Then you get pregnant, and things start to change a little with the impending parenthood looming over your shoulders. You scramble to buy all the gear you think you'll need, you get unsolicited advice from strangers who may or may not have kids, and horror stories about birth. You choose to find out the sex, or maybe you don't. You think, "I'm going to buy this crib, and I'm going to make this my nursery theme, and I'm going to sing this lullaby to my baby. I'm going to dress him or her in these clothes, and I'm going to let them do certain things that other parents don't. I'm going to be successful in everything I think I want to do, because that's just how parenting is, isn't it?"
But then the baby comes, and it hits you...you were wrong. All that love you thought you'd feel? Multiply it by infinity and double it again...no, triple it. Quadruple?? All that baby gear you thought you would need? You need about 1/3 of it. The bassinet, the crib, the changing table, the wipe warmer and diaper genie...all optional. The bottles? Not always necessary. You realize sharing your bed is the only way to sleep because your infant has colic, or you realize crib sleeping is the only at to go because your child moves too much in their sleep. Maybe you have one who sleeps all night long, and you don't realize how lucky you are until the 4 month sleep regression.
Then comes the older stages, and you start to bring your nearly toddler out more and more to hang out with kids his or her age. And you realize something...my kid is different. She doesn't say anything at all, no babbling of any kind...just silence. He's not affectionate at all, it's like he doesn't even know I'm his mom. He won't smile, she does this weird thing with her hands that looks like she's flapping her wings. His first word was "gravel". Her favorite thing to do is spin in a circle. And you call your kid's name, and they don't answer. They don't even know you're calling them. You get their hearing checked, but it's perfect. They sit down in their toy room and spin the wheels on their cars all day long, and you realize it's not normal. They throw these big long tantrum like things, trying to hurt themselves, or screaming at the top of their lungs with eyes shut tight for half an hour with no breaks. Their breathing is ragged and labored, and you are scared to death. Something in the pit of your stomach says "something isn't right", so you ask around, seeing what might be wrong. Did your kid do this at this age? Did I? What is normal and what isn't? Am I crazy?
And at first, no one believes you. You get that crazy label like you dreaded...the label of "THAT mom". The mom who freaks out over seemingly "normal" toddler behavior. And when you post for the 10th time that day about how your kid won't eat corn because its "too bumpy", people tell you to force the issue, to keep them there until they finish their dinner, to spank them and make them behave because it's "bad". But you don't. And then someone comes along who tells you you were right all along. It might be the doctor, or a neighbor, or an online friend. It could be a group of people you never knew had this issue, because their kids seemed so "normal" to you. But they know. And you know. You're not alone, and you're not crazy.
So you do some research about developmental delays, and you find out your kid has some big red flags for autism. You bring him or her to the doctor and they say the kid is fine, developing normally. They don't seem concerned. And that's when it starts to get confusing. You question the validity of everyone else's point of view, how they see him, how normal their kids really are. You question whether or not you are crazy after all. But then you get someone else involved...Early Intervention. And they tell you they are concerned...and you believe them, because you are too.
The evaluation happens, and you are let down a bit, but with the possibility of some answers later in the game. You spend the next 3 months wondering what will happen, doing your best to help your child catch up with kids his age. Then comes the next evaluation, and you finally get the answers you were looking for.
You find out there is a big chance your child has autism.
For some, it can be a really scary moment. Maybe you don't know much about it, maybe you know the wrong things. Or maybe it's not scary, but a relief. Maybe you know more about it than your average person, and it really helps because you knew it all along. Maybe you're in denial...maybe you're just jaded from it all.
Maybe you're like me. Maybe the stress has been so overwhelming because you thought you were crazy to think this about your child, that the pseudo-diagnosis is comforting. It shows you you aren't crazy. It shows you that it's time to research therapies, and see what can be done to help your child reach their full potential. You enroll your child in speech, occupational therapy, physical therapy, behavioral therapy. All the therapies you can find. And you know what? It helps. It's not a huge, leap out of the water help, but it makes things easier to understand.
I guess my point is that when you're pregnant, and before you have kids, you never really think about how life would be raising a special needs child. You don't think, "oh, my kid will have autism." Or "my kid will have Down syndrome." You think "my kid is going to be this and that, and that's it."
It might be a thought on the distant horizon, but it's not all you can think about until it happens and you're right in the trenches.
To the moms of special needs kids of ANY kind: I salute you. I wrote this because my son is suspected to have autism and possibly sensory processing disorder (which of course sometimes goes hand in hand with autism). I love him BECAUSE he is who he is, because of his special needs. I never would have guessed he would be this amazing when I thought about having kids, he really surprised me.
Thanks to all the parents who do this daily. You are my heroes. <3
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