Got change?

Many parents feel completely overwhelmed and devastated when their child receives a diagnosis of autism. To be honest, I felt like a part of me and my child died that day in the doctors office when we received the dx on my youngest son first. You can read the complete story by clicking "Links to this post" at the bottom of this page. This was not how I envisioned the future. I went through what they call "the 7 stages of loss", and not necessarily in the following order. Heck, I think over time I have even "revisited" one or two of the stages a couple of times, including going through all of them at the doctors office that day (yeah, I must get around to apologizing to my son's pediatrician). In case you are wondering what they are:pain & guilt, anger & bargaining, depression, acceptance, change, and hope. Maybe you are in one of these stages right now. I think each parent goes through these stages, at their own pace. And why can't we? I don't know about you, but I did not carry my son for 9 months thinking that I was going to have to take my son to speech, occupational therapy, psychologists, advocate the heck out of school just to get my son's rights to an equal education met(story for another time), neuro-developmental pediatricians,tons of testing, only buy certain foods (because that IS all he will eat), only buy certain clothes (because that IS all he will wear), not sing happy birthday (because he covers his ears and absolutely hates it - maybe it's my singing. I'll investigate further on that one and get back to you). I could really go on, but I know you aren't reading this because you don't have anything to do, especially if you are an autism parent or caregiver. I hope if you are in the early stages of loss that this will help you realize that you are not alone. I have heard from other parents that they just can't do it. I say you just can't do it right now. Their is support that can help push you into the positive side of loss. Maybe you already have a form of support (spouse, family, friend, support group, etc.), but you just aren't ready. That's OK. All in due time, my friend. Never let anyone make you feel guilty about taking the time you need. Why? Because when you are ready to move on,you WILL be better prepared to help your child. When I got to this stage, I literally went into overdrive, obsessed (and still am) with learning about anything having to do with autism, supports, services, the law, therapies, etc. I was ready for change. Maybe you won't be as "obsessed" as I was. Either way, you and your child will benefit from your confidence in overcoming your "loss". It's easier to accept change when we have had time to process the unexpected. And let's face it, if we want change - something in us has to have time to change first.

Did you just call my son the "A" word?

As I was sitting there watching the doctor give my 5-day old infant boy the "once-over", I couldn't help but to hold my breath and await to hear that everything was OK
"-Yep, he looks perfectly healthy. In fact, he is about the healthiest baby I've seen today. Most of the babies coming in today are jaundiced."
Ok, now I could breath. After all, that's what I had been waiting to hear all day. Although he wasn't sleeping a lot during the night, in fact waking on the dot every two hours round the clock, I figured it would get better as he got older. After all, he was supposed to be fed at these times anyway, and the nurse said he looked healthy. Contently, I drove home, unaware of what the future hold, but with a positive attitude. It will get better.
The months seemed to fly by and I seemed to feel more and more exhausted. My husband, doing the best he could to help out with the night time wakings, was starting to wear on him as well. We both knew that once he was awake, it was almost impossible to get him back into the crib without kicking and screaming. Having to get up early and go to work, we agreed that I would get up with the baby at night during the week, and he would let me sleep in on the weekends. I spent the nights on a couch in his room, afraid to almost get comfortable because he would wake up the minute I would start to relax. Things were not getting better. They were getting worse. He seemed so overly-sensitive to just about everything.
I was doing the dishes one day and he was in his playpen, when I noticed that he was just sitting there backed in a corner staring at something. I went over to see what it was. He seemed to be in some kind of a trance over some flashing lights on a ball. I called his name. He didn't even flinch. I kept calling desperately trying to get his attention, but he appeared to be totally unaware that I was even there. He picked up the ball and began mouthing it only now he was looking in my direction but seemed to be looking right through me. Horrified and not knowing what to think of this, I picked him up and just held him. Things will get better, I thought.