Autism Has Made Me More Thankful

As I have in Novembers past, this year, I have chosen to record Thirty Thankful Days. I've been keeping track on my Facebook page, and now that I'm up to day number 4, I was thinking of how thankful I have become since embarking on this autism journey with my child.

Back in the early days, I was never the kind of mom who cried much, or felt despair or defeat. I was always the mom who wanted to know, "What do we do next?" Run to this therapy. Set up the boy's room for the therapists to come over. Twenty two vials of blood for testing? No problem! Cod liver oil? Alrighty then! Vitamins, minerals, Specific Chiropractic, GF/CF and Specific Carbohydrate diets, OT, Speech, videos, flash cards, listening therapy...whatever it could possibly take to help my boy advance. To help him progress. To help him function independently. We pretty much tried it all. And there comes a point when we have to figure out how much harder we can push, and how much better it would be FOR HIM if we just stop pushing. Not completely, but pull back just enough to help the boy breathe without the anxiety of always having to be ON his game.

During the course of the journey, I have made a few friends who share the path. I have been to support groups, seen people cry and fall apart, and I've seen people lock themselves away because they just can't deal with the stares, the judgment, and the difficulty of leaving the house.

You know what else I've seen?

My boy's happy face every morning, and that same sweet smile before I go to bed every night.

That beautiful boy has taught me what's really important and what's not. The petty bullshit that might once have driven me crazy, no longer holds a shred of importance to me. I have learned that ironing those shirts can wait, (forever, in some cases...I HATE ironing!). I have learned that the bickering over meaningless irritations that takes place among families is simply a waste of time. It doesn't matter who sits next to whom at a party, whether we go out for pizza or burgers, and for the love of all ridiculous things, it sure as shit doesn't matter who called whom last!!

A few years back, my boy was not a fan of restaurants. He couldn't tell me why, but I imagine it had something to do with the conflicting types of noise and the constant movement and visual stimulation. It was just too much. When my family was making plans for a dinner out to celebrate a birthday, I would opt out. It made me sad that they weren't hearing me when I tried to explain hohard it was for my child. They thought I was worried about disturbing other restaurant patrons. They thought I was worried about being embarrassed.

It was like they had never even met me.

While I sure don't set out to be a public nuisance by allowing my son to have a Defcon 5 meltdown while another family is trying to eat a meal in peace, my greatest concern was always about not wanting to push my boy past his comfort zone. I was worried about the sensory assault he would endure in a busy venue. I was worried about putting my need to be part of the party ahead of my son's need for avoiding sensory chaos.

Since then, my very hardworking child has powered through the restaurant trials, and has learned to sit (mostly) quietly while we celebrate with family, I have learned that headphones (which he will now tolerate on his head) are my best tool for keeping the boy calm, and my family has learned, I never did give a flying rat's ass about being embarrassed. I am NEVER ashamed of my son. And all this progress, for the boy, for myself and for my family make me thankful, thankful, thankful.

All that gratitude achieved thanks to autism.

Without autism, I might never have known the incredible joy of watching my son drink from a straw for the first time at the age of 4. Joy that brought me to sobbing tears in the middle of an amusement park. Without autism, I would surely have taken such a simplistic task for granted.

Without autism, I might still be taking the personal criticism of others to heart. I might be constantly questioning and doubting myself, wondering if I was ever "getting anything right". But with all we have attempted, achieved, failed and given up, I know with all my heart, I do everything I can for this kid (and for all my kids) out of pure love, and I will fail, I will forgive myself, and I will try again tomorrow. By accepting this for myself, I set the example for my kids. For that, I am thankful.

Now, let's not make the assumption that because autism has given me a long list of reasons to be thankful, I am thankful my child is autistic. I am not. I don't have any need to "cure" him of his neurology, but I do wish I could make this life easier for him. I wish I could help him understand enough to make it possible for him to someday function independently. He's 15 and he doesn't know how to tie his shoes or shower by himself. I'm not thankful for that. But with all his struggles, and with every effort he makes to understand something better, or try a new food, or keep himself calm when his brain is telling him to jump up and down and scream at the top of his lungs, I still get to see that smiling face, every morning and every night before I go to bed. He is a happy, loving, snuggly young man who loves his mom. Thankful. My LORD, I am so very thankful.

There may be some folks who take offense to my feelings about my son's autism. There are those who feel we should all embrace each neurology, exactly as it is. If that is how THOSE FOLKS feel, I completely respect their feelings, but I will NOT apologize for mine. I walk this autism path with MY child. Our path is about HIS autism. We are entitled to feel how we do. My boy has no way to express to me what he might be thinking about his neurology, so he can't tell me how he feels. But I can tell you that some days are really hard. I can tell you the future terrifies me. I can tell you it tears my heart out when I see my son struggling with a simple task like taking off his shoes. But I don't allow myself to be overcome with worry and anxiety and grief. I choose to focus on the joys, which are far greater than the challenges. And I'm thankful.

So today, on this fourth day of thankful consideration, I may not be thankful FOR autism, but I am deeply thankful TO autism, for giving me a clearer perspective on what matters, and for showing me what a great blessing my huggy, kissy, loving boy really is. I am so very thankful.