Hey, friends! Welcome back! I'm still trying to figure this thing out here. I'm pretty stubborn, so I'm sure I'll get it soon.
I know this has nothing to do with the crafty, DIY stuff I have planned for this blog, but I just wanted to share a little personal information with you. I spent my weekend indoors, reflecting on my personal growth. My birthday is coming up in a few weeks, and I was thinking about all I've done, seen, or lived through in my 38 years. I'm pretty proud of myself, too. I used to be just about the most impatient, high-strung, smart-mouthed southern girl you could imagine. Even in this part of the world, where that seems to be the norm. I'm still high-strung. I'm still smart-mouthed sometimes, but I really DO try to think before I speak nowadays. I'm not quite as impatient as I used to be, either, although I still have room for improvement there, too. I won't be mistaken for a genteel southern lady any time soon, but I'm working on it. And, you might ask, what brought about such a change? Easy. My son.
Now, before you flip out on me, let me assure you that I have not forgotten my girls. I love them tremendously, and I'm extremely proud of both of them. They just don't test me the way my son does. See, my son was diagnosed with ADHD and Asperger's back in 2011. This, in itself, doesn't test me. Sure, I'll admit, I was a hot mess for the first few months. My son was one month short of his sixth birthday at the time of his diagnosis, which means we missed out on all those awesome early-intervention programs that show so much progress in kids on the autism spectrum.
So, why didn't I seek help for him earlier? Great question! It's because, here, in the beautiful state of Georgia, there is no law requiring insurance companies to pay for autism treatment and therapy. The thought of not being paid keeps the doctors, therapists, and other professionals from wanting to settle here. Who can blame them? After they invest all the time, energy, and money to be educated to help these kids, I doubt they can afford do it for free. So they move out of state. Which led to many days and nights of tearful, pleading, begging, and, sometimes, ugly phone calls and confrontations with doctors and care-givers. I was pretty much banging my head against a wall 24 hours a day, knowing that we needed something more to help him, but having no idea how to get that help.
So even my kids' pediatrician (the one that we still see and love) couldn't really give us any suggestions, even though he DID agree with me that my son's behavior looked very much like autism. Then, after about two and a half years, his office called me to tell me they'd finally found a developmental pediatrician who'd been trained at the Marcus Center for Autism in Atlanta. So, she knew autism spectrum disorder very well. AND, most importantly, she accepted our insurance. We did have to wait six months for our appointment (one of those things that comes with the scarcity of qualified clinicians), but we finally had a glimmer of hope!
I wish I could tell you how it feels to have a child diagnosed with autism, but I just don't have the words. I went through all the stages of grief. Every single one. I don't know why, but I felt like my son's life was over, and it was all my fault. Then, I'd be mad at the world for not understanding how I felt. And my son? He just kept going, never changing, not even caring what label was slapped on him. He was still just as happy, just as loving, just as energetic as he'd ever been. I was almost angry at him, too, for being so blissfully unaware.
That's when I came back to my senses, so to speak. Somebody (I wish I could remember who it was!) had told me just after the diagnosis to read and study a particular scripture. When I looked it up, I was heartbroken.
You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.
Matthew 5:14-16
I couldn't see, at the time, how this was supposed to help me or my son. I see it a little more clearly now, though. And I've accepted that my son's life isn't going to be like I envisioned when he was born. But, most of society doesn't understand that he can still live a fulfilled and productive life. And I'm going to help him get there. I'm going to help him shine his light, and I'm going to do my best to let mine shine while we're at it. It's not going to be easy. It's not going to be fun all the time, although I certainly hope we still have SOME fun.
Now, friends, as much as I hate to admit it, I can't do this alone. My family can't do this alone. We need the love and mercy of our Heavenly Father. We need the expertise of those people who are trained to treat, teach, and provide therapy. We need the love and support of our families and friends. We need the compassion and acceptance of our community. So, please, when you see me trying to deal with my son's meltdown in the middle of Wal-Mart, please remember, we're just working on our lights. We'll get them back in working order as soon as we possibly can.
Disclaimer: I am by no means suggesting that autism is life-ending. It IS, however, life CHANGING. There are other developmental and physical disabilities and disorders that are far worse than autism, and I do not intend to diminish the seriousness of any of those. This is simply our story, as experienced by my family. And we acknowledge that we are not experts in ANY field, including autism.
