One Year with ASD

This last Friday marked one year from Nathan's autism diagnosis.  What a year it's been.  One thing that scared me when Nathan was diagnosed was not knowing what Nathan's life would be like.  Will he learn to talk? Will he be able to attend regular school?  Will he be able to create friendships?  Looking back now one year later, I couldn't have imagined the progress Nathan has made.  He can say words sponanteously.  He'll follow simple directions.  He's coming out of his shell and interacting more.  He's starting to put together sentences.  That blows me away.  They say that early intervention leads to the best results and from what I've seen with Nathan I'm a believer.  I have high hopes for this kid.

We're all different people after Nathan's diagnosis.  Nathan has obvious changes from all the therapy he's been doing.  But Brad and I are different parents because of Nathan and his autism.  With my background in child development I went into parenthood mindful of the kind of parent I wanted to be.  But that has had to change.  I didn't want Nathan to have an over scheduled childhood and now he does 15 hours a week of therapy.  I didn't want to be a helicopter parent, but the more I engage in his world the more he come into ours.

In some ways it still hurts.  It hurts when I see kids younger than Nathan that can speak better than him.  I marvel sometimes to see parents have perfectly normal conversations with their kids and I yearn so much for a conversation like that with Nathan.  I would love for him to be able to tell me he's hungry or tired or frustrated.  I would love for him to tell me what he's interested in.  He struggles so much to be able to communicate with us and I wish it wasn't so hard for him.

We are stronger for this last year.  We've learned to push for what's best for Nathan.  I've had to fight our case worker to get Nathan's hours increased and to keep therapists.  I've educated myself on autism through books, websites, and workshops.  I've had to speak up and to have an opinion.  I've learned how to be the best advocate for Nathan I can be so that he can have what's best for him.  We've had our patience pushed farther and learned to listen more closely.

Every night this year when we've put Nathan to bed we've sang to him, "I Am a Child of God." The second verse in particular touches close to my heart.

I am a child of God,

And so my needs are great;

Help me to understand his words

Before it grows to late.
Lead me, guide me, walk beside me,
Help me find the way.
Teach me all that I must do
To live with him someday.

While Nathan does have a lot of needs, I feel so blessed to have him in our lives.  We've known from the beginning that Nathan was a special little boy and that Heavenly Father wanted him in our family.  I feel such a responsibility to help him understand and learn.  That responsibility motivates me every day to keep going.

I was recently reading "Man's Search for Meaning" by Viktor Frankl.  Frankl quoted a patient of his who had a son with severe disabilities.  She answered his question as to what the purpose of her life was by saying, "And so I have made a fuller life possible for him; I have made a better human being out of my son."  I may not know what Nathan's life will be like, if he'll be able to go to regular school or if he'll make friendships.  But if I have the goal that I can make a fuller life possible for him, to make him a better human being, than that is a worthwhile purpose for my life.

I have had one of my questions answered about Nathan's life.  When Nathan was first diagnosed with autism, I wondered if I would ever hear Nathan say, "I love you."  I've wanted to hear him say that more than anything else.  A few weeks ago we were once again putting Nathan to bed.  And for the first time Nathan told us, "I love you," on his own.  Brad, Nathan, Evelyn, and I were hugging at bedtime and Nathan just said it. And it made my heart want to burst.  This year has been hard.  Really hard.  But to hear, "I love you," from Nathan makes it all worth it.