When our younger son was diagnosed with PDD (Pervasive Developmental Disorder) and SID/SPD (Sensory Integration Disorder/ Sensory Processing Disorder), we were in a way, prepared.  It was still shocking and it stung, no doubt.  However, it made sense.   He was ten days away from being two years old and still was not sleeping through the night.  He would go into a sort of trance, and start rocking and beating his face against a wall.

My husband and I were at our wits ends.  We didn’t know what to do.  We had just found out we were expecting our third baby, and I was getting bigger by the day! I couldn’t safely hold him when he’d have a meltdown.  I needed help, and we finally had three doctors that listened and helped us.

Then, four months later we took our oldest to be evaluated, and this time we weren’t prepared.  ”Your son has ADHD and Aspergers.”

Ok, honestly the ADHD didn’t surprise me.  I have ADHD, and he is my little mini me! The Aspergers though? I cried.  I couldn’t hold in my tears, and I cried in front of my son.

I was scared for him.  The media had opened warfare on children and adults with Aspergers.  Simply because it was speculated that Adam Lanza MIGHT have had it.  But, and this is a big BUT, my son is NOT Adam Lanza, and because of an early diagnosis, this meant early intervention. Early intervention is KEY!

One thing I am constantly reminded by my close friends and family is this; “Nothing is written in stone, and nobody knows what the future holds.  So why worry about it?”

How true is that?  So, all my ASD parents and family members out there, keep in mind not a single one of our children’s lives can be 100% planned out, so relax, and take one day at a time.

“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself.  Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” Matthew 6:34

To The Stranger

A poem I wrote through my younger son’s eyes.

To the stranger
I see you staring
I hear you laugh
I know I’m bothering you
I’m sorry.
All I want is milk.
But I can’t tell my daddy
And mommy doesn’t understand.
I get frustrated.
I know what I want.
But the words won’t come out.
And now I’m screaming,Hitting and biting,
My mommy,
My daddy,
Myself.
Please stop staring at me.
Please stop jeering.
And when my mommy and daddy finally figure out my request,
And I stop everything,
Please don’t tell them “Someone’s spoiled.”
To the stranger,
I’m not trying to be difficult.
I’m trying to communicate.

[Terry: Wow. These are the first two posts on Listening from the Heart. I can’t even imagine the incredible pressure you’re under.  The only thing I can offer is that–if it wasn’t for mild Asperger’s, I don’t think there would BE a computer industry. And, as I’ve said before, ADD is an essential requirement for those who work in television and movies.

Small comfort but I’m not joking, I hope your kids can grow up–as have many others–to deal with the puzzling world around them and find their own happiness.

Of course, the other question is whether YOU and your husband will be able to keep up running in place long enough to see it happen.  Hang in there. ]