The Day I Was Dreading

"It's OK. I know the idea is scary, but there's nothing wrong with us. We're just different is all. Just accept him for who he is and love him. He doesn't need a cure and you didn't do anything wrong. Everything will be OK <3"

The above is what someone said to me on Facebook in response to my admitting I was gutted that my son has been diagnosed with ASD. Yes, that was the outcome of Mondays assessment.

I've been all over the place since. Terrified of the future and what life holds for him, relieved at being told I'm not such a crap mum after all, that this isn't the norm. Hopeful that it will help me understand Taters better and therefore be the best mum I can be for him, that I can learn how to help him with his anxieties and tantrums. Then there was the proper self pity: why us? Am I cursed? I lost two babies and now my little boy has this? In my darkest moments I actually thought, "I can't kill myself because he needs me, but I'll be glad when this life is over because i can't take it." 

I also felt a feeling similar to grief, but when I tried to verbalise it I could see it made no sense... Was it that I felt I lost the son I thought I had, or the future I dreamed we'd have? But he's the same wonderful little boy this week as he was last week. And his future isnt written in stone because of this, being "normal" doesn't guarantee happiness.

You get the picture. I just didn't want this to be happening to us. 

Then there was that paragraph written on Facebook by a total stranger. And what an incredible person she is. I'd just written something so insulting to her, essentially:  "I've just been told my son is one of you and I'm devasted!" And she responded with intelligence, compassion and made me look at this from an entirely different angle. She put me to shame.

I always believed I could accept my son however he turned out. If he's gay I'm fine with that, I wouldn't even bat an eyelid. When he was a baby I whispered to him that I would love him no matter what, accept him no matter what. 

But what, not if he's autistic?

If I treat this like a terrible thing then the message I'm giving him is that who he is is WRONG. And that is the last thing I ever want any child of mine believing.

This is a part of him and I plan to accept that. This is who he is and he's still my perfect little boy. I always knew he was different, it's just that difference now has a name. I want to respect and help him, not change him.