Before I had my children, even as a former educator, I don't think I was fully aware of the scope of autism in my life. Though there were students with autism in our school, I didn't work with them directly. No one in the family or in my circle of friends had a child with autism. I guess you could say my view was sheltered.
Then, on February 14, 2007, my eyes opened. That was the day I found out I was pregnant with my first child. I was simultaneously elated to be bringing a child into this world and positively terrified that something may happen during my pregnancy or with my child. I am not a worry wort, but something about the delicate little being growing inside of me....I needed him/her to be safe, healthy, and perfect. I didn't want my child to have to suffer or struggle because of any physical, mental, emotional, learning disabilities. From that moment when I first "became" a mom, autism has worked its way into my life view.
Although my own children are not autistic, I can't help but feel like it's a part of our lives. Through our neighbor's son, classmates, teammates. A few months ago, I was given a great gift. While sitting watching my son play, I could clearly tell one of the boys in the group was not "normal." Let me stop here for a second and say that I cannot stand defining children as "normal" and "different" but for lack of a better description, I must here. He sat back quietly watching the group of kids play. When he chose to interact with the group of 5yr old boys, not always the most understanding of crowds, his social skill was awkward at best. He didn't quite know what to say or how to say it. He had a great vocabulary. He put his words together very well. But he barely made eye contact, he fidgeted in place twisting his hands back and forth.
I watched from the outside, praying that my son would be kind to this boy who was so clearly different than the rest of the group. I remember almost holding my breath waiting for that one second when they would find a way to play together. And then the strangest thing happened, they were all running around playing and laughing together. Yes, he hung back a little at times. And occasionally he would react to one of the boys and the way they were playing, but I didn't note it as that different from how my own child would react if he didn't like the way his sister was playing.
I guess I hadn't noticed how closely I had been watching this little boy when his mother, at that point a stranger to me, leaned in and said gently Timothy has autism. My first reaction
was to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for staring at your child. I'm sorry he has autism. Just, I'm sorry...that for a brief fleeting second my heart reiterated that "Thank God my children are healthy" feeling. But, I didn't. She must have seen it in my face
though. She very politely explained that she didn't treat her son's
autism like a disease. That she and her husband don't treat it like a weakness or deficiency. She said her family had
learned with time that her son's autism just changes the way they choose to live their life. She spoke freely about how she transitioned from being a
career woman to a stay at home mom so she could create structure and
routine for Timothy founded in compassion and understanding. She spoke of her daily life from watching her son thrive to preparing for the stares when a meltdown begins in public. She smiled as she watched Timothy play with this group of strangers. She told me how she'd brought him to this same play area every day at the same time for 6 months willing him to at least say hello to another child. I watched the pride in her face as she explained how different her son was from other "normal" kids. Not once did she talk about how difficult raising a child with autism must be. In fact, the only negative words from her were that she wished other people were more tolerant and understanding of Timothy and his needs. She had stories of parents taking their children by the shoulders and moving them away from him as if it's contagious. Of family and friends alike who have stopped going places with them because they can't deal with the stares from strangers if Timothy starts having a fit.
But still, through this clearly emotional and difficult conversation with a perfect stranger, Lisa smiled at her son. She kissed his cheek when he ran over to her. Encouraged him with her words that she quietly whispered into his ear. At that moment, I saw for the first time what loving someone with autism means. Her life as a mom was very different and yet strikingly similar to my own. She loves her child unconditionally and is guiding him to achieve the best that he can. She recognizes how difficult his being different is, not because he's different but because the world is trying to figure out how to accept different.
Lisa and I have kept in touch. Timothy and Matthew play once a month. They both love Ninja Turtles and Transformers. We've had playdates where you wouldn't even know he's autistic and we've had playdates where the meltdowns were so severe Lisa has carried her 60lb son to the car screaming. Never once has she thrown an apologetic look in my direction or me in hers. And as we wave to Timothy and tell him we will see him soon, I know these interactions are just as valuable to my son as they are hers. Unfortunately, Lisa's husband has taken a job on the West Coast and we will have to say goodbye to our friends but I'm thankful for the opportunity to know Timothy and his family. For the lessons he has taught Matthew and me. For the love, kindness and understanding being friends with this autistic child has welcomed into our lives. We will miss him dearly!
April is Autism Awareness Month. While making donations to research the cause, cure, etc are a phenomenal way to support those families raising these unique little children, what many of them would appreciate even more is your constant understanding and compassion for their children. Before you judge that mom in the supermarket whose child is screaming or
those parents who aren't "disciplining" their child who is not behaving
appropriately in TGI Friday's, stop and be tolerant. Understand every
situation and every person is different. Raise an awareness that each puzzle piece is different and that's what colors our world so beautiful.
