How I Addressed the Autism Challenge in Our Home

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When my son, Ethan, who is on the autism spectrum, was just four years old, he once consumed a large portion of a foam puzzle while I was taking a shower. When I emerged, he seemed perfectly fine, looking up at me with his bright blue eyes, blinking innocently. However, I was understandably alarmed.

“Why did you do that?” I asked, my voice trembling with concern.

He appeared unfazed, tilting his head slightly.

“Are you a goat or something?” I expressed my frustration, but he simply gazed at me in silence.

In all likelihood, he was thinking: “Her face looks nicer from a distance.” Yet, he remained mute, a reminder of his communication challenges due to autism.

I shook my head firmly at him. “NO!” I proclaimed, pointing to the remnants of the foam puzzle. “NO EAT!”

In response, he mimicked my shaking head repeatedly.

He continued to shake his head as I bundled him and his brother into their winter coats and rushed to the Children’s Emergency Room. The doctors concluded that the foam would not pose significant harm, but they admitted him for observation, perhaps feeling sympathetic toward my situation. I was a pregnant mother managing two toddlers, one of whom had a tendency to eat non-food items. I didn’t mention my six-year-old daughter waiting to be picked up from school, knowing that sometimes, people just can’t handle too much at once.

While Ethan was in the hospital, I requested a psychiatric consultation. I may have thrown a small tantrum, but ultimately, I opted to communicate calmly. To my surprise, the resident agreed to consult a child psychiatrist.

Since Ethan’s diagnosis at age two, we had engaged with various therapists—school specialists, community mental health professionals, psychologists, and speech therapists. I felt overwhelmed and fearful that I wasn’t doing enough for him. At times, I found myself curled up in the corner of the kitchen, paralyzed by the task of “fixing” his behaviors. Other days, I developed intricate therapy systems to address his repetitive motions and vocalizations that seemed to hinder his daily life. However, we had never consulted a child psychiatrist, and as I worried about the possibility of another puzzling episode, I had countless questions.

The psychiatrist was direct yet compassionate. He provided insights that left both Ethan’s father and me with a mixture of clarity and apprehension. For the first time, someone addressed our son’s condition candidly, at a time when autism was just beginning to gain widespread attention.

“Your son has classic autism,” the psychiatrist stated. “There’s no cure. Anyone claiming they have ‘cured’ their child of autism likely did not have a child with autism. It’s as simple as that.”

Instead of feeling disheartened, I experienced a sense of relief. It dawned on me that I could stop battling an invisible foe. I had been exhausted from fighting something I could not see.

I realized that it would be a struggle that could ultimately lead to defeat if I did not find a healthier perspective. Moreover, there was something troubling me for months that I hesitated to voice but now acknowledge: Ethan didn’t seem to mind being autistic. In fact, he appeared genuinely happy with who he was.

From that moment on, I shifted my focus from trying to “cure” Ethan to embracing his individuality. This didn’t mean I stopped seeking occupational or speech therapy for him. It didn’t mean I ceased advocating for his needs or setting boundaries when he jumped around during family movie nights. I still valued therapy and support; I simply adjusted my expectations to align with his capabilities. My goal became helping Ethan be the best version of himself.

Ultimately, I stopped attempting to eradicate autism from our lives and allowed my son to coexist with it, as it was part of his identity—just as much as his striking blue eyes and fondness for foam.

This approach has proven more beneficial for me, and while I recognize it may not resonate with every parent, I view it as a path forward, not a surrender. There are already enough divisions within the autism community, and my acceptance of Ethan’s diagnosis is not up for debate. We are all parents of unique children, navigating our own challenges.

Instead of allowing ourselves to be sidetracked by divisive issues such as diets or vaccinations, let’s unite in our collective experiences. We can focus our energy on something we can all agree on: the frustration with misinformation surrounding autism.

If you’d like to explore more about the intricacies of parenting and home insemination, check out our other posts, including useful resources like this one on fertility insurance and insights from BabyMaker.

In summary, my journey with Ethan taught me the importance of acceptance over resistance. Embracing who he is rather than struggling against the challenges of autism has brought peace into our lives.