To the me of tomorrow - Mango's 1st

Dear Mama Bear,

Your probably reading this because you know you needed to hear it today. Today, because today is Mango's first birthday. Somehow its a bitter sweet feeling. I understand the pain and joy you ar feeling right now. Well, because I'm you, writing this for today. To let you know that I understand how hard it is to be happy and yet be so sad at the same time. Mango is finally 1! We waited for a long time for this day to come and at the same time we wished this day would never come because of the reality check it would bring to us. I'm here to tell you that it's ok. I'm here to tell you the things we want to hear from our loved ones but they don't really understand our situation enough to tell us these things. 

I can't promise you that it won't hurt. I can't promise you won't cry and I can't promise that the future holds many different days than today. All I can tell you that what ever your feeling is ok. I understand that when you look at Mango would will see a child that has fought for a whole year. He had to fight, a fight that no person should ever have to fight and he had to fight it on his own. I understand that when you look at him to see a 2 to 3 month old child rather than a one year old who should be sitting atleast by now. I understand that it will hurt you to celebrate his one year birthday but wonder why your even celebrating because he kind of isn't really one at all. I can tell you why. We are celebrating not his birthday but his life of 1 year. We are celebrating that he is with us today and remember that not many bubs make it through pregnancy to be with family. We are celebrating his achievements in life and all the things he has accomplished including all the things our doctors told us he would never achieve. We are celebrating that fact that he knows Mama and Daddy. We are celebrating all the support we have had during this full year of therapy appointments, genetics and paediatrician appointments. We are celebrating your sons heart, the fact that it's beating strong refusing to stop. Most of all we are celebrating the fact that you are a family. A family that a bond has grown stronger than most families out there. Today we remember that we are blessed to have such a wonderful child who have changed us as people for the better. A child who has changed the way we see things, say things and do things. We are better people and without him, we would never know what it's like to be the better person we are today. 

You are a mother. A compassionate, caring and loving mother. You have given everything to this day and for that you should be proud. I know its hard and I'm not telling you that you shouldn't be sad. Your allowed to be sad. Noone should tell you that you shouldn't be sad. If you want to cry and laugh at the same time, then go for it. This is not only Mango's day too, this day if celebrating you too. The way he looks at your for reassurance before he does something because he knows you would never let anything happen to him. You are his whole world. You don't remember all the time but I'm here to remind you. 

From Mama Bear

Year 10 class

I was in my year 10 art class sitting down when there was a knock on our classroom door. A lady popped her head in, smiled at my art teacher and walked in with a young special needs girl holding her hand. All my years of being alive and I had JUST realised that special needs children can go to 'normal' school and that they have a lady following them around class to help them with work. I still don't know these people who help are called. Anyone?

Except all I remember that it was at that particular moment that I realised that I wanted a future with special needs. Whether it be working with the elderly, or playing with children or something along the lines of that. I knew that I wanted my future to be a part of something unique and special. I was always one of those kids that would be walking in a shopping centre and see a child in a wheelchair and STARE like I had never seen someone in a wheelchair before. But heres the thing, I know that my staring probably looked so rude as if I wasn't brought up with manners and I understand that if I was in that parents position I would want to slap me on the face. In my head though, it was a whole different story. In my head (I remember this very clearly so some reason I don't know why) I was thinking that if I stared at this kid with a worried face as my expression, I would kind of show that person that I was caring and that the parents would understand I actually wanted to be friends with this kid and help this kid and not the other way around. I don't know why that made sense to me at the time. Sounds twisted doesn't it? I know. I have no explanation for the way my brain works. It scares me sometimes.

However, I never pursued that goal and only god knew why. Now years after, I understand that my life was written out for me and even though at the time all I could see was my goal, The Lord had a much higher and more rewarding goal for me in my future. It was probably from when I was a child and I used to stare at special needs kids that it was just the beginning of my journey to become a the mother I am today of a child with a disability. I sit back and I realised yet again how great Allah is and how he prepared me for such a rewarding role in life.  

Dr A - prediction for the future

Aaaahhhh... Its been a while. Me and you. Together. You know... sitting here infront of our screens sharing this moment...

Eeeeerrrrmmmmm....

Well, we saw Dr A this afternoon (Dr A = Paediatrician). Booking an appointment to see her is like trying to book for the president. We waited three months. Not because we wanted to but because she was booked out. Why? Because she is AWESOME! Like my kid. His awesome. You know that.

We sat in that room for an hour talking about Mango. While he sat there trying to join in the conversation with us.

Mango: Excuse me. I know your speaking about me. Don't face my pram to the wall! I can't see!
Well, I assume that was what he was trying to tell us with all his babbling and screeches.

What I thought had been very mild spasms Mango has been having, turned out that it might actually be seizures. Damn. All I know about seizures are that they could fry your brain. Sorry, no nicer way to put it. Fry. Fry like frying something on a fry pan till its burnt. Damn again. Which if we can really confirm they are ACTUAL seizures then that would explain many things such as his development. Oops. Thats one things BUT its a big thing. ONE. BIG. thing. Booked for an EEG. You know the most stupid thing about an EEG? An EEG is supposed to pick up seizures and high brain activity. The only way they can detect that is if this poor person has a seizure during the scan. WTH? Seriously? What are the chances. Most the families I have met who have children with epilepsy tell me that this scan is pretty much useless. Can I say damn again? Damn.  Oh boy... This isn't even the beginning.

Dr A tried to do a small assessment on him based on her own knowledge and her experience with other children she has worked with during her 15 years as a paediatric doctor.
Her overall conclusion was that Mango is a happy and healthy boy. He will learn to communicate in a way that he finds best for him, in his own way. He will probably never have the chance to go to a 'normal' school or be 'normal'. He probably may never talk or walk but we can only hope that he will some day. He will always remain the little boy he is today. Never being able to be independent in any kind of way. He has medical issues and we can definitely try to get them all under control. *sighs* - all I remember was that voice inside of me screaming louder than Dr A was talking. I wasn't shocked. I was hurt. It just doesn't change. The hurt doesn't change. it always hurts the same and as bad as it did the first time. I slowly started to tear up, so I turned my face away from Dr A to take a look at Mango who was staring into space. I just wanted her to stop. Stop talking. I know reality and I accept it. I just don't want to hear it.. but she kept going. She said - I do believe that your journey will be a very difficult one and there will be many obstacles along the way. I know how hard it is to remember and know but as much as it will be a very hard journey, it will also be a very rewarding one too. As his doctor too, to him accomplish new things will be rewarding for me because we will be seeing each other for a very long time (aka for the rest of his life). - Don't you get it. I don't want to see you for the rest of Mango's life. I never want to see you again! -  We will continue with the therapies and start with speech, - as if we dont have enough of therapies to even make time for more. - We will get to know each other other better and work through things as the years pass.  -Far out. I think this is the start of a bitter sweet relationship. - 

We walked out of room in silence. Walking to the car was silence. It felt like the silence was making us all deaf and this one time, we would let the silence make us deaf so we couldn't hear our own thoughts...

Dear Shopper

Someone shared this with me... It's so sad but so true. Once upon a time I was the shopped (sad to say) but now I'm in different shoes too. 

It is written by a mother who has an autistic son. April is the month of Autism Awareness. Please support them by clicking on the link below. Bringing 'typical' children together with children who have special needs teaches our children to be aware. Involve them in helping. Teach them. Don't be afraid of the unknown. 

http://www.autismawareness.com.au/get_involved

It is these lessons that will define who our children will be in life. To have an open mind and most probably have more knowledge than many other people will. It's lessons of kindness, love, affection and so much more by getting them involved in something so simple. We just have to reach out towards it.

Dear Shopper,
Yes, I know. I’m well aware that my child is screaming. Not just a regular scream, but an ear-piercing, sanity-shattering screech. Even if I wasn’t seeing and hearing it, I would know by the expression on your face.
Clearly, you have raised your children better than me.
That is what you were wanting to say, right? There certainly can’t be any other purpose to you stopping in your tracks to stare or elbow your companion or better yet — give knowing looks to other shoppers passing by.
I have no doubt that you have wonderful, well-behaved children. Grown, tax-paying, law-abiding citizens who would never have dreamed of screaming like this in public when they were children. Judging by your expression and utter exasperation, you’ve never hesitated to let them know who was boss.
And I know that you did your best with your children, that you loved them, and want all children to have a solid upbringing in which to start their lives. You are, in all probability, a good person. You probably don’t mean any harm.
This is what complicates what I want to say to you. Because, despite my anger towards you, I happen to have been raised well too. I don’t want to be ugly, even though right now I feel like it.
Because I know some of that anger is misdirected. It is misdirected because I, too, have stood in judgment of someone like me. I, along with almost everyone, have stood in public and watched a scene like this one play out and thought to myself, “Clearly she has no control over her children. When I have children, mine will never behave like that.” I, like most people, wasn’t quite as obvious about it as you. I didn’t stare or make comments that could be heard. But I was every bit as decided. So, some of my anger is really directed toward Human Nature, who refuses to be put in its place.
The nice thing about human nature, however, is that it can be overridden. And all it takes is but a single experience, a single human interaction, to the contrary of your own strongly held convictions. Then presto whammo — you are a new and hopefully improved person.
Let me introduce you to my child. Like you, I marveled at the miracle of life upon becoming his mother. Like you, I rocked, burped, and inhaled his sweet baby scent and thanked God over and over for the gift of him. Like you, I had certain dreams for my child. There your path and my path diverged somewhat.
My precious child is autistic. Yes, I’ve seen Rain Man, and, no, my son is not likely going to be a great card counter. The truth about autism is that it encompasses a wide spectrum of abilities. And, like you and me, every autistic child who has it is different from the next. Yet they do often share some similar traits – sensory overload and meltdowns are one of them.
Every person on the planet has what I think of as an internal alarm system. Most of us have ours in good working order. But some people with autism have what I like to call a hair-trigger alarm system. Theirs can go off with what seems to average folks like little to no provocation. There IS always provocation. Non-autistic people simply aren’t as sensitive to seeing and hearing the triggers, and that’s when the alarm goes off. And when it does, it’s loud. Everyone in the vicinity wants nothing more than to have it turned off, including the people who love them. When you see me “placating” my child and “giving in” to his tantrum, I’m really just desperately looking around for the alarm key or trying to remember the right code to turn off that blaring alarm. It isn’t his fault. And, no matter how upsetting it is for you, let me assure you it is that much more upsetting for him.
I’m sorry that you haven’t had quite as pleasant of a shopping trip as you had anticipated. It hasn’t been so pleasant for me either. Problem is — I have to feed my family, pick up prescriptions, etc. just like you do. And, unfortunately, no one arrived at my house today to watch my child so that his autistic behavior wouldn’t upset anyone in public. I have to leave the house and so does my child. Because I have to teach him about the world. I have to let him practice controlling his alarm system. So that he, too, can possibly be a productive citizen making come true all those dreams I had for him when he was so small.
With so many advances in early detection and therapy, many of us will be able to see most of those dreams come true for our unique children. And for some of us, our dreams will have to change for our children. We may need to re-define happiness and success. For life is like that. We constantly have to reevaluate our expectations of ourselves, others –and, sometimes, even the grocery store.
I’m hoping that your single human interaction with me has given you an opportunity to be a better person. For, with 1 in 91 children being diagnosed with autism now, you are going to have a lot more opportunities to make a positive impact in the life of someone like me. All it would take would be a smile, a pat on the back, or a “Bless your heart, honey, hang in there” to refill a stressed out parent’s reserve of patience and calm. You could be the bright spot in our day. And, then, if you want, you are welcome to ask all the questions you want. Your curiosity doesn’t offend me in the least. Most of us aren’t the least bit upset to talk about our kids – any more than you are. If anything, it is an opportunity to educate and dispel myths.
And, maybe, just maybe, you will be standing there when the alarm gets turned off. Maybe you will get to see what every mother wants the world to see – the wonderful personality of her child, in our case hidden behind a mask of fear, anger and frustration.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll get to see the one hidden behind yours. ♥

By Flappiness Is