I wasn't prepared to be a mom. Children aren't born with guide books to prepare you for what they will be like down the road and how to navigate it. Parenting is all trial and error. You try something and cross your fingers, hope to God it works. If it doesn't you try something else, but if it does you know that's something you stick to. Similar to Logan's love of PBJs. We always offer him what we're having for dinner, but if he decides that he's not having it we know a PBJ is the way to go.
I also wasn't prepared to be a special needs mom. I admired special needs mothers for their patience. I said that wouldn't be me. I just couldn't see myself being able to make it through. I still admire them because right now they seem so much stronger than me. Right now I wish the Earth would open up and swallow me. I wish my alarm clock would ring and wake me up from all this.
I've always known Logan was very special. Our bond is stronger than I can possibly put into words. When he was born all the negative feelings I had about becoming a mom of two simply evaporated, and I was overwhelmed with more love than my heart could possibly hold. I still think my heart will explode every single day. I was so afraid of loving one son more than the other. So silly. I love them the same in a different kind of way.
Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change a thing about either of my boys. They are perfect just the way they are. If anything changed it would mean they weren't my boys. I'll keep them just as they are.
It's all a blur. I don't remember when I realized that something was really up with Logan. He was different. Around 9-10 months old I remember telling his pediatrician that he didn't babble. He was quiet most of the time unless he needed something. She responded by reassuring me that my son was growing beautifully. She went on to tell me I shouldn't compare him to his brother because all children develop differently. Something I still hear daily.
When Logan turned 12 months I mentioned it to her again. I told her he was mostly quiet. There was no mama, dada, baba or anything from him just inconsistent sounds. She once again dismissed my concern. By 15 months of age Logan only said what sounded like "thank you". We had just recently moved down to Florida and had ourselves a new pediatrician. She told me I shouldn't worry until past 18 months.
Around the time Logan was 18/19 months old I came across a video of Mason at the same age. I watched it in tears. In it we were having short sentence conversations with him. Around the same time, Logan had stopped saying thank you and picked up this high pitched scream and would cry at random. He had also started staring off at nothing, watching lights especially at the grocery stores or places like Walmart, and only lasting at most 10 minutes in a public place before he'd have a meltdown. I couldn't take him anywhere without back up because when it got to be too much he'd have to be removed from the situation. Logan wasn't socializing either. On two different occasions we took him to the mall playground and another to the park. Both times he isolated himself not even realizing that there were other kids around. He just cornered himself. Logan also developed separation anxiety from me. At all times he preferred me and if I was out of sight or left and he stayed behind...it was meltdown city.
By the time Logan turned 21 months old his hearing had been assessed and he had ear tubes inserted. Everyone we saw kept telling me to focus on his hearing before I went looking for more. However, all the behaviors had gotten more constant along with the appearance of more. I was on a mission for answers. If his pediatrician wasn't going to cooperate, then I would arm myself with as much information as I could. That's when it all began. Although he had been evaluated by a speech pathologist and diagnosed with a speech/communication impairment...I knew there was more. My gut kept telling me that hearing and speech weren't the root of it all.
Every mother worries about something being wrong with their child. When we get pregnant we picture this perfect little baby. You dream of how they will be and all the things you will do, and what they will accomplish. I never thought I would be the special needs mom I have always admired. Between the time Logan saw the speech pathologist and today I have probably read more than 100 articles and watched over 20+ YouTube videos on Autism in toddlers. My son acted in one way or another just like every toddler in those videos.
The tears flowed and flowed. Every single night I have gone to bed crying about how I can possibly make this all better for him and us. I know he gets frustrated and we get frustrated as well. I just want to it all to be ok. Though my heart had been broken into millions of pieces I still kept researching. The more I looked the more my instincts were confirmed. My instincts of a mother told me my son was on the spectrum, but my head kept telling me I was crazy. I was making all this up because I was paranoid. My son was fine and all this was my fault.
I'm still struggling. I still look at him and wonder where I went wrong. I breastfed him over 6 months of age. We coslept/bedshared. We don't CIO. I waited until 7 months nearly 8 to introduce solids. I fed him organic baby food. He's still rear-facing. What did I do wrong? Not that moms that don't follow what I have done are in the wrong. Not at all. That is just what worked for us, but I must have f***** up somewhere.
Except it's not my fault. It's no one's fault. I'm learning to accept that. This is who Logan is. A part of him, and we will embrace it. We will teach him and everyone we come across that this only means he is "different and not less". On this journey we will all learn compassion and patience. Being different is wonderful. What is normal anyway?
Logan has been officially diagnosed with ASD. He also has the following: emotional lability (rapid mood changes), developmental delays in every area of development (he's between 10-12 months behind), a speech/language disorder, and some sensory issues. I feel a sense of relief, but I am also overwhelmed. I am overwhelmed with information, and over what comes next. I am scared for my son. I am scared of the labels society will place on him. I am scared of the challenges he will face. I wish I could take his place, so he wouldn't have to witness how cruel this world is.
My heart breaks for Mason as well. He doesn't understand what is happening. There are no right words to say to him to explain all of this. He cries when he can't join his brother for a session. I cry because this isn't fair to him. They have been inseparable since day one. To tell him he can't play with your brother right now hurts his feelings. I'm their mother, am I not supposed to know how to handle all of this? Right now I feel at a loss. My babies in their own way are both having a hard time, and I can't make it all go away. I feel like I am failing them.
This is all so new to me. Just as new as motherhood was just 3 and a half years ago. I appreciate all of the encouragement and support we've received. Don't ask me questions because it is still all too new. I don't want to talk about it. I probably never will want to talk about it. Who knows. I just know it's going to take time. Time will help mend my heart. Time will help us adjust to our new dynamics. Time will teach us how to cope with things. Time will help us to understand him, and communicate with him. Time will help Mason understand the concept of this all. Time. It's going to take time.
It doesn't matter how long it takes. Through it all we'll be holding each other's hands. We're in this together! We laugh and cry together. We got this! This may change some of our dynamics, but it does not change the love. 💙
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