As a parent, I never know if I’m doing a good job or not. And I won’t know until my kids grow up and leave the nest. For someone that suffers with anxiety and depression it can feel like so much pressure to try and do everything right. Did they eat enough vegetables? Am I teaching them the right things? Are they social? Did I let them have too much screen time today? Did I read enough books to them today? Was I too hard on them? As a result, I constantly fear that what I do and say to my kids may or may not be “the right thing.”
Parenting doesn’t come with a playbook, so there’s no instructions or how-to manuals. All you have is your instincts, how you were raised, your friends, or Google (my personal favorite!). I love that everyone can do it their own way, and yet, I constantly find myself in a fit of sleeplessness replaying the interaction I had with my kids that day. Too often I beat myself up about how I spoke to them or how I reacted to something they did. I sometimes question the method discipline that I used that day. Every decision I made I second guessed myself. I even wrote up a post “Did I make him this way?” as a way to make sense of what I was encountering with my oldest child, Gardner. It seemed like he was just tougher, and I didn’t know if it was me or something else.
Recently, we took Gardner, or “anxiety child” as I affectionately call him, in for an evaluation. Specifically, we were testing for autism. The results were not surprising. What I’ve known about him in my heart was in fact true. Gardner has autism. All the anxiety he has had, all the routines he has to follow, all the rigidity of his behaviors, and odd tone of voice are all signs of autism. Frankly, at this point, we would have been more shocked if we walked out of the office without an autism diagnosis.
This new diagnosis was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. That may sound strange, but it allowed me to breathe a sigh of relief. I now know that I didn’t do this to him, he was just born this way. There isn’t a lot known about what causes autism, so it’s possible that his environment could have played a role. But for the most part looking back at all the times I wondered if I was getting through to him, all the times I was confused about why he wanted to wear pants instead of shorts in 95 degree heat, or had to sing me four songs before we said goodbye each morning, I am giving myself a pass.
I am giving myself permission to stop beating myself up over all the things I did or didn’t do for him over the last five years. It is a weight that I have carried around for too long, and I’m glad to get rid of it.
Gardner is going to be who he is, no matter what. The main change from before diagnosis to after diagnosis is that we get to discover new tools and get the right therapy to work with him. In no way will this be a crutch for him to not do the things he’s expected to do in school or at home, but he will need to do things in a different way (which is exactly how he’s always done them). The difference is now we know.
I can now be the mom he needs because I know that none of this is my fault. I can move forward knowing that there will be amazing times ahead us and challenging ones. Going forward I’ll have the tools and support I need to find the best way to teach him and work with him as we continue on this journey together.
I’m beyond excited for the future for Gardner. He has an incredible memory, he loves art and music, and he knows that black pants match his black shirt. Autism will be part of his identity.
For all that has changed since his diagnosis, so much more remains the same. We know that saying, “super cat speed” from his favorite cartoon will get him to run fast, when “go Gardner, run fast” doesn’t seem to work. We know that a cell phone timer works wonders to get him out of the bathtub, when threatening does not. We know that telling him where’s he’s going today will ease his mind, because surprises will cause a meltdown. We know that he’s afraid of many things, like dogs, water, and the dark, but we’re still trying to figure out how to overcome those fears. At the end of the day, he’s still Gardner, he’s still our little boy, and even if he takes forever to go to sleep, we still love all the things about him!