I haven’t written a blog post in forever because I’ve been crazy busy and there hasn’t been anything juicy to complain about. Maybe I’ve turned a corner? Instead, I’m inspired to write about some very special boys named Henry.
When my sister in law, Karen, was pregnant with her first
baby, I was over the moon. I freaking love babies. We had a baby shower at my house, and in an
effort to one-up myself, I also offered to take care of the new baby when Karen
returned to work. I’d been fired from my corporate job, I was home drawing full time and my mother was with me almost
every day. I would be great at it! I am the Cesar Millan of soothing crabby
babies at parties. I happily ignored the
alarm on my mother’s face when I announced that we were now a pencil portrait/daycare
biz.
I am not a morning person, but I was excited to hold baby
Henry in my arms at 6:30 am when my brother in law, Alan, dropped him off for the
first time. At the end of the day, I made
dinner while snuggling my nephew at the same time like an old pro. When I handed him back, I put dinner on the
table and excused myself to go upstairs so I could dramatically throw myself on
my bed and sob uncontrollably for five solid minutes. Over the following weeks I heard the same
thing from all my friends… “What in the hell were you thinking?”
My sainted mother holding Henry while I am weeping somewhere. |
I had completely forgotten how hard new babies are. God bless you if you’ve got one, it’s a
nonstop job. I had a business to run, a
messy house to sort of clean, my own kids who needed me. I had bitten off way more than I could
chew. My mother was a godsend, helping
with Henry like he was her own. I made
it a month before Karen looked at me with concern and asked, “How are you?” I burst into tears when I admitted I couldn’t
handle it. Karen cried with me as we
agreed that babies were harder than either of us expected. I had wanted to show Karen and Alan how much I
loved them, to forge a close family bond that I crave so much. Instead I disrupted things and stressed them
out. They were hesitant at first about
my recommendation of our amazing sitter, Raquel, who cared for my boys when I
worked out of the home. I breathed a
huge sigh of relief when they fell in love with her, too.
Babies are hard work, but toddlers can be even more
demanding. And when Henry didn’t reach
expected milestones, his attentive, intelligent parents worried and researched
and faced the diagnosis they had feared.
Henry is autistic. Their
immediate and constant call to arms for every possible resource and piece of
information to help their son has been nothing short of stellar. No matter how often I tell them how impressed
I am, how lucky Henry is, there’s always doubt in their voices. Is it enough?
Will he go to public school? Will
he be okay?
There is no more room in here. |
When I was recently asked by a wonderful repeat client to
draw a portrait for her son’s high school graduation, she attached a story to the email she sent with
his photo, called “The Truth about Stephen Henry.” As I settled in to read about my new subject,
I discovered that Stephen had more in common with my nephew than a name.
Stephen’s mother Maureen chalked up some of his unusual baby
behavior to quirkiness. But other worries she
shared with their pediatrician, hoping for guidance. “Stephen doesn’t want me to rock him to sleep. He’d rather lie on the floor and rock himself. He cries uncontrollably when he hears sounds, or when he has
to wear certain clothing. And the babble
talk he had before age 2 has disappeared.”
The doctor listened to Stephen's
chest and checked
his ears and pronounced him healthy. He
told Maureen, “So,
he’s independent, so what? Nothing wrong
with that. He doesn’t like to wear clothes? I don’t like to wear a tie. Stop comparing him to other children, he’ll catch up.”
But Maureen knew something was wrong. At a preschool parent-teacher conference, she
sat in a preschool chair with her husband, rocked by a wave of denial and
relief when they heard the word “autism”. Relief that someone had taken Stephen’s
struggles seriously. Denial that it had
to be something else. Evaluation after
evaluation, they heard the same curse, the same condemnation.
So they went to work.
They made
three decisions early on; to learn as much as they could,
to never remain silent, and to lean on other parents of autistic children in
support groups. They read every book, searched every
internet site, attended
every conference. They told
everyone, “Stephen
Henry has autism. We’re not
sure what that means exactly, but we know it is serious and we are telling you
now because we know we will need your understanding and support.” Not a single person ever turned them down, or
turned away. Not family, friends, bosses,
or co-workers who helped pick up the slack so they could
take Stephen to his twice weekly therapy sessions.
They learned
that autism is a developmental
disability which inhibits social behavior and affects a child’s language and ability
to learn. There is no known cause and there is no
cure. The rise of autism in
California by
200% in the last five years has been described as “alarming”, “explosive” and
“epidemic”. It seems everyone is touched
by autism, by children we love and who are loved by people we know.
Maureen and her family stayed positive and refused to be
discouraged. Wonderful teachers fought for Stephen every step of the way, while
others shook their heads in doubt. As I
read Maureen’s story, I felt triumphant that Stephen is graduating from public
high school next month. I drew his graduation portrait
with pride, honored to help celebrate his success.
I shared Stephen Henry’s story with Karen and Alan, thinking
it was so inspirational that they’d be wowed by my awesomeness (which is my
admittedly ridiculous hope about every move I make).
Recently, I asked Alan at lunch if I could write about his Henry in my
blog about Stephen Henry. He said it was
fine and that people without an autistic child find stories like theirs
inspirational.
“For me,” Alan said
quietly, “it’s a glimpse of the very hard road that we have ahead of us.”
I want to believe it will get easier and easier for Karen
and Alan and Henry; he’s made such terrific progress. Mitchell is more of a handful
these days than his easy-going, sweet, big brother. They work so hard to do all the right things
and to give their boys everything they need to thrive. It’s the not knowing what’s coming next that
is the hardest. Life with young kids is an alternating climb through grueling
and wonderful terrain in the easiest circumstances. They post smiling pictures of their happy
boys and links to stories about autism that are both hopeful and
heart-wrenching, listing feelings of parents with special needs children. Fear, loneliness, inadequacy.
I am tempted to try and pretend that Max was enough of a
stinker as a little kid that I have some idea of what it might be like to face
a real parenting challenge. Those who
saw a three year old Max in action might even agree. But it’s almost embarrassing to have had it
so easy when others have such a different, frightening road. It's not fair.
He’s off to kindergarten this year, if Mitchell can bear to let
him go.
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Great blog, Wendy! You're a fabulous writer (and artist!)
ReplyDeleteLook who's talking Ms Author!! You are so much more professional than I am. I wish I had your dedication. Thank you so much for taking the time to comment, your check is in the mail.
DeleteHard to believe it's been 5 years since my pleasant duties of finding ways to get Henry to smile and giggle. The journey with an autistic child must be so difficult, but how great are the rewards! Beautiful addition to your blog, Wendy.
ReplyDeleteI couldn't have made it as long as we did without you Mommy. The baby whisperer skills come straight from you.
DeleteYour writing is perfectly timed Wendy, April is Autism Awareness month. Autism-related disorders are being diagnosed at alarming rates, I believe that 1 in 80 children is now placed on the autism spectrum. During my teaching career I worked with numerous autistic students. There is hope--they were often high achievers with an amazing intellect. Thanks for another well-written and sensitive story.
ReplyDeleteI had no idea that it was Autism Awareness month until Stephen Henry's mother told me that it was! It's such a strange and scary phenomenon that it's increasing so rapidly. I miss you so much! We're eating healthier lately and it makes me think of you and our favorite farm to table restaurant. Love you!
DeleteGreat Blog! All three of my sons have ADHD and the two younger ones are also on the Autism Spectrum (Asperger's). What is important is, as a parent you should never stop advocating for your children. You are their fighter, supporter and biggest cheerleader 24/7. Yes, it can be challenging, but seeing their achievements is awesome. If anyone is looking for information or support, please visit http://www.autismspeaks.org/ or Call the Autism Response team for help and resources: 888-AUTISM2.
ReplyDeleteThere are many more sites out there, however this one can be a starting point.
Wow, Becky, I had no idea! So many people have reached out to me to mention a loved one with autism. Thank you so much for the link. Wonderful to hear from you and much love to you and your family.
DeleteYour welcome, and much love to you and your family :-)
ReplyDelete