, just living my nightmare, my worst fear…but you know what?  Our lives are not a nightmare.  If I had to choose three words to describe my life, they would be:  blessed, full, contented.  Of course I have sad days, but the good days far outweigh the bad.

Are things harder sometimes?  Yes.  Are there things I wish Colin could do that he still can’t do?  Absolutely.  Do I wish things were easier for him?  Do I want a “normal” life for him?  Do I worry about him and his future?  yes, yes, and yes.

I guess I’m writing this post to say this:  you never really know what you can do until you’re given the opportunity.  I went to graduate school with a girl who really enjoyed working with kids on the spectrum.  She said once, “I guess if anyone were going to have an autistic child, it should be me because I would know what to do with them.”  I panicked inside when she said that and thought, “ah, not me!”  And yet, God gave me a son with autism.

He gave him to me.  He allowed me the opportunity to be his Mommy.  As I type this, I see the verbage I chose:  gave, allowed, opportunity.  You see, my son is a gift.  He is exactly as God intended him to be, and I get to be his Mommy.   Ten years ago, I would not have chosen those words to describe having a child with autism.  But, here is the thing I missed all those years ago when I was terrified of having a child with autism:  he is my baby.  First and foremost, he is Colin.  He is my sweet, cuddly, energetic, curious, silly, beautiful boy.  He just happens to have autism.  It is just a part of him, it does not define who he is or who he will become.

I whole heartedly believe that God puts people in our lives because we need each other.  I have been extremely blessed to have some amazing people in my life.  My family is very close, and I know that they love my children *almost* as much as I do!

I met most of my tribe through college and work.  My college friends are still around, seven years after we graduated.  We can go months and months without seeing each other, and pick up where we left off. 

My best friend is an OT who I worked with at my first job.  She’s my constant. We text everyday.  From seeking advice on parenting to texting each other pop culture memes and t-rex costume videos, I can always count on her to be there for me.

Because I’m a therapist, I have so many other therapists whom I call friend.  I have friends and colleagues whose opinions I trust and value.  They are invaluable to me.

As an early intervention therapist, I have been invited into others’ homes.  I had one family in particular that I really connected with. We are now friends, and our children are friends.  She is a mother I look up to.

Early intervention led me to a particular daycare.  After meeting the staff, I decided to take my own boys there.  They are absolutely amazing with Colin, and I couldn’t be more grateful for them.

I’m sure you have your own village.  Use them!  Ask for help.  Take them up on offers to help you.  Ask for advice.  Complain to them. Celebrate victories with them.  Don’t keep things to yourself.  I really think it helps to have someone to talk to.  You go find yourself a cheerleader.  Find encouragers.  Find good listeners. Find those whose opinions and knowledge you value.  Find someone who gets you, who understands your life right now.  Maybe that’s another special needs mom. 

One thing that I have found, no matter what season of life that I’m in, is that I, too, can be that person to someone else.  So your experiences and thoughts are going to help someone else, if you just put yourself out there.  You just may be that special someone to another mom out there, and you don’t even know it yet!

I often think that God gave me Colin because I am a therapist, and I would be able to see his needs and know how to help him.  Really though, I think He sent me down the path of speech pathology because he knew Colin and I would need the village I would meet along the way.  He knew what and who we needed long before I ever had a clue!

Last night was Halloween, so we did the obligatory trick or treating.  We weren’t going to go, but Finn’s preschool class had talked about it, so he wanted to “go to Halloween.”  Thanks, Mrs. Jessica.  Thanks for that.  (but really, thanks!  He even told me, “I knew the police officer and the fireman, but I didn’t know the other peoples’ names, so you need to check my candy to make sure it’s safe.”)  I wasn’t sure how Colin would do, so those situations have stressed me out in the past.  Recently, I’ve been more relaxed about events like this.  If he does okay, GREAT!  If he doesn’t, then we will just cut his evening short and head home.

Of course Finley walked up to everyone and said, “trick or treat!”  Colin is nonverbal, so he didn’t say anything.  I helped him lift up his bag for people to put candy in it.  The first man put candy in his bag, and Colin leaned in and looked, like, “what is this?!”  By the third person, he was jumping up and down with excitement when the candy was dropped in his bag.  And of course he had to take a peek each time.  I was so proud of him!

My philosophy has changed over the years.  When the boys were tiny (and only a year and six days apart), I didn’t want to do things if it was going to be hard, too much work, or potentially stressful (for him and myself).  Now, I realize that we need to do these things.  If he never gets to go trick or treating, how will he learn?  If we had not gone last night, the boys would have missed out on that whole Halloween tradition.  Not only that, but I would have missed out on seeing the joy on their faces as they received and ate alllllll that candy (that we checked for safety first!  Thanks again, Mrs. Jessica).