Clout

She’s got clout. Clout. It’s a word that said too often in your head, starts to sound weird. What does it mean to you? I hear it as; passion, experience, connections, skills, direction, respect.

Before autism exploded into our lives we had serious careers, advanced degrees we were actually using. Some were very successful; some made dreams come true, conquered fears, survived hardships and traumas and came out the other side victorious. We built a personal library of resilience and skill.

When our children were diagnosed with autism, for many of us it just didn’t sit right. The diagnosis felt artificial next to the physical regression we witnessed. We felt skeptical, like we didn’t have the whole story. Something was ‘off.’ So we got down to work: researching, healing, teaching, loving, worrying, and sharing information with other parents. We literally ‘kill ourselves’ to recover our children. Not physical death, (although some days . . . ) but an emotional stuffing of our old selves away, burying that vitality, network and optimism about the world far, far back in our minds.

The new learning curve is huge. We become competent at discussing methylation and the Krebs cycle, hard chamber vs. soft chamber hyperbaric, why it’s possible to work long distance with a homeopath, whether certain probiotics contain a strep strain, the pros and cons of various forms of chelation, how to find an advocate that will set the right tone at the IEP meeting, when to pull the plug at school and call a lawyer or homeschool, and on and on. We become sharp as a knife with these new skills, functioning as doctor, lawyer, teacher, speech and behavioral therapist, homeopath and mom. We can also feel dull as dishwater.

“Where did I go?” I hear moms say. “I used to be so _____________ (fill in the blank). For me it was ‘into clothes’ among many other things. We are so hell bent on recovering our children that we measure our mood and the success of our day by how our autistic child is doing. I do, anyway. Makes sense, it’s reasonable. I’m not saying you should do anything differently. But . . . just in case you are quietly taking inventory on how YOU are doing, I’ve noticed that you all are pretty terrific.

What do I see when I look out at the army of mothers I come across on Facebook, at Autism One in Chicago, at book talks for TMR or Nurture Parenting events? I see: loving, witty, gorgeous, soulful, funny, sexy, dynamic, hopeful autism mothers. Don’t let yourself forget that you climbed mountains, surpassed supervisors or department head expectations or gathered medals for firsts in your life before autism.

Three things I’m sure you don’t know about me.

1. I can race war canoes.

2. I wrote a master’s thesis on daughters of Vietnam Combat Veterans.

3. I spent a month hiking the Wind River Range in Wyoming, one week of that without food.

Who are you outside of autism mom? What would we be surprised to know about you? What strengths and skills do you bring to this war, hard won from previous battles? We are a tremendously strong community woven together by our tenacious efforts to heal our children. We are also vibrant because of the variety of skills we carry forward from our lives before autism. Let the world know all the parts that make up the mom you are today, not just the ones necessary for autism. Put the world on notice, you aren’t taking this shit lying down.

Peace out suckerz,

~ Mama Mac