I am shocked at the amount of people who have reached out to me recently. Some who were diagnosed with autism themselves and some who have had questions and/or concerns about their own child. I am no expert, but I love that people are talking about it. That is my intention.
The most recent person to reach out really touched my heart. I’ll call her “Nikki.” Nikki has a son who got a recent diagnosis. She is really struggling with it. Nikki asked how I dealt with it. You know, D-day? For those who are new here, that means Diagnosis Day. My mind instantly went back to that day, that moment. And my heart ached. My heart ached for all the things I know Nikki will go through.
“Autism Spectrum Disorder” they say, and the tears you try to hold back fall from your eyes.
I know the feeling. No really, I know the exact feeling. It’s like a punch to the gut. All the air is suddenly being sucked from your lungs. You can’t believe it’s true. No way is it true. Not my kid. We did everything right.
I know the hope, the hope that just maybe they are wrong. Maybe you need a second opinion, even though in your heart, you know.
I know the guilt. You feel like it’s your fault. You look back at every moment of your pregnancy and all the time after trying to figure out what you did wrong.
I know it is not your fault, but I also know you won’t believe it.
I know the anxiety, the debilitating anxiety. It will swallow you up if you let it.
I know the hurt you will feel when someone makes a comment about his behavior.
I know the heartache you will feel for your son when you see him struggle.
I know the fear you will have for the future.
I know you will lose friends because they don’t understand.
I know you will neglect yourself to care for him.
I know the sadness your heart will feel.
What I hope for you is that the sadness doesn’t last long.
Because I also know the love you feel for your child. No diagnosis will change that.
I know that you will become a better version of yourself because of your son.
I know the patience you will develop.
I know you will learn his triggers and what works for him.
I know you will learn some hard lessons on what doesn’t work for him.
I know the joy you will feel when he finally looks into your eyes.
I know the happiness you will feel when you find your tribe.
I know the pride you will feel when he learns to dress himself.
I know the relief you will feel when he starts to eat more foods.
I know the tears will fall when he says “I love you” for the first time.
I know you will learn not to take little things for granted.
I know you will see the world from his eyes.
I know the fierce protection you have for him.
So, you asked me Nikki, how I dealt with it? The honest answer is that I didn’t. Not in the beginning. Not until I went through my own grieving process for the things that I thought I lost. It is 100% OK to say that you are not OK. In the beginning, I was not OK.
What I lost in the beginning was myself, in a pit of despair. It was hard. I always felt like I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t doing enough. I wasn’t home enough. I wasn’t working with her enough. I just wasn’t enough of anything to anyone.
But let me tell you, when I drug myself out of that pit, which took a little longer than I would like to admit, I gained infinitely more. My life became so full of beauty and wonder and love and amazement and joy.
I became myself again.
I know you will too.
The Beautiful Life of Brenly 