I love all the vulnerable, detailed snapshots, the real and relatable heartache you so generously share. Each one offers the turning towards hope. Such models are so beautiful and so needed.
I remember seeing Lindsay from Autism Motherhood post about how difficult it was to take her son to the doctor. This is yet another one of those things that people with "normal" kids don't think about or understand. I take for granted how easy it is to take my kids anywhere. I'm sorry you are not met with more compassion from people who should be trained to care for anyone who needs it.
I love that you were in Tartuffe! Also so curious to know who your favorite professor was. ;)
Thank you for this! It opens my eyes to read things like this. It gives me more understanding for the people I know with autistic children and gives me more wisdom in knowing what to say and what not to say.
And it's sad to hear that you were treated like that by a doctor. It feels wrong, you know? But praying that you can keep doing the good work you're doing! For parenting in general, I love the text "Do not grow weary in doing good." And it's amazing how God gives us the strength day by day (or sometimes minute by minute 😅) even when we feel so done!
Getting up and parenting my autistic kids day in and day out is the biggest expression of fortitude in my life and many others I'm sure. I run out of energy and grace often by the evening and then God gives me enough for another day. People say 'I don't know how you cope' but we have to don't we. I'm trying to do a few more things that give me life. Writing, prayer, reading and nature to name a few.
A+! To be honest, I was fearful you were about to end this piece by saying you had run out of steam and needed to take a break. I’m so glad it’s the opposite! Your fortitude is blessing us. (Also, I don’t mind at all your asking the reader a question… conversational pieces are my favorite pieces.)
I’m surprised every day that we are still planting a church. It’s the most exhausting thing I’ve ever done, and I loved your quote at the beginning: The world is run by worn-out people. I keep thinking that getting over the next hump will make things easier, but somehow things keep getting harder in different ways. Earlier this summer, I had the realization that the rest of our lives are going to be this kind of hard work. It’s overwhelming, and yet, like you, I’m surprised at how we are given just enough strength to do the next thing. This writing life is where I’m given a little bit of that strength, and it seems like maybe the same is true for you. I’m glad you’re here and that you keep going in spite of it all. ❤️
I totally didn't realize that my title ("We Won't Be Coming Back...Ever?") sounds like an announcement of a hiatus! I seriously did not intend that. I finished writing this post around midnight last night and my brain was out of ideas. In my mind, the ENT visit was the most interesting anecdote in the post, so I just went with a line from that story. Ha!
The journey to my older son's autism diagnosis began in an ENT's office. We were there because he wasn't swallowing food but holding it in his mouth, sometimes as long as twenty minutes. Once at a church picnic I called him out of the bouncy house to give him a brownie which he refused to take. It turned out he still had the final bite of lunch in his mouth-- I was so scared at how close he came to choking on it as he bounced up and down. But of course he wouldn't cooperate with the ENT. He hid his head in my shoulder and moaned and grunted. He goes nonverbal when strangers poke and prod him. The ENT said we were in the wrong office. Take him to behavioral health. This looks like anxiety. It felt like a slap in the face, but it got me to finally get him into therapy and then on meds. But neither the therapist or the psychiatrist saw autism. Only anxiety. I had to push to take him for a neuropsychological evaluation where even that doctor was on the fence but agreed reluctantly that he meets the criteria for ASD and if we really wanted that diagnosis on his chart.... she could do it.
I found my way here because I heard your poem on the Bammerhab episode about the tomb. I loved your poem and am so happy to find your page.
Oh my God, Tartuffe! I watched so much of that show being in the booth, thank you for that glimpse of such a happy time for me. You were a wonderful Dorine!
this is lovely. <3. your fortitude with your son encourages me, and this is a lovely post in general
I love all the vulnerable, detailed snapshots, the real and relatable heartache you so generously share. Each one offers the turning towards hope. Such models are so beautiful and so needed.
Thank you for this gorgeous essay, Heather <3
I remember seeing Lindsay from Autism Motherhood post about how difficult it was to take her son to the doctor. This is yet another one of those things that people with "normal" kids don't think about or understand. I take for granted how easy it is to take my kids anywhere. I'm sorry you are not met with more compassion from people who should be trained to care for anyone who needs it.
I love that you were in Tartuffe! Also so curious to know who your favorite professor was. ;)
Thank you for this! It opens my eyes to read things like this. It gives me more understanding for the people I know with autistic children and gives me more wisdom in knowing what to say and what not to say.
And it's sad to hear that you were treated like that by a doctor. It feels wrong, you know? But praying that you can keep doing the good work you're doing! For parenting in general, I love the text "Do not grow weary in doing good." And it's amazing how God gives us the strength day by day (or sometimes minute by minute 😅) even when we feel so done!
Getting up and parenting my autistic kids day in and day out is the biggest expression of fortitude in my life and many others I'm sure. I run out of energy and grace often by the evening and then God gives me enough for another day. People say 'I don't know how you cope' but we have to don't we. I'm trying to do a few more things that give me life. Writing, prayer, reading and nature to name a few.
A+! To be honest, I was fearful you were about to end this piece by saying you had run out of steam and needed to take a break. I’m so glad it’s the opposite! Your fortitude is blessing us. (Also, I don’t mind at all your asking the reader a question… conversational pieces are my favorite pieces.)
I’m surprised every day that we are still planting a church. It’s the most exhausting thing I’ve ever done, and I loved your quote at the beginning: The world is run by worn-out people. I keep thinking that getting over the next hump will make things easier, but somehow things keep getting harder in different ways. Earlier this summer, I had the realization that the rest of our lives are going to be this kind of hard work. It’s overwhelming, and yet, like you, I’m surprised at how we are given just enough strength to do the next thing. This writing life is where I’m given a little bit of that strength, and it seems like maybe the same is true for you. I’m glad you’re here and that you keep going in spite of it all. ❤️
I totally didn't realize that my title ("We Won't Be Coming Back...Ever?") sounds like an announcement of a hiatus! I seriously did not intend that. I finished writing this post around midnight last night and my brain was out of ideas. In my mind, the ENT visit was the most interesting anecdote in the post, so I just went with a line from that story. Ha!
The journey to my older son's autism diagnosis began in an ENT's office. We were there because he wasn't swallowing food but holding it in his mouth, sometimes as long as twenty minutes. Once at a church picnic I called him out of the bouncy house to give him a brownie which he refused to take. It turned out he still had the final bite of lunch in his mouth-- I was so scared at how close he came to choking on it as he bounced up and down. But of course he wouldn't cooperate with the ENT. He hid his head in my shoulder and moaned and grunted. He goes nonverbal when strangers poke and prod him. The ENT said we were in the wrong office. Take him to behavioral health. This looks like anxiety. It felt like a slap in the face, but it got me to finally get him into therapy and then on meds. But neither the therapist or the psychiatrist saw autism. Only anxiety. I had to push to take him for a neuropsychological evaluation where even that doctor was on the fence but agreed reluctantly that he meets the criteria for ASD and if we really wanted that diagnosis on his chart.... she could do it.
I found my way here because I heard your poem on the Bammerhab episode about the tomb. I loved your poem and am so happy to find your page.
Thank you for the kind words about my poem, Melanie! I’m so glad you found my little corner of Substack. 📬
I'm thankful we can live a "surrendered" life unto Him and, therefore, are free from "performance" for men.
Really good
Thank you so much!
Oh my God, Tartuffe! I watched so much of that show being in the booth, thank you for that glimpse of such a happy time for me. You were a wonderful Dorine!
Thanks so much, Josh! Great hearing from you; hope you and the family are doing well!
Thank you for for sharing Heather, and for giving a glimpse into the mundanity and complexity and tenacity of a life of love.
Thank you so much for your kind encouragement, Rebecca!