Sometimes, it’s still hard to talk about. Sometimes, the blame and guilt are so heavy that it feels like an anchor that’s attached to my foot, one that resides in the middle of quicksand. Sometimes, I can’t find the strength to step outside of it, so I find myself sitting in the middle, focused on taking the next breath…and then another. Sometimes, but not all the time.
Blog contribution from Winging It: The Okay Mom Way
I have a beautiful little free spirit in my middle child. She plays hard, fights fierce, and loves with abandon. This strong willed little thing has taught me some big lessons.
By ARTC Founder, Tracy Sekhon:
As I read through the previous blog posts and the many stories, mostly of hope and healing, in my blog file, in preparation for this new post…a wave of emotion came over me as I realized how much more our stories are the same, than they are different. Sure, the details of our journeys vary.
Blog contribution by Love & Autism
In 2014, what began as a local conference has turned into a movement to change how the world views autism. If you have a child with an autism diagnosis, you have probably been surrounded by the negative, doomsday way of thinking that says “there is no hope for your child”. We are here to tell you, that is NOT true. How do we know? Because we listen! We listen to autistic voices. If you really want to know what something is like, go straight to the source. As parents, you are yearning for a deeper understanding of what it means to be autistic. This makes sense. We know you want to better support your child now and want hope for your child’s future.
Sleep. For some of us, there is/was little. And, for all of us, it is/was hard. I haven’t forgotten the many days, weeks, months and (yes) years, without enough because I spent most nights holding my baby, often in the upright position.
We called Luca our “hold me baby” because most often, he refused to be put down. We would swaddle him tight and lay him horizontal for a short period of time…but it didn’t ever last. He simply could not stay asleep when he wasn’t in our arms and in a vertical position, wrapped up tight in a blanket. It was bizarre to me, that he wasn’t overwhelmed with being held so much. But, my little boy needed to be held A LOT, so we held him. And, though I didn’t understand why it was such a challenge, I wasn’t willing to overlook the fact that he needed something different than other babies. It made for very, very long nights and very groggy days.
by Marcia Hinds – Megan and Ryan’s Mom
It is not like I woke up one day and BAM my kid was better. Although Ryan is now an aerospace engineer, his recovery from autism was S-L-O-W. It took years. After two steps forward, he’d take one step back. Sometimes it was two steps forward, three steps back.
In the beginning of our autism nightmare, even I didn’t believe my son could get better or have any kind of life. Ryan had too many strange behaviors. Most times he acted like we weren’t there. I wanted some sign that he understood or heard anything we said. He gave us nothing. When I’d ask a doctor or teacher if kids with autism ever got better, their silence was my answer.