It's funny how words that before where never part of your vocabulary become everyday words.
Seven years ago I was anticipating the arrival of our son Jacob. Our first baby! A boy! As a first time mom, I wanted everything to be perfect. His little room was painted baby blue. His cute teeny clothes hung in his closet waiting for his arrival. I couldn't wait to be a mom. Seven years ago my vision was of a perfect baby boy and a perfect family.
Seven years ago I hadn't even heard of Aspergers.
Well, maybe I had. Maybe somewhere I had read it, but I'm sure if I had I skimmed over the article, and was probably unsure how to even pronounce it correctly. I knew a little about Autism just from the parenting magazines I read while waiting to see my obstetrician each week. I knew that more and more kids were being diagnosed with it, but I didn't fully understand it.
And then Jacob was born. He was perfect. As perfect as every child. It was amazing to me the amount of love you could have for something so foreign and new. I admit I had never changed a diaper before my son. I loved kids, but was terrified of babies. My husband taught me everything I needed to know. I am and was a nervous mother. By nature I am a thinker, worrier, over-analyzer. Thankfully my husband's spontaneous nature evens us out some. And so here I was spending my days as a stay at home mom for the first time with this sweet little bundle of joy that I was so worried I would somehow mess up.
But I had a secret. Things weren't perfect. I knew something wasn't right. As a baby Jacob cried a lot. Being a first time mom I looked at myself. What was I doing wrong? As Jacob grew it became more and more obvious to me that something was amiss. Oh, he met all his milestones early. He was a big talker and incredibly bright. But something wasn't right, and I knew it despite everyone telling me my son was fine.
At the age of two while Jacob was singing the alphabet backwards and counting well past 20, I was busy googling like crazy trying to piece together the things that were off about my son. Everything pointed to Autism. Yet some things didn't quite fit. He was very verbal. There was no regression that you read about with Autism. In so many ways he was flourishing. But I continued my late night google searches taking every quiz out there on Autism.
And then one day I happened to stop at a garage sale. I almost didn't stop. They didn't have much stuff, but I saw a stack of books and I couldn't pass that up. There in the stack was a book called "The Sensitive Child" for all of a quarter. Hmm...maybe that fit Jacob. He sure was sensitive. As I went to pay, I asked the woman having the sale if the book had been helpful. She said yes, but I also needed another book. In my hands she placed a book on PDD-NOS and Aspergers. She went on to tell me how that book had made all the difference and she wanted me to have it at no cost. I left with my two books for a quarter, tossing them in the seat behind me.
That night as my husband slept, I opened the book on Aspergers. Little did I know that it would change so much. Little did I know that this word, Aspergers, would become such a big part of my life. This was my son. This was everything Jacob was. It all fit. Finally.
Yet I didn't go out and shout it to the world. Jacob was four and actually thriving at the time in his new preschool, so getting a diagnosis didn't seem urgent. Even though I knew deep down that it all fit, I was still in a lot of denial. Plus my husband wasn't quite at the same place as I was. He was in a much deeper denial at the time and was looking inward thinking all Jacob's problems stemmed from our parenting, not realizing it was something beyond our control.
But that word stuck in the back of my head and wouldn't leave.
Aspergers.
Aspergers.
I left it there for a while. Now I had a new secret word to google. Everything I read continued to confirm my suspicions, but there was little information on how to actually help your child. It also said that getting a diagnosis at a young age was difficult and most children were diagnosed closer to seven or eight.
Slowly over the next few years the word Aspergers became less threatening. It didn't seem so scary anymore. No longer did my heart start to race or my stomach turn just at the sight of the word. Finally when Jacob was six and at the beginning of first grade, my husband and I were both on the same page and ready to move forward with the diagnosis.
Sure enough, it was Aspergers. I've never felt so relieved in my life. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Now we could move forward. And move forward we did. With any diagnosis you have a choice, keep it to yourself or tell people. After much thought, together we decided on the later. There was no shame in Aspergers. And more than anything I wanted to spread awareness and understanding. If I could possibly help just one mother who was up late at night googling Aspergers hoping to find help for her child, it would be worth it. I couldn't do that if I kept Jacob's diagnosis a secret. In time it is a something we will share with Jacob as well, when he is a little older and able to understand more.
Seven years ago I had no idea how one word could change our life. Seven years ago I had no idea how one child could bring so much joy. Seven years ago I naively thought life could be perfect. Now I know that life can be wonderful without being perfect.
Aspergers.
It's ok to say it. It's no longer a secret.
Yes. Thank you.
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