I remember like it was yesterday- Riding in the car with my husband and my Hannah in the back seat screaming her head off. Each time this happened we would frantically try to figure out what was wrong. Is she hungry? Is her diaper dirty? Is she sick or hurting? At this point Hannah was just 2 months shy of her 2nd birthday. She couldn’t say mom or dad much less communicate what was bothering her. As I sat there in the car, I had a thought. “What if she has autism?” I was aware of autism, but it never occurred to me up until that point that Hannah was autistic. Yes, she was severely developmentally delayed, had no eye contact and many peculiar characteristics but I just kept telling myself “she’ll catch up, all kids are different. It just takes time.” That day I decided to take Hannah in to the pediatrician. I remember talking to the pediatrician and waiting for him to tell me that everything was ok and I was overthinking this whole thing. But that’s not what he said. He said “we’re going get her tested, but we’re also going to get her help right away. We’re going to get through this. It’s not the end for Hannah, it’s the beginning.” He was right. Being diagnosed with autism was not the worst possible scenario; it was the beginning of a whole new world. We entered the world of therapy, ABA, IFSPs, IPPs, IEPs, and specialists. This was “Hannah’s world.” Over the past couple of years we started living a new “normal.” Sometimes “normal” changes and we enter into a new “normal” once again.
“Normal” gets tiring and I just want to lie in my bed underneath my covers. But “normal” is ok. It’s our life and if it means that Hannah will have a better quality of life, then we’re going through with it. Christmas before Hannah’s 3rd birthday she had a bad seizure, and as a result stopped breathing. I almost went hysterical at the thought of losing my baby. Although she recovered, we have never been the same. We love more, laugh more, hug more and live more. Sometimes we have Christmas trees up in October. We paint and play dough a lot. We live for the moment, because you never know how long you have with each other. We have learned to rejoice in the little milestones, the ones that some may overlook or deem insignificant, like trying to take your shoes off for the first time or waving bye and giving high fives. Hannah has younger siblings and they adore her.
Developmentally, they are “typical” kids. I have enjoyed watching them reach their milestones, but I will admit it’s kind of bittersweet. To go through “typical” things like potty training with Hannah’s siblings and know she’s not there yet, she’s still not ready. Her siblings help her with everything from picking out her clothes to putting her shoes on. They dote on her (sometimes a little too much), and it is sweet to see the love and concern they have for her. They are becoming amazing care takers and amazing human beings. They are the sweetest kids BECAUSE of her, not in spite of. I try to imagine life without autism but I can’t. With all the hardship that it brings, there is strength and a love it gives I never knew we had.
To my Hannah: we still have so much to learn, but we are better people because of you!