It has been a while since I have posted anything new. I have been on a wild ride that began about 2 months ago. I have been doing the best I can in these past two months to just survive day by day. There have been very few great days in my life in the past two months. What there has been is lots of tears, worry, anxiety, and a lot of doubting of my own capability.
At the beginning of April, I took our youngest, Allie, to her pediatrician for her 18 month well check. At home, prior to the appointment, I had noticed a pretty substantial regression in her vocalization and play skills in the past three months. As I filled out the M-CHAT while waiting to see the doctor, I knew that my yes's and No's on that sheet indicated characteristics of autism. But in my mind, she had words, so she couldn't possibly have autism. When the doctor came in and saw my answers on that sheet, she said the big A word and I felt like I was shot through the heart.
When we were driving home, I sobbed hysterically. I could not even finish a phone conversation with my husband. I had to pull over three times during that 30 minute commute to lay my head on the steering wheel of my car and cry. As I cried, I would look back at this sweet, innocent little girl sitting in her car seat sleeping. As much pain as I was feeling, I felt more for her.
Shortly after this appointment, we had a developmental evaluation done. It showed she had significant delays and they also agreed she showed signs of autism. Then a speech evaluation followed. Same results. With each evaluation, I felt more heartbroken.
I spent about 3 weeks just numb. I wouldn't allow myself to feel anything. I couldn't cry, laugh, be happy or sad. I went through the motions of every aspect of my daily life. I just did not have anything else to give. I did what I had to to get through each day.
I feel like I am reliving my worst period of my whole adult life. That occurred in the summer of 2008 when Curly was in the process of being diagnosed. Every step of Allie's intervention and therapies is a reminder of what that time three years ago was like.
This summer, Allie will most likely be diagnosed on the spectrum. As the days get closer to that event, I do not know how I will handle it. I think in my mind, I know I have the tools to get through it but in my heart, I don't think you ever really get over diagnosis. I still know the date, the clothes I wore, the moment I read the paperwork saying Abigail had autism, every single detail surrounding that day of diagnosis.
I am scared of my feelings or taking the time to actually feel. I am scared about the futures of my little girls. I am trying my best but do not know sometimes how I have made it through each day. As a doctor told me, "You are not running a sprint, you are running a marathon". So the marathon begins times two. Even if I don't think I am ready for the challenges of having two children on the spectrum, I HAVE to be.
Once the summer is over, I will take a little time to feel, to try to heal. Then I move on. I do what I have done for the past three years with Abigail. I take one day at a time, one moment at a time. I deal with one challenge at a time. I advocate for their rights. I ask for support when I need it. I ask for help. I help find them find their strengths and not focus on their weaknesses. I give them a childhood that doesn't completely focus on their disabilities. And I find time for me.
Easier said than done but I am a work in progress.
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