Sitting on the couch, my husband and I received a life-altering message as we waited for the psychologist. We had already glanced through the evaluation, but hearing it out loud was a different experience. “He exhibits numerous characteristics of Autism Spectrum Disorder.” Those words were devoid of warmth or empathy; they were merely a clinical assessment regarding our 7-year-old son. Was I surprised? No, but the reality hit harder than I anticipated.
After the appointment, we shared a silent lunch, each lost in thought. I texted my close friend, “I need you,” while trying to hold it together in the bustling restaurant. A year has flown by since that day, and it feels both like an eternity and a fleeting moment. I am not the same person I was then, overwhelmed by a sense of loss and confusion.
This year has been a journey of education, growth, and transformation. My husband and I committed to understanding everything we could about autism. Our son now sees a counselor and an occupational therapist who focuses on his sensory processing challenges. He participates in music therapy and takes supplements prescribed by his psychiatrist, as we are cautious about medication. We even invested in a trampoline for him to jump on and chewy sticks to help soothe his need for sensory input. We eliminated food dyes from his diet and enrolled him in a Montessori school that respects his individual learning pace. Most importantly, we’ve learned to embrace who he is and how to nurture him.
The past year has been a whirlwind of emotion. I’ve shed tears out of anxiety and heartache, knowing he perceives his differences. I’ve tried to shield him from his unique traits, hoping to normalize his anxiety and intense reactions, fearful of how he might view himself if he knew he was on the spectrum.
This journey has often felt isolating. My husband and I frequently feel like prisoners to our plans, unsure if our son will be willing to participate due to his anxiety and rigidity. Aside from school, one of us is always by his side since he struggles to trust caregivers, and those he does trust might not be equipped to manage his intense moments. It can be isolating when attempting to explain our situation to parents of neurotypical children who may not grasp the complexities we navigate or who offer advice that simply doesn’t apply.
My son is a wonderful child; he has the appearance of a typical American boy, but his mind often takes winding paths or unexpectedly plunges into chaos. I’ve experienced the harsh judgment from strangers when he has what we call an “epic meltdown” in public. I want to shout, “I’m not a bad parent raising a spoiled brat! I’m an engaged parent raising a child with challenges!” I was once quick to judge others, but now I face those moments with compassion, recognizing that every parent is doing their best in their own unique circumstances.
There have been days when I’ve collapsed onto my bed, lamenting, “I can’t do this anymore!” and moments when I’ve contemplated escape from the weight of it all. Yet, surprisingly, most days I feel immense gratitude. I cherish the little boy who inspires me to be more patient and compassionate, which has fostered a newfound sense of self-worth that eluded me for years. He views me as his anchor, and I see him as my guiding light. He has shown me resilience, and I no longer cower at the “what ifs” because I am embracing the challenges head-on and thriving. He has redefined my relationship with my husband, transforming it into a partnership where we support each other through this journey, finally realizing that we are precisely where we need to be.
He has taught me that greatness can emerge from the comfort of our home in the suburbs. I’ve learned to keep seeking answers and connections to those who can assist us. Our family has been fortunate in finding healthcare professionals and educators who genuinely care for my son and support us all.
Above all, I’ve discovered acceptance over the past year. I may not understand why my son insists on wearing shorts in winter or how he can recall events from early childhood. I don’t know how he can detect dog food from rooms away or memorize every detail about superheroes, Legos, Minecraft, and Skylanders. His list of quirks is extensive and continuously evolving, but I focus less on the “why” and more on the “how” to create a fulfilling life for him and us. I accept him completely as he is and love him without conditions.
Before writing this, I looked up the term “spectrum,” spurred by my desire to understand better. Here’s what I found:
“A spectrum is a condition that is not limited to a specific set of values but can vary infinitely within a continuum. Initially used scientifically in optics to describe the rainbow of colors, the term has been adapted to convey a broad range of behaviors or conditions grouped together for ease of discussion.”
Reflecting on this definition, it resonates with me on a profound level. If a spectrum is indeed a continuum, aren’t we all somewhere along that rainbow? Each of us is unique in our own way, and some will shine brighter depending on how we’re perceived.
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In summary, navigating my son’s autism diagnosis has been a transformative experience. The journey has taught me resilience, empathy, and the importance of acceptance as I embrace my son’s unique qualities and challenges.