The ASD Diagnosis- my letter to my son

December 20, 2011

Dear Buddy:

You were diagnosed yesterday at our first psych consult. I was not as upset as I thought I’d be. Mostly because we’ve suspected something was wrong for a while and I was in denial. Not my precious baby boy. I wish I could love and hug this disorder away. I have always associated autism with children who didn’t hug , didn’t laugh, or show love. Children who didn’t act silly, like my baby boy. I have always been petrified of autism because I associate it with a children’s version of Alzheimer’s. The diagnosis in a way is relieving because now at least we have a name for it, and we have some therapies for it. Might not have a cure yet, but at least we can do something versus just spin our wheels.

I am devastated, like a part of you is gone—locked away beyond our reach. I feel robbed of the whole you. I wish someone would tell me what to do with these emotions but I also know I can’t let them keep me down and that I must move forward for you. We need to give you all the therapies and love possible. I worry for the future and what it will bring. But then I realized maybe I can learn something from this journey? Maybe I can learn more about my son and learn how we can help each other.  Maybe this disorder does not mean a doom and gloom future or an end to all my dreams for you. It just means we will have more obstacles along our way.

Here is my promise to you baby:

I promise to always love you as only a mother can.

I promise to always be your voice and advocate. No matter what.

I promise to get you all the therapies and exhaust all options.

I promise to never give up hope.

I promise to keep my goals and wishes for your future unchanged- regardless of this diagnosis. This isn’t blind faith—I know you can learn to speak at your age level, I know you can overcome autism. You can do anything baby. And I will help you get there.

I love you baby. I always have, the moment I knew about you, the size of a jelly bean. My precious baby boy. All this love has to cure. It has to. Because we all love you so.

Love you baby.

Having kids is a roller coaster ride

Having kids changes you. It makes you more vulnerable. The minute you see them, they become your everything. You thought you loved your husband, your parents, your siblings, your 1st dog or pet hamster, your 1st car, baseball. Nah-- that's nothing compared to the love you have for your children. Heck- you feel that way the moment you know you have a little jellybean in your tummy. Well atleast when you're the mom. I suspect with the men it comes a little later when the baby resembles a human.  Each ultrasound, (and I mean all of them- I had many since both my pregnancies were high risk), is a mess of angst, begging God that everything goes ok, and absolute joy and wonder, to that exhale when they tell you everything looks good. But that 1st moment you see your baby-- that is magical. Sure you're exhausted, in pain, and maybe in shock from the experience (with your 1st at least) but it is wonderous.

And then the roller coaster begins! The highs, the lows, the in between lull. The well check ups, the shots, the 1st cold, the 1st fever, a missed developmental milestone, even a pooped diaper are all reasons that can start that roller coaster in motion. And then a hideous beast of illness comes into our life and affects your children, you shatter. Oh the pain and hurt!!

Autism scares the crap out of me. And so when our 3 year was diagnosed right before Christmas 2011, it shattered our life. When our oldest daughter was diagnosed with torticollis, it scared us. Each appointment to a specialist, therapist, early intervention folks, all of it-- there's that roller coaster. And yet your babies go on being children and we try to keep sane! Life with children changes your whole life.