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I vaguely remember the first time someone brought to my attention that they had concerns about my daughter’s development. In most moments I have razor, almost photographic memory abilities; but for these moments, everything just seems to be a bit of a haze.
Maybe it’s because for a long time, I was in denial. But when the word “autism” began to become more prevalent with her pediatrician, speech therapist, behavioral therapist, and occupational therapist, I knew that I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
I remember looking at her, asking her questions and trying to prove to anyone that “no, my daughter’s smart! She’s not autistic!”
That’s when I learned three things.
First, I had to get past my negative connotation of what autism is. For such a long time, people used that word interchangeably with the common term for intellectual disability, mental retardation, when it’s not the same. Though with all of my reading, studying and asking questions to professionals, it was hard to shake that definition for a very long time.
My daughter, who was very social, could count to high numbers, knew her alphabet way before she started school, and could identify colors and shapes seemed too advanced to me to ever want to admit that she had any type of a disability. But the fact of the matter was, and is, is that autism is an issue all on its own.
Second, I learned about the spectrum. Autism isn’t like a light switch, where it can only be in an on or off position. It’s a spectrum, sort of a like a dimmer switch. And an initial diagnosis doesn’t mean that my daughter, or any other child, can’t go on to live happy, successful lives. Some people grow out the spectrum, some stay in it, but all can live completely fulfilled lives.
The final thing that I learned is that, I had to get over myself, and stop asking myself “why did this happen?” For a long time I blamed myself. I sat there and dissected every single moment of my pregnancy and the first year of her life, wondering: “What did I do wrong?” “Was there a genetic problem with me that she inherited?” “Why?”
However, I realized that by pondering what went wrong, I wasn’t being proactive in what could be the best direction for my daughter. When you’re stuck trying to figure out “why” things happen, that’s when you’re ignoring the solution, and only focusing on the past. I knew I was doing a disservice to my daughter by not focusing on her potential for progress.
So, I got over asking why, and started thinking: “What now?” With that, I was able to get her into multiple programs and a regular school, in which she continues to excel, and they also had a special program to help her with her speech.
All these things began to become second nature as I found the right programs to meet her location on the spectrum and to help her grow into the successful adult I’m trying to raise her to be.
So, when one of my sisters shared that her daughter was also diagnosed on the autism spectrum, we’ve been encouraging each other, keeping each other abreast on the programs, the schools, our daughters, and just being a support system to each other.
Through all of this, we’ve both been able to help pull each other out of any mental slump that we might fall into when we begin to wonder: “why?” Because it does happen sometimes.
My note to you, dear readers, is that there are going to be moments in your life that are going to shock you, disappoint you, feel like a setback, or just make you feel down. However, staying in that moment of “why” isn’t doing you a strong service.
True momentum comes when you begin to move forward. Using that moment as ammunition to move toward a solution, instead of dwelling in the problem, is when progress happens.
The fact of the matter is, all setbacks are only as strong as you allow them to be. There’s a spectrum of happiness, and in order to move toward the light, you must get over the dark hump of asking “Why?”
