I posted this page when I first started my blog (that seems like AGES ago, though it was exactly 18 months ago). I don't know how many of you have had the chance to see it, considering that it's buried in the archives.
Since I've been on the subject of autism awareness recently here in my blog, I wanted to share with you this page that I did back in February of 2005. It's amazing to think that this was what we were going through just 3 years ago.
Zach has come SO far in these 3 years and many of the barriers and obstacles he faced just 3 years ago are no longer there. Sure, there's still a vocabulary issue, along with speech delays that he's still catching up on, but he is talking a mile a minute and forever asking questions of anyone he meets. He's been out of diapers for 2 years now. This little man is a total social butterfly in some aspects that we never thought he would be, but there are still times that he draws into his own world and it's hard to pull him out. At one time, this little guy of mine seemed content to simply allow the people around him to pass by him, but he now draws everyone in. He wants to meet everyone, talk to everyone, drill everyone.
Much of this progress, I attribute to a big God, a lot of prayer and angels in the form of the interventionists we've had working with Zach since he was 18 months of age. I am so thankful that we caught this early and were able to start with his intervention at an early age. It really proves to me that early intervention can do SO much. But we need to take the steps to look past ourselves and those feelings of inadequacy and pride to look into the world of our little ones and get the help they need....without worrying about what others will think or how we think about ourselves. Guilt and regret can hold us back from the possibilities that abound around us. We only have to let go of those things that bind us and drag us down and open ourselves up to the wonderful things that CAN happen if we allow them to.
I've included the journaling from this page below the picture, as it's in smaller print and hard to read in the picture.
Journaling:
At first glance, one would see what looks like any ordinary 6 year
old little boy. At second glance, one would see that this is not any
ordinary 6 year old little boy. At every glance, though, I see my hero
in an extraordinary 6 year old little boy.
Most people would
find their hero in someone much older than themselves. They would look
up to someone that has weathered the storms of life and graced the face
of the earth far beyond their own years. They would look to someone who
would wear the badge of wisdom learned through experience.
I have learned that at times, one must look down in order to look up to someone.
I
look down into the most beautiful blue eyes one has ever seen, pools of
wonder and mystery, accentuated by the longest and most envied
eyelashes that one will ever lay eyes on. I look into the eyes of my
dream baby. My 6 year old wonder child. My Zachariah. My hero, the one
I admire and adore.
My little hero has had to endure more than
most 6 year olds ever will. Indeed, even more than most adults will
ever have to face. It is an everyday battle. Such is the life, the
fight, of Pervasive Developmental Disorder/Autism Spectrum Disorder.
I
didn't dream that I would have a child on the Austistic Spectrum. In
fact, many of the dreams that I had for my little boy were so different
than what has been handed to us over the last 6 years. Heroes fight for
a cause. My 6 year old is no exception. He fights every day.
At
13 months old, I watched as my baby became lost in a world not of his
own making. His mind became the bird that was caged. I watched as he
sank deeper and deeper into a world that none of us could locate on a
map or begin to understand.
And I have watched him fight to
find his way out of that world, that cage, whatever is it that tries to
hold him there, that tries to keep him from us.
Where some see
a child with the vocabulary of a 3.5 year old, I see a child that lost
all of his words at 13 months and then struggle to regain them, slowly
but surely, one at a time. Where some see a child with speech
difficulties, I see a child that has fought to learn how to speak all
over again. Where some see a child that seems socially inept, I see a
child that at one time cuddled and snuggled, shrink back and close
himself into his world. I have seen this child fight to make contact
with those in "our" world, but not a part of "his" world. To ask to
hold the hands of strangers. Where some see a child that seems
emotionally inept, I see a child from whom I waited almost 6 years to
get my first kiss from, but oh, how sweet his kisses are now when they
land on my cheek. Where some see a child still in diapers at the age of
6, I see a child that has struggled with and has started to master
something most children conquer before the age of 2. And I don't think
I've ever seen a child more excited about this feat. Where some see a
child that doesn't seem to understand those around him, I see a child
that fights everyday, through limited words and actions, to be
understood by those around him. Where some see a child that seems to be
oblivious to the things that go on right in front of him, I see a child
that sees so much of what goes on that often is overlooked. I see a
child that finds the beauty and wonder in the simple things. A child
that is in touch with the greater and more important things in life
that we often miss. I see a child that wants to be free from his cage.
I see a child that fights to be part of something that seems so far
from him.
I have seen this little soldier fight his way out of
the hole, towards the light and into a world that is foreign to him and
give his all and more to be a part of a world that he struggles to
understand, and a world that so often doesn't make the effort to
understand him.
The strength to fight, the will to endure the
never-ending struggle, the passion for freedom, the courage to
relentlessly pursue. These are the true marks of a hero.
This is my Zachariah. My hero.
At times, one must look down in order to look up to someone.
-Erika
