If you’re not from Boston, you wont understand that title. You hop on the red line to head down to the South Shore. You always make sure you are on the Braintree train, otherwise you end up on an Ashmont train. You don’t want that, unless you’re packing heat.
Emily was diagnosed with Aspergers yesterday. Yeah, so this is my new train. New stops, new detours, new neighborhoods I’ve never had to set foot in. I remember sitting in that appointment listening to her results. I’m thinking “oh yeah, aspergers, yup I’m familiar with it. Sure, makes sense” When in actuality, I don’t know what it REALLY is. I know everyone one seems to have it. I know based on all those evaluations I did, shit, I probably have it.
What surprised me was this was similar to a grieving process. Denial, anger…I sat and cried for this little girl. This little girl who was wired differently then what people consider “neurotypical”. All those questions that go through your head. Will she drive? Go to college? Have a healthy relationship? Why her? I was bulldozed by the series of emotions, I didn’t see them coming. I wasn’t prepared for the amount of sobbing I did.
Then I go through my own shortcomings. Are you ready to be super mom? I am not supermom. What’s super is if I manage to have all 3 kids do their homework, run to appointments and activities, eat dinner and brush their teeth before bed. All while hoping they don’t kill each other. Now that’s a good day in my house. I’m just not a super mom. I’m unorganized, I’m constantly trying to get my shit together and be a “typical” family, or at least look like one. Now more than ever, this little girl is depending on me. To be super, to be her amazing advocate, to know what to do, and if I don’t, know where to find the answer. That’s scary as hell. Cause right now? I know jack. I’m just a mom going through the motions of parenting. I’m honest to God “winging it”.
Thankfully, we have an amazing support system of family and friends. Everyone was encouraging and supportive and all saw this was a positive thing. She’ll get all the services she needs, so many opportunities for social groups and support groups. That’s terrific, it really is. But that doesn’t change the fact that I have an autistic daughter. I’m angry. Was it something I did? A Vaccine? Should I have breastfed her longer? Anyone know? Hello? Bueller?
The one thing I know is that she is perfect.100% perfect. I love to see her light up when she’s excited about something. She hops around the house, nonstop. Cause shes happy. I wouldn’t change that for the world. We’re going to do this together. One hop at a time.