Of all the things I remember about the day, I didn’t remember the date. It wasn’t until I was going through ALL THE PAPERWORK. You know that box where you keep the evaluations, the re-evaluations, the IEPs, the notes from teachers, the Due Process suit, the Due Process settlement. Well I was going through that box a few days ago, trying to put it into, dare I say some kind of order, when I came across the original diagnosis report and saw November 30, 1995.

I became a time traveler.

Suddenly I am in a different city, a different state, standing in a child psychologist’s office, I am 30 (WOW!) and I am holding my second child, my five-month-old baby girl (who got her driver’s license this summer) and I am hearing about my four-year-old son and a new word…

Asperger’s.

Instinctively, immediately, I looked down at the baby in my arms.

Instinctively, immediately the psychologist said, “She’s alright.”

Then relief overcame me.

We had a word.

And gone were the days when we lived in the dark.

That Place

Whispers from other mothers around the playgrounds
With their occasional “wild boy” sounds
Picking their children up and carrying them away
This happens day after day
I know he can be sweet and dear
But that is not the feedback I hear
People don’t take the time to get to know
They only judge and quickly go
So rather than go out and play
I found it was much easier to stay
Inside my house where it was safe
I was going to that place
That place where you go and hide
That place that is inside
Inside your home, inside your fears
Those fears that feed the tears

The tears you have cried because you feel so alone

So all alone in a crowded place
That place where you can’t look people in the face
Because there is this incredible vulnerability
That comes from questioning your ability
That you can’t understand the things that he does
And this is so confusing because
You have tried to love and understand
And be there with a guiding hand
You have done what all the parenting books say
But why in the world is he acting this way?
My son is the one pushing, he’s angry, he’ll shout
You don’t see this behavior from the other children out
You talk, you bargain, you threaten in vain
But it always seems to end up the same
You have turned yourself into a terrible sight
And then it turns into a terrible fight
You let yourself feel embarrassed and ashamed
Because it’s your child that seems so untamed

I was tired of going to that place

I realized this was a problem I must face
I forgot the strangers that were there and saw
The side of me that was exposed and raw
I focused on my child instead
We made a plan and forged ahead
It took nine months and three people later
To finally get to an evaluator
Who could help us sort everything out
And help us get rid of this nagging doubt
That it wasn’t us as I had heard so many say
It was that my son had a special delay
I now had found the knowledge and skill
And yes, a rather sizable bill
But that was O. K. It was what we had to do
We couldn’t go on living without a clue

The knowledge is power, it has given me strength

The strength I needed to be able to face
That I don’t want to visit that place
Where I give strangers power over me
To feel embarrassed and not to see
The incredible gifts my son has given me
My son is good, he is smart, he’s an interesting boy
He is my treasure, my love, my “bundle of joy”.

©1997