The What Ifs and Might Have Beens of the Autistic Child
One of the most amazing parts of pregnancy is laying in bed at night, and thinking about what that sweet baby in your belly will grow up to be one day. When we found out we were having a girl, I immediately envisioned a younger version of myself. I imagined her doing gymnastics, playing softball, being in honors classes, going to nursing school, and becoming a nurse just like her mommy and daddy.
Her first birthday came and went and we had yet to hear any words come from her mouth. “She will talk when she is ready,” they said. Months passed and still no words. At 17 months old, Raelyn was diagnosed with autism, and we finally had some answers as to why she wasn’t speaking yet. Getting the diagnosis initially provided us with relief. We knew our worries were valid, and we now had a game plan to get her the help she needed.
That sense of relief slowly faded and was replaced by fear.
Fear of the unknown. I think that the unknown is the scariest part of parenthood. Every parent wonders and worries about the future of their children. But not like an autism parent, or any special needs parent for that matter. While our friends are worrying about whether or not they should start their 2 year old is preschool, we are already looking for elementary schools that provide autism services. I’m not saying that the worries of a parent of “typical” children are not valid. I’m just saying their children’s futures are more predictable.
One year ago, we didn’t think Raelyn could hear. I would rock her to sleep at night, and as I would sing to her, I wondered if she would ever know the sound of my voice. Six months ago, although I knew my baby could hear my voice, I wondered if I would ever hear HERS. Then I would ask myself, “What if she didn’t have autism? Would she be talking? Would she be calling me mama?”
Occasionally, I still get upset when I think about the future.
I don’t know if she will be able to mainstream in school or if she will be in the special education program. I lose sleep, wondering if her classm
ates will accept her stims and quirks or if they will make fun of her. The thought of her being out on her own one day is terrifying; more terrifying than that is the thought of her not being able to live on her own. There are just so many unknowns that come along with this mysterious diagnosis.
When we go to a birthday party and I watch her playing with a twig, rather than other kids, I wonder, “What if she wasn’t autistic? Would she still prefer the twig over friends?” What if we didn’t have to warn all of our friends that the sound of loud laughter is absolutely terrifying to her? At the mall, we have to avoid elevators at all costs, because of the pure fear she has for them.What if she didn’t require therapy four days a week? It sure would be nice to just let my two year old be a kid. Changing her diaper in public requires a lot of skill, patience, and creativity, because she is petrified of changing tables. Our house is constantly on lock down, because she is a little escape artist who has no sense of fear. So when these situations arise, I ask myself, “What if…?”
I would catch myself thinking about all the “what ifs” and “might have beens” more often than not.
And then one day without warning, I suddenly felt at peace. I don’t even know what triggered this new outlook. It just happened. I just realized that I have to stop worrying about the unknown, and do what I can NOW to give her the best shot at a future. So now that’s what I focus my energy on. I spend the majority of my days doing flashcards with her, singing songs, reading books, and doing puzzles. And you know what?? My hard work is paying off! At her 2 year check up, her pediatrician told me that she is doing things equivalent to that of a 4 year 
old!
I no longer think about the “what ifs.” Now I think about how grateful I am to have such a unique little girl. I feel incredibly lucky and blessed to raise a child who is such an inspiration to so many people. If she wasn’t autistic, I wouldn’t be half the mom I am. I wouldn’t be nearly as strong. I definitely wouldn’t be as patient. And I wouldn’t be as grateful for every milestone she meets.
It is so easy to get caught up in the “what ifs” in life. Try something different. Next time you find yourself asking, “What if she wasn’t autistic?” remind yourself WHY she IS.
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