And Just Like That, Hope Bubbles Up
There is a funny thing that happens when you have a child with autism. When I walked out of Cooper’s diagnosis appointment, I felt every single emotion possible. We waited for 7 months for that appointment. The day came. The appointment happened. We got the diagnosis. We left. I cried. Everything was immediately different yet exactly the same. I was not the same woman that I was just a few minutes prior.
I was an autism parent. A special needs parent. I had a label. I was immediately different from other parents. I felt like it was tattooed on my forehead. I immediately questioned everything I did during my pregnancy. I hated my body for failing this child.
I felt every single emotion possible. But they were flying at me so fast I couldn’t actually make out one from another. It was a flood.
Relief. Sadness. Confusion. Isolation. Fear. Embarrassment. Anger. Desperation. Grief.
And then after some time, I slowly started to accept it. Reality hit.
This will sound crazy to you but a day will come when you will tell someone that your child has autism and it will be a good thing. That sounds ludicrous right now. Just believe me. The day will come and you will say it and you will see understanding in a strangers eyes. And you will be thankful that you can explain to people why your child is hitting them self in the head. Or rolling on the ground screaming. I am there now. My beautiful son has nonverbal, severe autism and he is amazing. We are doing great.
And then, two therapists say to you that they think Cooper could be verbal. He could maybe go to a traditional school. And they don’t think his autism is severe. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I spent years accepting severe autism. I almost lost myself, my sanity and my hope in the process. And then I hear the words that I so desperately needed to hear when he was first diagnosed. This might be okay. This might be fine.
I was hit again with every emotion. Confusion, hope, fear, excitement.And just like that friends, once again, hope bubbles up.
This is a heavy video full of honesty and emotion. Please be kind.
Have a newly diagnosed child? Start here: https://findingcoopersvoice.com/2016/12/02/to-the-parent-of-a-newly-diagnosed-child/
Hi Kate! You are so articulate and I couldn’t help but have tears rolling at this one. It reminded me of when my son’s ST told me out of the blue, “you know, I see a lot of kids like him and I just feel like speech is going to come for him,” I was excited and doubted it and cried right there. But, slowly, his speech did come…I was excited to see him engage with music and there is this cd that helped him—It was called “Sing Out” and I got it online from frantically googling ;)—He used to try to sing to it in the car and when I would hear him in the back trying to make noises to the songs and then eventually getting some of the sounds…I was filled with tears of joy….Anyway, I am rambling. You are so great. I am happy for you guys.