Dr. Visit

Yes, finally. I did go to see my doctor about these nagging allergies. So now I'm loaded up with three more medications to take daily. They will set me up with an appointment with a real allergist, something I was going to do anyway.

Had a great discussion with a client this morning about our mixed motives in almost all that we do, even, or especially those things that we do for others "good". True humility is the rarest of characteristics. Even then there seems to be a very subtle, almost indiscernable "ego" that underlies the best of motives. This is not a right or wrong issue. It is, however, something that requires our awareness.

This awareness, or 'mindfulness' is a focus now in western religious culture. Of course, the eastern traditions (read; Buddhist among others) have known this for centuries and is a major focus of their meditative practices. To be aware of my true (or mixed) motives enables me to act and interact with others with a greater degree of integrity.

If you get a chance, read Beth's blog (link on the right panel). It is one of the most touching posts to date that she has written about Christian. We love you Beth (and Thad) and are standing with you in these difficult times. (I have decided to add that entry here since you would have to go to her archives to find it)
Ron & Jennifer

Thursday, April 08, 2004
Obviously, I could never forget the day Christian was born. I clearly remember the nurse placing him into my arms and how perfect it felt for him to be there... whoever coined the phrase "love at first sight" must have been talking about the day a mother and her child meet for the first time. I could not take my eyes off of him- he was the most beautiful, perfect being I had ever seen. Nothing, and I seriously mean NOTHING, could compare to him. For the first three days of his life, I referred to him as the "perfect child." I was hooked. Nothing in this world feels more perfect than the shape of his hand in mine. I love his fingers and his toes and his beautiful eyes. I love the way he talks and the way his smile lights up a room. To me, he is still as perfect as the day he was born.

As I look back now on those first beginnings I sometimes get sad when I think of all that Christian has been through. As he grew, I saw signs suggesting he was lagging behind others his age, but since I was a new mother, I just couldn't decide if I was over-reacting or if he just needed more time. I could never leave him alone without worrying and when Thad told me to quit my job, I was ecstatic. I missed so much that first year and so I had hopes to help him with his learning and be there as I'd never been before. I felt responsible for his delays so I was determined to "fix" him and make it all better.

As time wore on, he became more and more difficult to handle. I could never take him to a store without him running off and I would have to chase after him in a panic. To say it's a miracle he is still with us is a serious understatement. ANYONE who has been out in public with us prior to medication knows how hard it was to keep up with him. I can't count the number of times he darted out into the middle of the street. He still has no concept of danger. Looking back on it, I don't know how I got through the day. I just thought I was a terrible, horrible, worthless mother who had failed at the simple task of motherhood. Everyone else's children stayed with them and followed directions... what had I done wrong?

Today, as I sat through the TEACCH evaluation, I thought back to all of those moments before pre-K, before the DEC, before medication, before all of it and I wanted to cry for Christian and for myself. I felt so badly for him that I did not recognize the signs earlier, that I could not help him sooner. He wasn't capable of telling me all the things he did not understand or that he could not help. He was just being Christian. But at that moment I also felt redeemed as a mother. I may not be good at a lot of things, but I am the BEST at loving Christian, even though it's not that hard to do.

So I sat there and relayed these stories for Michelle, Christian's caseworker. I told her everything and how his life has played out thus far. It took me approximately ten minutes to give her an idea of how Christian is. At the end of those ten minutes, she looked at me and said...

"Well. I'm convinced.
Beth, do you know what autism is?"

Boy- do I ever.