Tuesday, January 5, 2016

The Asperger's Road/My Advice for You


When I started writing this blog, I had hopes that I could help other parents in the early stages of an Asperger’s diagnosis with regards to their children feel a little less overwhelmed and lost; maybe I could guide them down the Asperger's road a little bit. I realize that I haven’t done as much of the explaining and paving of the road as I would have liked.  Here’s why: There is no road.

  When Presley’s first-grade teacher and counselor first approached me with the thought that my perfect, funny, brilliant daughter might have a “disorder”, I was floored. I wanted to read all I could read and figure it out, but, the more I read the more confused I was. The children in the books who were exhibiting “characteristic Aspergerger’s traits” of outbursts and violent meltdowns were nothing like my mild-mannered angel. I was horrified. I put the books down.

  When we finally accepted that this was really happening, we started the LOOOONG journey of trying to get the proper documentation and diagnosis. That is probably the one thing I have been able to document well during the course of our journey and you can find that journey in my blogs, "The Sparks Experience I and II" and "Catching Up".  The diagnosis, although it took nearly three years, a hunk of change out of our pockets and quite a few tears from pretty much all of us, turned out to be the easy part.  You pretty much have a limited choice of doctors in your area (and by "your area" I mean within a couple hundred miles") who offer the needed tests and your pediatrician and/or school can make the referral(s).

  After that, the “What now?” hits. What therapy does she need? Which doctors do we need to be seeing? What about her schooling? Do we stay in the small, private school we love with no IEPs or Special Education or move her to public school where the above is offered but her world is upturned by the loss of the familiar friends who have surrounded her since kindergarten? Homeschool? (Ummm….no. Please, God. Just no. Not for us.) I wanted to find every doctor, therapist, group, or counselor who could help her and FIX it NOW. What I found was that even if you do find the very best counselor for what you are dealing with at the time, tomorrow may present a whole new set of circumstances for you to deal with and then you start all over. But isn’t that life for all of us, diagnosed or not? The best advice I can give you if you are a parent stressing over if you are making the right decisions or not is what my friend and co-worker Connie told me was passed on to her and I agree, “We make the best decision we can at the time with the information we have on hand.” And also, “It’s ok to not have all the answers.” This last bit of wisdom is my own…Because, honestly, even if you DO find the right answer, tomorrow there is going to be a whole new question.  Ex: our precious OT in Huntsville, Sharon, helped TREMENDOUSLY with handwriting issues and shoe tying/self-care; but now we are looking for a Math tutor who understands how Presley’s brain works and where the answer is “getting stuck”, because we know she knows 9 x 9 = 81…so why the tears?

 I can tell you what has and has not worked for us, which doctors we loved and which centers we won’t waste our time with again, but in the end, your child and your journey is going to be different than mine. What I'd like to tell you is:
1.  Surround yourself with positive, Godly people who will pray for you.
2.  You, yourself, pray like CRAZY (with your spouse, if applicable).
3.  Just keeping facing each challenge as it arises, without letting them cause you to worry so much that you miss all the fun, laughter, and joy that comes with a child designed just the way God meant for them to be.

Monday, January 4, 2016

Third Time’s the Charm (When it Comes to Dealing with Grief During the Holidays)


Everyone expects the “firsts” after we lose someone we love to be difficult: the first birthday without them, the first anniversary they aren’t here to celebrate, and certainly the first Holiday season. What got me was that the second Christmas without my dad was nearly as tough as the first. The hole was still there. I still felt like when I looked to the end of our pew during our church’s traditional Christmas Eve Candelight Service, he should be standing there singing. It still caught me a little off guard when he wasn’t. Grief stole from me yet another joyous holiday season.

  But this year was better. Do I still miss him? Of course. So many times, I think how much he’d have enjoyed something my daughters did or said. It still breaks my heart that mom celebrated alone during the times that we couldn’t be there with her, when we were with my husband’s family. My parents would have celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary just one week before Christmas. I had planned that party in my head for years, imagining something like the picture I’d seen so many times of my grandparents celebrating their Golden Anniversary. I’m still angry that cancer stole that from my mom and dad. They endured so much over the years to finally make it to “the good life” as Dad called it.

  But, the truth is, it DOES get easier. The first year, I wanted to punch people in the face when they told me that. There was no way missing the most important person in my life would ever get easier. I didn’t want it to; because, that would mean I was forgetting him or that I cared less. Year two, the shock had worn off and he was started to seem further and further away. I struggled so hard to hang onto every detail, every little memory, that I wasn’t able to enjoy what was happening around me. But in year three, I found the peace I’d been missing since his passing. I KNOW without a doubt that my dad waits for us in Heaven. The time we’ve had so far is just the beginning as there’s an eternity of joy waiting when we all get there. I’ve known that, but had to heal enough that I could rest easy in that knowledge and stop hanging onto his memory so tightly. I’ll never forget him. I spent 31 years talking to him, and usually seeing him, on a daily basis. He’s in the mirror when I look into it and see the nose I used to hate but have come to love because it came from him. He’s in my oldest daughter’s corny jokes and in the youngest’s forehead.  He watches over us as we continue to live, to love, and enjoy the days that are given us. Because these days won’t last forever, no more wasting them on grief…


  This year, as we sang Silent Night holding our candles (just before my youngest broke out in screams of “I want my own (candle)!!!”, and tried to light the place on fire-  oh the irony of singing about a Silent Night with a two year old), and I saw my family as it is today- my mom, my husband, and our two beautiful children, one age 9 and one born 9 months and 1 week from the day my dad went to wait for us in heaven. The baby reminds me that the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away; that life is about changing and rolling with the punches.  She reminds me to enjoy life, and those in it, before mine is over and new life begins. But, most importantly, she reminds me that there is joy to be had even after such loss…it just sometimes takes 3 years to fully feel it again.