My Prayer for My Wisdom

This morning I sat in my soon-to-be three-year-old’s first transition meeting, the meeting between the parents, early intervention services, and the school system in which plans for the child’s early intervention and education beginning on his third birthday are devised. I want to spend my life as a force for my children. I understand that sometimes, the force must be quiet to be effective. Being quiet is not one of my strong points. I went deep within myself before the meeting, to remind myself that I am wise, I am strong, I can create whatever Andrew needs.

At the small table were me, our angel from Heaven, Mary, who has been with us since before diagnosis as our speech therapist, the special education director and a teacher.

“How old was Andrew when he was diagnosed?”

“Twenty-one months,” I say out loud. They scribble.

I think, He was not always autistic. He was born perfect. He hit every milestone. He was bright. He was fine until he was fifteen months old, and he got that fever after his doctor’s visit that was a “coincidence.” But I don’t say it out loud, because I am, by nature, combative, and saying it out loud would have been daring them to tell me different. And it doesn’t matter what they think, because I know what happened. Mary knows what happened. It happened to her son, too, ten years ago.

“What does he eat?” “He’s gluten and dairy free.” More scribbling, interested noises and shifting of legs. 

Oh! I think, Maybe they know! Maybe they know about diet and biomed and homeopathy and how awesome it is and that Andrew’s autism isn’t really autism and we can discuss how awesome he is and how far he’s come!! I get so excited in my brain, thinking I will convert these people to crunchy moms. I don’t even know if they have children.

Mary tells them about our SonRise program and how far Andrew’s come in such a short time. They are interested and eager and very accepting.

I think, You may think I am nuts running a program from my house. Let me tell you about his ATEC. Boy had a 106 ATEC at this time last year. Today it’s 35.

They give me the two standard options for Andrew’s continuing educating. The day after his third birthday, I am to put him on the short bus and send him five days a week for seven-hour school days, year round.

I don’t think so, I think. I am through thinking the “experts” know better about what he needs than I do. I left my children in the hands of the professionals, and look what I got! My healthy, perfect boy was changed into a very unhealthy, sick little boy with brain damage, that sent us into a yearlong grief tailspin. Screeeeewww that. I know best. 

We discuss alternative options that let us continue his SonRise program with minimal disruption. I am a Thinker. I spread the Truth. But, sometimes, wisdom comes in staying centered. If I had said what I wanted to say, I don’t know that they would have been so gracious in working with me for what he needs, for what I think is best. They could have labeled me as combative, aggressive. What good would that have served, really?

I live the Truth. Which means, if they spend any time at all in the next couple of years with me and my sweet boy, they will learn what I have learned, they will know what I know. But they will see it more easily through a gracious, kind aura, than through my old, grieving and bitter one.

This is my Truth, and the most important thing I have learned from our autism. Wisdom is sometimes being quiet.

With love from,

~ The Phoenix

Phoenix is now a full time mom to Ava, 8, and twins, Andrew and Ben, 2. Andrew was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder at 21 months, and Phoenix went after the truth immediately. Approaching his 3rd birthday, Andrew is well on the road to Recovery. It’s really hard for Phoenix to pretend much else matters besides our Canaries in the coal mine. Phoenix’s story of autism and healing can be found here: http://autismandtwins.blogspot.com