Ten years on Autism Road will take a lot out of you if you let it. It will completely suck you up, rip you to threads, and spit you back out. You have to fight your way through the darkness that comes with your child receiving a diagnosis like autism. You have to fight to get out of bed on the mornings when your child hasn’t slept and that means you haven’t either. You have to fight to cook a meal that is diet-friendly and safe for your child to eat, only for them to refuse to eat it due to their oral-motor sensitivities. You have to fight to hold onto your marriage, your friendships, your relationships in general. You have to fight to have energy to take a shower and get ready for work, to face your day on no sleep. You have to fight to drive to your child’s therapy session, again. You have to fight the credit card companies, the utility companies who keep calling because you are late paying your bills because your child needed those supplements more than you need cable that month. You have to fight to do a load of laundry because nobody in the house has clean underwear left. You have to fight to get to the grocery store because you have no organic eggs in the fridge. You have to fight to get through an IEP meeting to make sure your child is getting all the supports he or she needs in the educational setting. You have to fight the yeast overload in your child’s gut. You have to fight to not get sick because Mama doesn’t have time to be sick. You have to fight to not drop to your knees and cry the ugly cry because, honestly, that’s all you want to do.
You have to fight. You have to fight. You have to fight.
I have fought. I have lived 10 years on Autism Road, and I have survived. I have SURVIVED. More importantly, my son has THRIVED. We are taking back our lives. We are loving each other. We are strong. We are accepting one another. We are celebrating our growth and progress. We are making positive intentions for the years to come. We will continue to embrace and love one another. We will support our son on HIS journey.
Fight through it mamas. LOVE on your babies. LOVE yourselves. LOVE your family and friends and let all of them LOVE you.
To my beautiful son Kale Zachary,
January 10th is your 10-year anniversary of being diagnosed with autism. On that day, I knew it was coming. I was not surprised, but yet, it changed everything. I have spent the last decade fighting for your health. I have spent the last decade healing you. I have read so many books and articles and talked with so many mamas on Facebook to try to help you. I have dedicated my life to autism in the hopes of validating your struggles.
We have been through so much. SO many therapy sessions, supplements, tests, doctor appointments, homeopathic remedies, energy work, horseback riding. The list is endless. SO much of our time, energy and money spent on recovery. SO many tears shed over failed protocols that brought you minimal progress in your health. SO many tears shed on birthdays or holidays that didn’t go the way I dreamed they would be for you. My heart ached for you.
Until fall of 2014, when you showed me what this journey was really about. It was not about me and what I thought you needed. You led me to understand that love and acceptance was all you needed. You didn’t need all those supplements or therapies or remedies. You needed me to support YOU in your fight, in your journey. You needed me to love and accept you as you went through this journey. SO, that is what I did. I focused on YOU and limited the supplements, remedies, etc.
What you have given to your dad and I in the last year and a half has been so absolutely amazing. There are no words to describe how proud of you we are. We love you unconditionally, whole-heartedly, and we accept you. You showed us what it’s like to overcome the most difficult of mountains when you beat apraxia’s ass and started to finally spontaneously communicate with us this past summer. My heart flutters every time you get a new word out. My love for you grows every time you smile at me. I see your happiness. I see your genuine love of life now. I see you.
As we begin our next decade together, I promise to continue to love and support you on your journey to ultimate health and happiness.
I promise to not be sad on this day that marks 10 years of autism for us. Instead, I promise to celebrate how far you have come and all that lies ahead for you. Keep fighting baby. We are right here with you.
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