For the past year and a half, we have been patiently waiting to see if James would start talking. Sure he would say words sometimes. Some more times than others. We got him started in Speech Therapy over a year ago, but we stopped a few months later because I started getting scared. What was I scared of? Autism. It scared the pants off of me. And there was no way, NO WAY, my son could have it. Those kinds of things don't happen to me, you know? My kids were going to be perfect and never struggle with anything. Yeah right. But that's every mother's wish isn't it? No mom wants to be told that there is something wrong with her perfect little boy. And especially something that seemed so foreign and vague like Autism. It gave me major anxiety, panic attacks, and whatever else comes with anxiety and stress. I got a lot of hives. Ha ha.
I tried to have faith and hope, and sometimes I would do really well. Then James would do something, or not do something and it would send me in downward spiral. Finally back in September, I went to see a doctor myself about my anxiety. I found out that I have a mutation on my seratonin receptors so the medicine I had been taking (Zoloft) wasn't really doing anything for me- hence all the anxiety. In November/December I finally started a new medication and was able to get my anxiety under control. Sure I still get anxious and stressed out, but I felt much better. Much more stable to view James's situation. With the help of my parents, and my ever patient husband somethings became quite clear. James wasn't improving at the rate he should be, and he had some other red flags that made us think we needed to get him checked out for Autism.
After this realization, I was heartbroken. You may not be able to understand unless you have been through a similar situation. I had all this hope built up that James would be fine, and start talking, and not have a disability, etc. I had a vision for the way his life was going to be, and it was going to so good! I had to let go of that dream, and that child I saw. Now James is still going to have a great life, it's just going to be different, and harder than I thought. But it will still be amazing.
I was an emotional roller coaster for a few weeks. I felt peace, because I had finally accepted the possibility that James might have autism, or some other disability and I felt like I had finally accepted God's will for our family. Then at other times I would feel incredibly sad. I would see James's shoes lying on the floor and break out in tears. At times I felt like he was dying. Which is so strange, because he was still alive and very healthy! I would think about my sweet little baby James before he turned 17 months and cry. Because back then James had no signs of any problems. I would feel that life was unfair and that my child had been stolen and replaced by someone else. I felt like I had let James down, because maybe there was something that I did wrong. A week and a half ago we met with a cute family who has an adorable little boy with Autism. She told me it was okay to feel that way, and that I needed to mourn that life that he would never have. Meeting them was one of the best things we could have done. {So thank you Cassy, and thank you Lindsey if you read this!}
A few Sundays ago, no kids showed up for nursery (how strange is that?) so I was able to go to relief society. There was a great lesson on hope, that was perfect for me. It was based off of an article titled "Hope: The Misunderstood Sister" by Larry Hiller. He talks about seeing the attributes faith, hope and charity as sisters.
"Of the three, Faith may be the most well known and popular, the one whose companionship is sought most often. She’s active and energetic, definitely the can-do type. Faith can move mountains, if necessary.I picture Charity as being modest and refined, beautiful and gracious. In her presence you feel genuinely loved and accepted. She’s unfailingly kind and generous, patient, empathetic, aware of every need, and responsive without being asked. How could you not want the companionship of someone like Charity?
Then there’s Hope, who seems to have a problem with the way people perceive her. It may be her name and the way it’s commonly used: “I hope the car passes inspection.” Or, “I hope the weather will be nice for the wedding.” Used this way, the word hope is the verbal equivalent of keeping your fingers crossed. Consequently, many seem to think Hope is unsure, even fickle—she may or may not grace you with her companionship. But surely that’s not the kind of hope our Father in Heaven commands us to have. Nor would it be the kind of hope our Savior offers."
It spoke of how hope comes from experience of tribulations.
"When we endure tribulation with faith and patience, what we experience is the Savior’s awareness of us and His love for us. We experience them through the ministrations of the Holy Ghost, the Comforter. We receive this witness after the trial of our faith (see Ether 12:6).In my own life, when I patiently endure trials, the Savior, who took upon Himself all of our ills and sorrows (see Alma 7:11–12), ministers to me through the Spirit. I experience the Savior’s tender mercies. My trials may continue, but having taken upon me the yoke of Christ, I find Him sharing my yoke, making my burdens bearable, and giving me hope. I then have strength to endure. I have assurance that all will be made right, not just ineternity but also for eternity. Hope is anything but wishful. It is expectation based on experience.
I see Hope more clearly now. She is serene. Her eyes have the deep, knowing look of someone well acquainted with sorrow, the luminosity of recently being wet with tears. Hope has the confidence of one who clearly sees a bright future even when the next hours seem fog shrouded. Hope is steady and strong, a friend I am glad to have beside me during my own trials."
I am so incredibly blessed to have James in my life. I am learning so much from him, and man is he making me grow and do things I never ever thought I could do. Currently we are trying to get him assessed for the Special-ed preschool, and he has an appt. at Primary Children's Hospital to be tested for Autism in March. He is also getting his tonsil taken out on Friday! So please keep us in our prayers for that one! We do not know for sure if James has autism yet, but at least now we are finally facing the facts, our fears, and we are at peace with every possibility! I think writing all this out has been therapeutic for me, and who knows, maybe it will help someone else!
I know James will get better, and I can't wait to hear him say "mom, I love you". I will probably break down in tears and cry for a week straight. It's going to be a hard journey, but we can do hard things! And we have SO much to look forward to, and I'm grateful that I can see that now.
