Yesterday, I had a realization. I searched through the archives of my blog just to be sure, and indeed, happened upon this:
February 20th marked the third anniversary of 'd-day' - the day we knew for sure our son had autism.
Two things struck me.
First, the day passed without me noticing. In the past, d-day has been spent in a complete funk, with crying and everything. Maybe it's a sign of MY progress. And that makes me happy. JT has done his part in the progress arena for sure. Apparently moms need a little more time to come around.
Second, that post is remarkably calm and collected. The reality of that day was not pretty. I was ripped to shreds. I was broken. I was an absolute mess. Back then I internalized it all - I had no one. I wanted no one to know that I was so devastated, so I put on my happy face and acted the part every day.
That day will never disappear from my memory. The autism specific test involved a remote controlled bunny, and JT FREAKED OUT when they moved it. He was hysterical. He wouldn't look where they pointed. He wouldn't look anywhere. He spent most of the time climbing up and down stairs they used for the gross motor eval (4 steps up, sort of looked like a podium). The plexiglass 3-sided box with one side open, a rubber duck underneath, watching JT struggle and become increasingly frustrated because he couldn't get it.
Hearing my child was likely never going to speak. Hearing he was likely intellectually impaired. What I didn't include in there was a 'severe' after the moderate descriptor. She said he was 'moderate to severe. Leaning to the more severe side.'
D-day is over, and it truly is getting easier every year.
Jess was right. If you're new to the game (or you just want to cry), Welcome to the Club.