I'm working on the beautiful that this journey with ASD has to offer, because I know somewhere, there is beautiful. I know we will find gifts and pure joys amidst the trials and grief. I know we will celebrate every win with a zest we would not have known otherwise. And I know I will learn to let go of my preconceived notions of "normal" and let my baby thrive. But man, oh man, is it hard.
I'm hesitant to start this blog, to share the ugly, and the beauty I see every day. I'm tempted to hide, to work diligently for and with my son to achieve greatness, but never really say it out loud. There are bigger disabilities, illness, tragedies in this life. My son is healthy and whole, thank God. As I walk this road I see more and more the need for voices for autism. For champions. For mamas and daddy's who will give anything to have the world be accessible to their child, every child. I don't know how to sit quietly by and hope for better services and acceptance but I don't know where to start either. So I suppose this blog is where I will try to find my voice.
But this is more than just ASD, it's acceptance of our differences, visible or not. It's not awareness or tolerance, I'm not sure I'm even happy with acceptance. I keep thinking embrace, but that seems an odd phrasing. I'm not well educated in the technicalities of autism but you can read for yourself the staggering statistics, and increases in recent years, of autism. My personal opinion is that it's somewhat to do with more and more early detection of even mild ASD, but who knows. We need educated. Oh the stereotypes I thought of in conjunction to ASD and said "that's not my son!". There is one spectrum but no one autism, folks.
In the past months I have sought refuge in several blogs and found women who share the thoughts of my heart and mind but can voice it ever so eloquently. I lack that ability, but I'm going to try. My head is swimming with these thoughts but I'm not sure how to write them down. However, the best way to begin is simply to begin. So here it is.
Writing has always been therapeutic for me and I hope that just maybe my musings will help someone the way these ladies, Who have no idea who I am, have helped me. Helped me understand, come to terms, and even embrace this new life we have. Autism has not changed my son, but it sure has changed me, but only for the better. I'm tired of the grief, although I know I will still feel that in some ways for a long time. I'm ready to fight, to help educate, to facilitate acceptance.
I'm so blessed to have friends and family who have rallied around us in trying times but I'm ready to speak up and DO something. Even if that's just chronicling my thoughts and our victories. And hopefully, while writing this blog, it will remind me to always choose beautiful, because it's there even when I'm blind to it. Welcome.
I'm hesitant to start this blog, to share the ugly, and the beauty I see every day. I'm tempted to hide, to work diligently for and with my son to achieve greatness, but never really say it out loud. There are bigger disabilities, illness, tragedies in this life. My son is healthy and whole, thank God. As I walk this road I see more and more the need for voices for autism. For champions. For mamas and daddy's who will give anything to have the world be accessible to their child, every child. I don't know how to sit quietly by and hope for better services and acceptance but I don't know where to start either. So I suppose this blog is where I will try to find my voice.
But this is more than just ASD, it's acceptance of our differences, visible or not. It's not awareness or tolerance, I'm not sure I'm even happy with acceptance. I keep thinking embrace, but that seems an odd phrasing. I'm not well educated in the technicalities of autism but you can read for yourself the staggering statistics, and increases in recent years, of autism. My personal opinion is that it's somewhat to do with more and more early detection of even mild ASD, but who knows. We need educated. Oh the stereotypes I thought of in conjunction to ASD and said "that's not my son!". There is one spectrum but no one autism, folks.
In the past months I have sought refuge in several blogs and found women who share the thoughts of my heart and mind but can voice it ever so eloquently. I lack that ability, but I'm going to try. My head is swimming with these thoughts but I'm not sure how to write them down. However, the best way to begin is simply to begin. So here it is.
Writing has always been therapeutic for me and I hope that just maybe my musings will help someone the way these ladies, Who have no idea who I am, have helped me. Helped me understand, come to terms, and even embrace this new life we have. Autism has not changed my son, but it sure has changed me, but only for the better. I'm tired of the grief, although I know I will still feel that in some ways for a long time. I'm ready to fight, to help educate, to facilitate acceptance.
I'm so blessed to have friends and family who have rallied around us in trying times but I'm ready to speak up and DO something. Even if that's just chronicling my thoughts and our victories. And hopefully, while writing this blog, it will remind me to always choose beautiful, because it's there even when I'm blind to it. Welcome.
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