We can’t talk about accepting Autism without talking about expectations. Society expects that mother’s do everything “right” from the moment they become pregnant. We change our lifestyles overnight. We also set up expectations for what we think our life as a mother will look like.
Loss of control
I can remember agonizing over my baby registry and birth plan for months. But when the day came to deliver my oldest, nothing went as planned. He was born 5 week premature, we were never given any answers as to why. While in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) for 3 weeks he kept “forgetting to breathe”. We were never given any explanation. When he came home he had colic, refused to nurse, hated being held, was constantly screaming in pain. Again we had no answers. When he didn’t start speaking on time and began doing strange things like lining up his toys no one had any answers for us either.
I can remember spending countless hours wondering what I did wrong. I did everything right, I ate right, went to all my appointments, exercised, didn’t smoke or drink, slept enough, went to the birthing classes, did hours of parenting research. But it didn’t matter, my child was struggling and I could not figure out how to help him.
Answers
We had three evaluations completed and all three told us the same thing: my oldest child has Autism. For the first time in 17 months I had answers. While most would have been upset, I was relieved to have an answer. We got him started with therapy immediately and he began to improve.
A few months later my younger son was born. My middle child was full term and had a nearly picture perfect first year of life. His birth went exactly as planned, he was healthy and was socially engaged. He met all of his developmental milestones on or ahead of time.
During that year I poured myself into my oldest and he made huge gains. Going through that process with my oldest helped me understand my role with him in a different light. I let go of my expectations for motherhood and became the mother he needed me to be.
The Twist
I thought that I had things figured out, both boys were doing well until my middle son regressed at 15 months old. Overnight I was back in those dark days of uncertainty. Just a few months later he got his Autism diagnosis too. A year later my youngest was born and by 17 months old was diagnosed with Autism too.
We lived in different states while I was pregnant with each child. My youngest was a high risk pregnancy but my other two were perfect pregnancies. My oldest was premature, my younger two were full term. I ate different foods, worked at different jobs, got different amounts of sleep, yet all three kids still had Autism. It was crystal clear that there was a genetic component at play. We went to a geneticist who assured me there was a genetic component but there was not enough technology to tell me which chromosomes were passed down to my children.
Through some soul searching it became clear that the “symptoms” that got my children diagnosed were the same “quirks” that I had learned to accommodate for in my own life. I never had any evaluations or received any formal diagnoses but the nagging feeling that I never belonged finally made sense. I now identify as neurodivergent and through that identity have found inner peace and self-understanding.