Today We Went to a Birthday Party…And I Didn’t Cry on the Way Home

Today We Went to a Birthday Party…And I Didn’t Cry on the Way Home

If you are the parent of “neurotypical” kids, you’re probably wondering why on earth I would cry after a birthday party. If you’re a special needs parent, you knew exactly what I meant after reading the title. All special needs parents understand the heartache we feel for our kids, each and every time we are reminded of the truth: Our kids are not typical. They meet milestones at their own pace, usually several months after other kids. They struggle to play with other kids, and that is absolutely devastating for a parent to witness.

Every time I take Raelyn to a birthday party or a playdate, I am reminded of how behind she is compared to her peers. I am able to stay strong and maintain a positive attitude 98% of the time. That other 2% is when I cry hot tears after being forced to face the reality of my daughter’s diagnosis.

But today is the first time I didn’t cry afterwards.

So what has changed? Have I just gotten used to her diagnosis and become accustomed to the fact that she will just be developmentally behind her peers? No. I don’t think that any parent ever fully accepts that. But I can now say that I am able to acknowledge that she is different, because I am starting to understand how her brain functions. Knowing WHY she does certain things brings me a lot of comfort. It reminds me that it’s okay if she has the language skills of an 11 month old, because her gross motor skills are more advanced than most three year olds. This is because her brain has a different operating system than the “typical” person’s brain.

I played witness to something remarkable at that birthday party. Raelyn wanted to play with the other kids, without me right by her side. This allowed me to sit back and simply observe my little girl interact with the world around her. What I saw Raelyn do filled me with such pride. I learned that she is an incredibly caring little girl. Most people assume that autistic people cannot feel empathy, but this simply isn’t true. They just show it in a different way; a way that most people don’t know how to interpret.

When all the kids were playing, a little girl fell down, started crying, and ran over to her mom. Raelyn was busy playing, but immediately stopped what she was doing to check on the crying girl. She went over to this mom and her daughter, and looked at the little girl with genuine concern in her eyes.

She KNEW that this girl was upset, and it really bothered her.

Because Raelyn is 2 years old and only has minimal communication skills, I have learned how to know exactly what she is thinking by looking at her face. I could tell that she wanted to do something to help this little girl, but she had no idea how. So she just stood there, never looking away from that girl, until she stopped crying. Every other kid at the party continued to play without taking notice to the crying girl. But not my girl. My girl desperately wanted to make her feel better.

This didn’t happen once. Not twice. It happened THREE times, with three different kids. And Raelyn had the same reaction each and every time. So yeah, my daughter’s language skills may be significantly delayed. She may not play with toys appropriately or understand why her friends would have a pretend tea party. But none of that matters. Because my beautifully unique daughter has a kind and loving soul.

Before I even had a child, I always said that the most important part of parenting is to raise a child who grows up to be a genuinely GOOD PERSON. Sure, a child who starts talking at 9 months is a result of good parenting. But the fact that my child isn’t talking at 2 years old is not a result of BAD parenting. Skills are something that are taught, but autistic kids don’t learn the same way as other kids. As a result, autism parents are often left feeling as if they haven’t done a good job, because their kids have yet to meet milestones that “should have” been met a year ago.

Being a caring person is not something that can be taught in the same manner that language skills are taught.

She can’t call me “momma” or tell me that she loves me. But I know how big her heart is. When she gently tugs at my hair until my forehead meets with hers, and she smiles ear to ear and giggles…she’s telling me she loves me. And today when she showed true concern for those crying kids, I knew that she feels love for other people as well. I have said before that Raelyn is the happiest child I have ever been around. Now I know she is also one of the most caring. I like to think that Patrick and I have something to do with that. I am extremely proud of the girl my daughter is growing to be, and I vow to never cry about her shortcomings ever again…Because her strengths are invaluable qualities that only a select few people possess.

To follow our story on Facebook, like our page: Autism Through Raelyn’s Eyes

Click Here to read my post, “To The Parents of My Autistic Daughter’s Friends.”