Hi. I’m Tiffany and this is my blog. I honestly have no idea what I’m doing but I do know that I want to share our story. Our autism story. If you would have asked me that 4 years ago, I would have said that I will absolutely not share our story. I wanted it to be private. I didn’t want people to know. I wanted our world to be hidden from all the cruelties that exist. I don’t let people in very easily, at least not when it comes to the big stuff. But, here I am, blogging for the world…or maybe the few people who will actually read it. I am going to be real, raw, vulnerable and honest…and I assure you I am not saying this to audition for the Bachelor.
So, here we go…
You know how in life, there are moments that are engraved in you forever? Happy or sad. Profound or mundane. Big or small. Doesn’t even matter. But, they are moments that change you. Maybe for the better, maybe not. I have had some of those moments in my life; the day my great grandma died, the day my dad died, the day I married my husband, the days my children were born. There are more, of course, but you get my point. One specific moment that I can see in my head just like it happened yesterday was at Brenly’s 2 year check up at the doctor’s office. At this point in her life, I didn’t have any concerns about her developmentally. She was a sweet, happy girl. She loved hugs and kisses and playing with her dad and I. And she was talking, maybe not as much as she should have been, but she was talking.
The appointment was going like all appointments go. Wait in the waiting room with a toddler for a half an hour, get called back. Height. Weight. Temperature. Blood pressure. Heart Rate. Blah, blah, blah. Then the doctor comes in and asks the heavy hitter questions. Is she eating? Has she been sick? Is she doing this? Is she doing that? We answer. Then out of left field, not like short left field. Like over the damn fence, longest home run in the history of baseball left field. “You know, she hasn’t looked at me the entire time you have been here. She might be autistic.” That. Was. It. There was no mention of the “A” word again. So nonchalant. Like it was no big deal. Like she didn’t just slice my heart wide open.
The days that followed this appointment were some of the worst I have ever had in my life. More on that next time. I guess this is where I say to be continued…
#thebeautifullifeofbrenly
The Beautiful Life of Brenly 