This is the story of life's purpose. My reason for being on this planet. Thanks for the read...
Noah was a beautiful baby. When the nurse handed him to me, he looked at me as if he'd known me for years. His look of familiarity was comforting. A rush of feelings and blood fled through me. Here I was, 23, and a mother. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. And all those people who said it would come naturally were right to an extent. It took a little time for this motherhood thing to "come naturally." August 19, 2010 at 5:24 PM my station in life was now different. I was responsible for this little wrinkled dude named Noah.
Fast forward approximately eighteen months. Life was different now. I'd moved back in with my parents for reasons I won't bore you with. I was separated from my husband for reasons I won't rehash. I had a new job that I was settling into nicely. Noah and I were recovering from all the changes. And I thought we were doing great. And we were. Just not everyone else's conventional "great." But, at this point I had no idea. My baby was growing. And growing quite well, we had just gone to the pediatrician for an eighteen month well visit and he was in the 90th percentile for weight and height. But no words. He had been talking; saying a dozen or so words. Dada, mama, tree, duck, egg to name a few. And feeding himself well with utensils. But, shortly after an ear infection and his dad and myself separating all that stopped. It's like the lights shut off. Completely dark. Refusal to speak, refusal to feed himself, refusal to help dress himself. I had no idea all this was that big of a deal. Enter TEIS. Tennessee Early Intervention System is a voluntary educational program for families with children birth through age two with disabilities or developmental delays.
At his evaluation with them, he barely met qualifications at two years for a "normal" child. I use that word "normal" loosely. I sadly have no other term. So, everyone kept saying, "he'll talk when he's ready." Well ready came and went and still no talking. He's nearly 30 months old at this point. We (Nanny, PawPaw, and Mama) were all greatly discouraged and worried. At a doctor's appointment at 30 months that was an accidental scheduling (I believe that was God intervening) because they don't do well visits at two and a half years old. They asked all the questions: Is he feeding himself? No. Is he dressing himself? No. Is he using two word sentences and speaking at least 100 words. Um. No.
Panic has now set in. What is wrong with my happy, smiley, giggley, affectionate boy? Boys develop slower than girls. Boys talk later than girls. These opinions sound legit. I held onto them for far to long. And there is no measure for the amount of guilt I feel for this. I feel as if I've done an injustice to the person I care most for in the whole world, Noah. A person whose very survival depends on me. It's a huge weight. I know that the outcome would have been no different but it's still there.
At his next evaluation, about two weeks after that accidental doctor's appointment he qualified for services from TEIS. We started Speech Therapy and Occupational Therapy and a teacher came once a week to work with Noah on various developmental things like coloring, stacking, and motor skills. Without these wonderful people Noah wouldn't be feeding himself with utensils, coloring, or using sign language. It's been an intense six months, but God has put the right people in our lives.
August 5th he was officially diagnosed with Autism. During his developmental assessment he showed all the red flags: his love of puzzles, spinning in circles, flapping his arms in excitement, fixating on certain things, difficulty transitioning from one activity to another, etc. And that's where the journey begins. Noah's in preschool now and just finished his first week. I refuse to let this diagnosis be viewed as a "setback." I've had people ask me if I could go back and do things differently and Noah not turn out to be Autistic would I do it? No. Noah is Noah no matter what. And I will love him until I take my last breath. He has taught me far more things and any other human being on this Earth. And I highly doubt anyone else that comes along in my life will ever teach me more than Noah has in these last three years. He's is the reason I'm on this earth. We all search for our purpose in life. That's what people do. Whether it be a job or someone's spouse or partner or whatever it may be, I know God's plan for me is to be Noah's mom. He's the best thing that ever happened to me. He's my Autistic Inspiration.
Noah was a beautiful baby. When the nurse handed him to me, he looked at me as if he'd known me for years. His look of familiarity was comforting. A rush of feelings and blood fled through me. Here I was, 23, and a mother. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. And all those people who said it would come naturally were right to an extent. It took a little time for this motherhood thing to "come naturally." August 19, 2010 at 5:24 PM my station in life was now different. I was responsible for this little wrinkled dude named Noah.
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At his evaluation with them, he barely met qualifications at two years for a "normal" child. I use that word "normal" loosely. I sadly have no other term. So, everyone kept saying, "he'll talk when he's ready." Well ready came and went and still no talking. He's nearly 30 months old at this point. We (Nanny, PawPaw, and Mama) were all greatly discouraged and worried. At a doctor's appointment at 30 months that was an accidental scheduling (I believe that was God intervening) because they don't do well visits at two and a half years old. They asked all the questions: Is he feeding himself? No. Is he dressing himself? No. Is he using two word sentences and speaking at least 100 words. Um. No.
Panic has now set in. What is wrong with my happy, smiley, giggley, affectionate boy? Boys develop slower than girls. Boys talk later than girls. These opinions sound legit. I held onto them for far to long. And there is no measure for the amount of guilt I feel for this. I feel as if I've done an injustice to the person I care most for in the whole world, Noah. A person whose very survival depends on me. It's a huge weight. I know that the outcome would have been no different but it's still there.
At his next evaluation, about two weeks after that accidental doctor's appointment he qualified for services from TEIS. We started Speech Therapy and Occupational Therapy and a teacher came once a week to work with Noah on various developmental things like coloring, stacking, and motor skills. Without these wonderful people Noah wouldn't be feeding himself with utensils, coloring, or using sign language. It's been an intense six months, but God has put the right people in our lives.
August 5th he was officially diagnosed with Autism. During his developmental assessment he showed all the red flags: his love of puzzles, spinning in circles, flapping his arms in excitement, fixating on certain things, difficulty transitioning from one activity to another, etc. And that's where the journey begins. Noah's in preschool now and just finished his first week. I refuse to let this diagnosis be viewed as a "setback." I've had people ask me if I could go back and do things differently and Noah not turn out to be Autistic would I do it? No. Noah is Noah no matter what. And I will love him until I take my last breath. He has taught me far more things and any other human being on this Earth. And I highly doubt anyone else that comes along in my life will ever teach me more than Noah has in these last three years. He's is the reason I'm on this earth. We all search for our purpose in life. That's what people do. Whether it be a job or someone's spouse or partner or whatever it may be, I know God's plan for me is to be Noah's mom. He's the best thing that ever happened to me. He's my Autistic Inspiration.
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