Sunday, November 08, 2009

Wond'ring Aloud

I have started this post many times...created long diatribes of discussion within my own you love your child as he is, or not? He can be a pain in the rear, but so can I! I pick on him mercilessly and he does the same to me, because if I can make him laugh it is like music to my soul. Magic, pure magic.

You understand, I don't want to change that part of him.  At all. If autism is what makes him so funny, I'd rather he kept it.  All of our kids, whether they speak or not, have a personality that transends all that. It transends even the disability label...we love their very essence, as mothers. Their quirkiness, their gifts, their strong minds, in spite of what they have to deal with in this life.
But sometimes you notice... things, for lack of a better word.  It 's just that nit-picking part of motherhood, that says, "Is this out of order?  Should I be concerned?", the same thing that drives you to stick a cotton swab in their ears.  God forbid they have waxy ears.. You don't forget these things...Surely, "this" is a piece of the puzzle, which is more indicative of how little science really knows about autism than a dilemma of the autistic self.  Talk about projection:  We don't know so it must be their fault.  Like children who can't be taught by typical means...there's something wrong with them,  not the system.
When Ben was just days old, he missed his mother's voice.  No one will change my mind about that.  He was looking for his birth mothers voice, and I didn't have it!  I always thought I was crazy to feel that way until I read just today that a baby responds to his mother's voice in the womb, and will listen for her voice above all others when born. (Ben was adopted.)

There are other things I noticed. This was long before the current meme of  autism as  a disaster came up.  We parents were actually looking for similarities in our children to begin to answer the question:  What is autism?

I promised Dr. Chew I would write about these moments that gave me pause, when I seemed to have an awareness of something, vague as though it may have been.

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