What a Difference a Day Makes

August 25, 2004 was my 34th birthday. We didn't really celebrate; the birthdays since 2000 had been really stinky (between brain surgery for SuperHubby every year, and a big blow up with a family member the previous year). Our family was relatively normal (other than that brain surgery thing for SH, and the "minor" medical stuff Spanky and I had...

August 26, 2004, we suddenly had a child with autism. Life would never be quite the same.

We'd known for some time that FrogBoy was "quirky." We knew he had meltdowns that we couldn't explain, that he was a slow speaker and had a hard time communicating (hence he'd been in speech therapy since he was 18 months old). We knew he preferred to let Spanky speak for him rather than tell us what he really wanted and/or needed. We knew he could sit and stare at the TV for hours but couldn't stand to look at us when he DID choose to talk with us. And we knew he preferred to play alone rather than with other kids. Big deal.

We started doing research. We quickly realized that it appeared FrogBoy might have Asperger's Syndrome. We were pretty pleased with ourselves for finding this out before anyone in the medical profession did, because it was something neither of us had ever heard of before. Asperger's is on the autism spectrum, so we were a little upset, but hey, at least our little man didn't have autism. God forbid.

We decided that if FrogBoy was going to have Asperger's, at least we could use it to our benefit. Maybe he could get some extra help at school. After digging around and talking to some people, we found out that the public school system isn't required to offer assistance unless a child is diagnosed with certain problems. And Asperger's wasn't on the list. That was okay; we were pretty sure we could find SOMEONE who we could manipulate into giving us a diagnosis of autism.

On August 26, 2004, we went to the CARE Center in Charleston. This is a fantastic organization that does testing to see if kids are autistic and where they might land on the spectrum. Our appointment was for August 26. THE WHOLE DAY. It was very intense. We were allowed a lunch break, but other than that, they tested our 6-year-old from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. And these were some serious tests.

When we arrived at the CARE Center after a long day of testing, we were prepared to hear the word "Asperger's." We were shocked when they sat us down and delicately said "Autism." Not "possibly autism," not "Asperger's but we're going to call it autism so you can get extra help at school." Just AUTISM.

We were rock solid all the way home. I immediately called work and said we weren't coming in the next day. We needed time to process it all. A week later, SH asked for prayer. I totally lost it and ran crying from the room. This couldn't be happening.

It was. It did. It is.

So our journey began on August 26, 2004, and we learn more and more each day. Things I never thought I'd have to think about. Will he ever be able to live on his own? If something happens to both of us, who will take care of him and make sure he gets his bills paid and buys groceries? Will he go to college? Will he get married? Have kids? Things that seemed obvious on June 5, 1998, were suddenly all a big question mark.

There's a whole new language to learn, a whole new list of to-do's to do, a whole new bunch of worries to worry. And yet, through it all, I have to remember what my mother-in-law said to me right after Froggie was diagnosed: God chose me to be his mom. What an awesome privilege that is.