The Beginning

Let's be honest here. I'm going through some HUGE life changes, and I'm probably more stressed now than I ever have been in my entire life. Being honest, I probably am not dealing with the stress all that well...unless you count "dealing with it" consisting of me being fine until I just up and snap one day and become an emotional train wreck wanting to punch things or cry my eyeballs out or eat a gallon of ice-cream...or possibly all three. At once. Don't judge. I don't consider those behaviors necessarily positive. So I'm on the search for some good outlets to avoid the train crash. I've heard that writing is therapeutic, so I wrote in my journal for the first time in years. I did find it to be helpful for sorting out my thoughts and the like, but, being honest here (there's a lot of honesty in this post), it took me for.ev.er. And I hated it. Because it took centuries. Or at least an hour.

I have been working as a court reporter for the last five plus years, was in court reporting school before that, and, let's face it, I am accustomed to writing things quickly. Maybe too quickly. I-think-it-and-it's-written quickly. 250-300 words per minute type quick writing. You get the picture. This is soooo not the case with journaling. It is s-l-o-w slow. It takes time.

I have officially come to a compromise wherein I've decided to start a blog. Now, I can be the only one reading this blog, and I really don't care. It's a place for me. I also have decided to keep the blog open for others to read, because I've found that it can be helpful to read about people's experiences (especially when you're going through similar situations) and find out what has worked for them and what hasn't. It also helps the world be not such a lonely place, in my opinion. Clear as mud? Fab. I'm also really hoping to keep this blog "real," but I sure don't want it to be a downer. For those who know me, I think I'm generally a pretty positive and/or happy person (or try to be at least), and so I'd like my writing to reflect that. I'm also having some challenges right now, and I want my writing to reflect the real emotions involved.

So with that overly long-winded introduction, what in the universe has gotten me worked up enough to start a blog when I should be working on appeal transcripts for people who don't like sitting in prison? Let's start with this little cutie.

My first born child -- the apple of my eye, Mommy's little girl, Daddy's princess, all of those mushy sayings that come on cute pink baby onesies -- has been diagnosed with autism. Some background here: This wasn't something completely out of the blue. It was something that I had been concerned about - probably for over a year. Addy started showing "classic" signs by age 2 1/2. By age 3 I was definitely concerned. I got her in speech therapy, got her into the early intervention preschool, talked to different professionals about whether I should get her tested but was reassured (maybe?) that testing her "wouldn't do much good," that we should "wait and see," yada, yada, yada. But in my gut I knew, I just knew that something wasn't right. Something wasn't clicking for her. I'd see those commercials for autism awareness, and they would scare me to death. Probably because I knew there was something going on. But it's hard to admit. I'll be the first to admit that it's hard to admit (say that ten times fast). It's hard to think that there might really be something wrong with your baby. (though technically at that time she wasn't really the baby anymore since Brylee had been born, but you get the point. Too much technicality? Yeah, I thought so too.)

Thankfully, when Addy was about five months shy of her 4th birthday, I ran into a friend who has a daughter with autism. She encouraged me to get an independent evaluation. So glad I talked to her. I got an evaluation done, and now I am so thankful. At three years and ten months of age Addy was officially diagnosed with PDD-NOS, an autism spectrum disorder. You can read about PDD-NOS here: http://www.autismspeaks.org/what-autism/pdd-nos (sorry, don't know how to link yet), but to summarize, it basically means that she has significant social and language deficiencies and has all the signs of "classic autism" minus the repetitive movements (i.e. hand flapping, rocking, toe-walking, etc.) We're all on the same page here? Yes(ish)? Good.

Here's the interesting thing to me though: Although I had suspected something (maybe even autism) for over a year, I am still surprised at how hard it was for me to sit there in the psychologist's office and have her tell us about our daughter's diagnosis. Cried like a baby I did. It's a good thing they have lots of tissues in that office, because I'm fairly sure I owe her $0.84 or so for a half a box of Kleenex. The hubs probably thought I was nuts. Or over-emotional. Or pregnant. Unfortunately, I was none of the above. But as difficult as it was for me to sit in there and hear about potential limitations and struggles that my little girl has or may have in the future, I think it was an important step for me being able to accept what the reality of our situation was. The life-changing reality. I realized that I needed to accept this diagnosis so that I could move from being a grieving parent to being a top supporter and advocate for my sweetheart.

In short, this blog is about our family's journey through autism. It's about our struggles and successes. It's about the things we've learned, the therapies and treatment we've tried (and are trying). Most importantly it's about family (our family, specifically), our hopes, our accomplishments, our goals, and our journey to becoming our best selves. I agree whole-heartedly with the quote by Albert Einstein reserved at the top of my blog: "Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid." Thanks for reading.