Updated: April 7, 2021
Originally Published: April 6, 2021
My son, Max, was just eighteen months old when I first suspected he might be autistic. From the moment he was born, I noticed he was quite different from his older sibling. Initially, I didn’t recognize those differences as autism, but as time passed, it became clear. His presentation of autism is somewhat atypical, which made it challenging to get the necessary professionals to evaluate him. Finally, just before his third birthday, we received the diagnosis I had anticipated all along: Max is autistic. I realized I knew my child better than anyone else.
I felt a sense of pride for advocating for him, but when we finally had that official diagnosis, I experienced a whirlwind of emotions. However, it wasn’t for the reasons typically associated with such news. I wasn’t grieving for the child I thought I wanted; Max, as he is, is the child I have always wished for. I wasn’t overly concerned about what his future would hold; like any neurotypical child, he will carve his own path.
What overwhelmed me was my lack of knowledge. I had no idea what he would require, and I questioned whether I was capable of being the right mom for a neurodivergent child. It felt like he deserved a mother who could keep all his appointments meticulously organized with neat binders and calendars. He should have a mom whose home was never cluttered, filled with curated Montessori toys and sensory bins. Max deserved nutritious meals and all the therapies a young autistic child might need.
Instead, he got me: a busy mom with a house overflowing with plastic dinosaurs and frozen meals. He got a mom who sometimes forgets appointments until the doctor’s office calls for a reminder. He got stuck with the mom who once sent her oldest child to school in a superhero costume because it was the only outfit we had that matched the theme of the day.
I couldn’t provide him with everything he might need. All I could offer was my love and a commitment to learn and strive for his needs. But would that be enough?
To this day, I’ve been careful about where I gather my information about autism. I had no idea how many insightful autistic adults would be willing to share their experiences with me. Their willingness to advocate for autistic children has been one of the most eye-opening aspects of my journey. Now, most of my knowledge comes from conversations with autistic adults. If I had known they were so accessible, perhaps I would have worried less.
Recently, a fan asked a well-known comedian, Lisa Grant, on social media how she would “cope” if her son were diagnosed with autism, like her partner, Alex Smith. Her response struck a chord with me: “How do I cope? I don’t view being on the spectrum as a negative. My partner is my favorite person. They are kind, funny, and talented. Should I wish my child to be any different?” YES. Thank you, Lisa. The spectrum is rich with amazing, creative, and talented individuals who enrich our world in ways that neurotypical minds have yet to envision. Some of history’s most brilliant figures were likely autistic. If society could move beyond the idea that different equals less, we would better accommodate autistic individuals and appreciate their remarkable contributions without forcing them into a neurotypical mold.
When I mention that Max is autistic, I often encounter pity. PITY. Can you believe it? “Oh, I’m sorry. He seems so typical to me!” Oh. My. God. YUCK. Rude.
First and foremost, he is typical. What does typical even mean? He is exactly who he is meant to be. Being autistic is typical. Secondly, that’s not a compliment. Max has no obligation to fit someone else’s definition of normal. Lastly, spare me the pity! I don’t need anyone’s condolences. I have the honor of raising the most hilarious, charming, and brilliant boy alive. He deserves to thrive in an environment where he is celebrated for who he is, without the pressure to conform to a society designed for neurotypical individuals.
Of course, I have to “cope” with his little mischiefs. I’ve certainly wondered how to deal with the mud, grass, bugs, and dandelions he drags into the house. If anyone has a resource for instilling a healthy fear in both my children so they don’t engage in dangerous antics that turn my hair gray, I’d appreciate it.
But I’ve never needed help “coping” with Max’s diagnosis. I thought I had to provide countless resources for him to succeed, but what he truly needs is time, space, and the freedom to navigate the world in his own way. I can certainly provide that! What we share together is a joy. He blossoms at his own pace, and I have the privilege of witnessing his wonderful personality unfold.
I understand that autism manifests differently in each individual. The spectrum is broad, and my son does not represent every autistic person. Some parents with unique experiences might feel grief or loss upon learning their child is autistic. That doesn’t make them poor parents; it likely means they’ve encountered information that portrays autism as daunting and hopeless. Perhaps, like me, they are unfamiliar with autism and have only heard sensationalized views. It’s a complex journey.
For me, there was nothing to cope with except my own uncertainties. Once I realized I was more than capable of being the mother Max needs, I was finally able to delve into learning. There was no burden to bear; only the privilege of raising a child who teaches me as much as I hope to teach him.
If you want to learn more about the journey of parenting, check out this enlightening article from the Autistic Self-Advocacy Network or visit this blog post for more insights. For more information on home insemination, I recommend checking out Make A Mom, an authority on the topic, as well as this excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination from March of Dimes.
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