When I was a teenager, I had a sort of ‘second mother’. She and her family allowed me to spend every Sunday with them. Their only son was autistic. He was only a couple years older than me. He loved history and would draw historical maps. He was quiet, talked in a sort of monotone voice, and would only come in the room to say hello to me and then retreat to his own room.This was the first autistic person I ever knew. I felt comfortable around him. At that time I would never have dreamed that I would mother three autistic sons.
When our boy #3 (our oldest son with autism) was finally diagnosed, he was in second grade. He was extremely challenging and strong willed, but we thought he was just quirky and a little weird, which is a compliment in our family. Looking back, I can recognize it.. he was sensitive to sounds and clothes, he would only eat white foods for a long time, and was sensitive to textures. He would have meltdowns. We homeschooled him for his first few years, and when we decided it was time to put him in a public school… it quickly became apparent that he wasn’t like the other kids. Literally, for about two years, no school could contain this firey child. I was getting phone calls every few days from his school, usually about his escaping or throwing things.
When our boy #4 was diagnosed it wasn’t until he was in first grade. He is such a sweet, well-behaved boy that we spent all our time worrying about our #3 and although #4 did have many autistic tendencies, we didn’t think he was. His teachers suggested he be tested. He was having meltdowns in class over writing-prompts. His mind is so literal, that he would just shut down and meltdown over these silly writing prompts that he couldn’t make sense of. Looking back, we can see how orderly and literal he was. How he has difficulty understanding certain sayings or jokes. How he has and still does obsess over Thomas the Tank, and trains in general.
Our lowest functioning child on the spectrum is our boy #5, our youngest son on the spectrum. He is was diagnosed very early. He didn’t speak until he was around 4 years old. He would use two words for a long time. Stuck for anything he needed help with, and hug when he needed love or was sad or confused and needed comfort. He has since learned to speak pretty well, but still needs correction on his speech. He obsesses over sharks and most creatures with sharp teeth. He often uses echolalia (when he repeats things over and over and over again). He often goes into his own world. He meltdowns, but will do most anything for a soda. He barely eats anything, and it is a struggle jus to get him to finish a muscle milk every day.
So here’s the most common thing people say to me: “I don’t know how you do it”. Well. Here’s how I do it. I just wake up like everyone else and take care of my children. They can be challenging, and sometimes I feel overwhelmed. But I feel so very lucky to have these amazing people as my kids. They have taught me to be a better human. I have learned:
- Patience… since the diagnosis, I have found it easier to be patient with my kids. I have to remember they think differently. I have to parent differently.
- Compassion… the way I’ve navigated through life has been easy compared to what it’s been like for them, and how it will be as they become adults. It transfers to strangers. I have more compassion than I’ve ever had.
- Flexibility... my plans, my way won’t always be. My dreams have had to change. And that’s OK, I have new dreams now.
- Respect… I truly can’t understand what it’s like to be autistic. I see their tears and frustration and I have learned to respect them so much for just managing themselves so well.
- LOVE… let’s face it. Love is really all that matters on this whole earth. I have learned to love more than I ever did before. I’ve learned to love the hardest days because I look back on them and say, “that was nothing, I can handle anything now”. I’ve learned to love through the meltdowns.
I no longer comb the internet for the “cause” of autism. It simply doesn’t matter. They are perfect the way they were created.
My family is not a disappointment, it’s not something to feel sorry for. I am proud of our family. We bring diversity into a neurotypical world. We bring humor and genius and quirkiness. My family, autism and all, is my greatest blessing.